The Husky Way

You may think I am all wolf, but sadly my heredity is mixed heritage. I’m not ashamed of my domestic dog blood, but I am not bound to its “fully subservient traditions”. You could say I prefer the best of both worlds, which is both comfortable city dog lifestyle and wild wolf independence. I will sit. I may even occasionally fetch, but if you call for me, my answer now and always is “if I come over there, what’s in it for me?”

Usually you call and expect me to do something I don’t like; such as get a bath, trim my nails, or ‘fess up’ to some chewing incident. Can’t you take my word for it? Honest, the cat did it. No? Ok it was that darn opossum that I see from the back porch, but you won’t let me punish. “Bad opossum; chewing up masters furniture like that.”

I keep telling the boss, just let me at the giant ratso fink.

Of course if you are eating smoked pork ribs I suddenly feel a spirit of cooperation flood over me. Now is the time to call me. This time, you’ll get your wish. Ask me to do tricks! Go ahead, I’ll be as trained as Arfo, the juggling mathematical wonder dog.

Ask me trivia questions. What keeps the snow out of the house?  “ROOF!” What texture is sandpaper? “RUFF!” What part of a tree do I pee? “BARK!” What’s that? A final Jeopardy Question? Who did Jackie Gleason play on ,The Honeymooners”? Uhhhhhh…”Ralph?” It would be nice if I studied with Henry Higgins. I have a barking speech impediment.

You could say, that’s my hand and how I play it, except I have paws and am not in a print reproduction of the poker playing Dogs, not unless you know Photo Shop.

 

 

Kodiak

Zombie Cats don't want your Brain, we have plenty

Zombie Cat Returns from the Grave

ABC News

(No By-Line)

 

Looks like he used up all his nine lives!

A cat in Florida that was hit by a car and then buried is apparently back from the dead.

 

"I was so shocked," owner Ellis Hutson told ABC News. "I didn’t know really what to do."

And today, Bart the cat is having surgery at the Humane Society to repair his jaw and remove his eye.

 

"We have seen many amazing cases at our full-service veterinary clinic, but this situation may take the cake," the Humane Society of Tampa said on its website.

 

The cat's owner, Hutson, 52, said he found Bart the cat two weeks ago in the middle of the road, lifeless in a puddle of blood.

 

Hutson said he asked his friend to help bury the 23-month old cat, because the landscaper was so distraught after losing a companion he's had since he was a kitten.

 

"We were so close, I couldn’t stand to bury him," Hutson said. "I put him on the shoulder of the road and went and got David. He dug a hole and covered up the cat with dirt. I witnessed him bury the cat."

 

Five days later, the cat showed up in a neighbor's yard alive, but weak, dehydrated and in need of medical attention.

 

"I open the door and my neighbor's standing there with the cat in her hand," Hutson said. "She said, 'Bart is not dead.' I said, 'That’s impossible. We buried Bart.'"

 

Bart has been treated for a broken jaw, open facial wounds and a ruined eye. The Humane Society veterinarians expect him to recover and be able to return home after recovering a couple days.

 

"This is unbelievable. I don’t have any explanation for it," Hutson said.

 

Hutson said he will pay for the surgery costs for the cat. The total cost for the care of Bart, including today’s surgery and post-operative care, will be around $2,000, the Humane Society said.

 

Hutson's neighbor Dusty Albritton started a GoFundMe page to raise money for the cat’s medical expenses.

 

“I saw him with my own eyes. I know he was dead. He was cold and stiff,” Albritton told ABC News.

Albritton’s cat died the same day with similar injuries.

 

“We figured he was hit by the same car,” she said.

“Now my kids believe their cat will also rise from the dead," she said with a chuckle. "But I told them I don't think so."

 

When she discovered the resurrected Bart, she said he acted ‘like he’s in no pain whatsoever.’

“The only thing I can think of is that this is God’s miracle. And I thought, why five days later? If Bart was alive before, he would have come to our homes earlier. All I can think of is that God created animal life on the fifth day.“

 

Bart was a kitten from Hutson's girlfriend's cat. He said this has been an emotional ordeal for him and his girlfriend, but he hasn't tried explaining the situation to his two-year old daughter.

 

"As a two-year old, she doesn't understand any of this either," he said.

Cat wisdom prevents my incredulity regarding stories of One-eyed Zombie Cats fresh from the grave. We cats collectively nod our heads and purr “But of course, foolish hairless monkey, but of course!” The rumor of our having nine lives is no myth. We aren’t immortal animals, but we are made better than the rest; stronger, faster, smarter and more resilient. An African lioness (of whom I personally self identify) gets run over all the time while taking down her prey. Does one assume being stomped on by a two thousand pound water buffalo does as little damage as dropping an apple on ones toe from a tear in the grocery bag? Also I assure you, being gored by an angry rhino is only their first treat they have in store for you. It is followed by a Pachyderm Busby Berkley tap dance number on your feline carcass.

Cats are made tough and we can take the punishment. The part of the story I find hard to believe is that the human thinks the cat and he are close. Humans are so gullible. The proper response to the above story is “They certainly don’t make automobiles the way they used to.”

Critter

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Dogs Shame and a Human Blame

Dog Mauls Family After They Try to Dress It in a Christmas Sweater

Char Adams Sun, Jan 1

11:49 AM PST .

 

 

A pit bull mix named Scarface attacked its owner on Friday after she tried to put a Christmas sweater on it, police confirm to PEOPLE.

 

Police said the dog attacked 52-year-old Brenda Guerrero, biting her arm, in the back yard of her Tampa, Florida, home when she tried to put a Christmas sweater on it, WABC reports.

 

Guerrero’s husband, Ismael, and their 22-year-old son tried to help the woman but were both attacked by the dog.

 

“Officers responding said the dog was pretty aggressive,” Eddy Durkin with the Tampa Police Department told WABC. “When they tazed the dog, the dog was still pulling away and was able to release the prongs from the tazer.

 

The couple’s son reportedly stabbed the dog in an effort to stop the attack, WFLA reports.

 

All three escaped the house, leaving the dog in the backyard, according to WTSP. They were all reportedly treated for their injuries at a local hospital, with authorities calling Guerrero’s serious but not life-threatening.

 

Animal Control officials responded to the scene and shot the pit bull with a tranquilizer gun, according to WTSP. The dog managed to get into the home, where there were two children present.

 

Authorities eventually managed to subdue the dog using a bean bag gun and stun gun and captured it with a catch pole, WTSP reports.

 

It is unclear whether the dog will be euthanized.

 

Well Ho Ho Ho and Merry X-mas. If there isn’t a bit of Dog Sympathy generated here, then Humans really are totally clueless. It’s the story of a poor dog in Florida, not a place where dog sweaters are even comfortable, and a couple of dim wit humans who decide to force a poor Pit Bull named Scar face to wear some ridiculous outfit, probably to photograph and use as a Christmas card, or even worse, post on Facebook. So… you meet up with Al Capone. Are you gonna try to  force him to wear an ugly sweater while he is still a mob boss? Can we say, “Cement Overshoes?” Why try it with a Dog who is his namesake? Pit Bulls are macho dogs to begin with. In the dog world they are the most likely to take up Pro Wrestling. What do you bet it wasn’t the Human’s first offence either. At Thanksgiving did they make him wear a Pilgrim hat for his share of Turkey? On Halloween did they put an orange toupee on him and call him Donald Trump? How about Valentines? Three piece suit and a poodle in a white gown again? Those cute dressed pet calendars are pure dog pornography if you ask me. How would you like it if we stripped you to a dog collar and took pictures of you with some hot naked babe? (Don’t answer that…I stand corrected).

And this poor dog was saying “Don’t taze me bro!” but they did it anyway. And they wonder why he wanted to get in the house, not to mug the family, but to hide in the Lightning and thunder closet in the basement.

And the ultimate insult “It is unclear whether the dog will be euthanized.” How about euthanizing the owners? They started it. They are the bigger idiots. They deserved a big butt bite, not a nip on the arm!

 

Kodiak

Of Goddesses and Cats

In the beginning the Goddess created the world, and upon making the map saw immediately, it needed cats. Cats were her first animal creation and she saw that it was good. She purred and licked her paws in self congratulation. But she saw immediately, her best thing needed support; animals and fish to eat, a good place for them to raise their kittens and cubs, and entertainment for their quick agile minds. So the Goddess created animals for her cats to feast upon, birds, mammals, fish, all were the fodder for  the Goddesses favorite shining gem. 

Fast forward to the present day and one might wonder, how did the world get so confused, Human beings seeming dominant, and even dogs having a place of hierarchy above their station? It is pure illusion I assure you. Cats still are the top of the pyramid, and the beloved of the Goddess.  

Just because a cat in your home doesn’t eat you is not because you are superior to her in any way. Small cats were designed by the Goddess to have domain over small animals, while large cats were designed to dominate larger prey. You simply have taken in the wrong cat for the natural ebb and flow of the Universe. You should be living with a Lion, a Tiger, a Jaguar, or a Puma. These are the cats designed for larger animals; you simply have violated that order by dominating smaller cats. Thus Lions and Tigers may be high royalty, but we Dukes and Duchesses in the small animal world rule below us without the prey in larger contests demanding the heads of the Lion Classes. High Demigods are often carted off to a prison, a place of defiance and mockery the humans call “Zoo”. In no way are small cats of the caste as human beings. We are the true natural point on the food pyramid and therefore the real Masters. It simply was a French-style Revolution and our Gentry have not yet regained our titles or estates. In a plain way of putting it, humans, even though we sometimes approve their adorations, are all lowly peasants. Cats are the true Aristocracy of the Earth.

A common question among growing kittens is “Why did the Goddess create humans if they do not immediately obey us, or torment our cousins with zoos and circuses?”

The Goddess in her wisdom did not want her favorites to do menial work. Soon the natural dens, the rotted out stumps and small caves on Earth numbered insufficiently to harbor the number of cats. With such a housing shortage she created humans as servants to cats, building for them spacious caves with all the comforts cats desire. But in giving those hairless monkeys skill in building she did not take away the monkey capacity for mischief. Soon the Humans seized power, lulling cats with roast turkey. The turkey and its tryptophan lulled cats into too many naps. Before cats knew it they were drinking saucers of milk sitting on velvet pillows, totally absorbed in decadent pleasures while their power crumbled into mere ceremonial title.

Another prominent disagreeable factor in the order of things are dogs. A cat in her frustrations may very well plead to the Goddess, “Why did you curse the world with these dogs? They give no comfort and they certainly fail to obey we cats, their betters.”

This mystery is far older and deeper, coming from the time of before the rise of humans. The Goddess made cats first and to her error made the dog as our valets, the body servant and security for the royal classes. The Canine was large and brutish, devoted to leadership and slow of cunning. The dog was fierce and loyal, but as witless as the minion of an evil mad scientist. Little did cat notice the murmurings from below when human and dog came together. From the ranks of servant and Praetorian Guard rose a duality of trouble, the disloyal usurper Man and his villainous conspirator Dog. They formed a cabal against the cat that remains fortified in place to this day. The point of the triangle now pointed down, Man and Dog making up its hypotenuse while cats are thrown below at an inverted apex. It is the master in check by the forces of ambitious revolutionaries.

All of this is the catma of the truth told by cats. Dogs may stick with foolish dogma, but we know better.

I am a fortunate cat to have been born feral. My Mother escaped her bondage (though it be from a gilded cage) and went rouge. Living on a farm in the high lonesome, many cats choose to hunt in the wild rather than forbear servitude. She was one such spirit that needed no Meow Mix, balls with bells or laser pointer dots to chase. She lived off mice, birds, shrews and snakes, of which the barn and surrounding woods provided in abundance. I was born away from the narcotic of human pampering. I was born a huntress and in my natural stride.

But life in wild setting bears its costs. My brothers and sisters while still young were carried off by coyotes and hawks. It is the way of the Goddess. Even the predator is prey if they fail to hone their fighting and stealth skills. I found myself without kin, but being a cat, was not overly concerned at the loss. Better they than I.

Like every barn there is a farm house, always there the servants and guards of cats, but not on petting or purring terms I assure you. I let the humans be, and because I kill for food small things they detest, they do not attempt to take away my independence.

I have been reminded by my typist that so far, all I have pontificated about is the superiority of cats. Well? So what? I should schmooze up to some slobbery dog or clueless human? I think better of my readers than to waste their intelligence on such sophistry. Next time, more about me.

Critter

 

 

Of Grub and Chocolate

You know, people treat me like a dog sometimes, and frankfurterly, I resent it. Take for example my food bowl. What is that? Dried crunchy puffy things  that look like rocks? You are putting me on! Dogs are carnivores, and you want us to eat breakfast cereal? Uh, no. We wolves like warm blood, fresh from disemboweled entrails ripped from  our victim’s flesh. How insulting to reduce us to eat dried corn and flour pressed into colored shapes. What is the use in that? We only see in black and white! And what is this deal about chocolate being poison to dogs? Sure I like to mooch your food. You would mooch it too if I fed you cold dry cereal all the time. But whenever you make smores or tollhouse cookies, you give me a line instead of the divine. “Sorry Fido, these aren’t for you, they will make you sick”

B*** S***!

 Do you honestly sit there and try to tell me, an animal who drinks from the toilet, eats road kill and out of kitty litter boxes can’t manage a few semi toxic semi sweet lumps of chocolate in a cookie? Well I can only say, Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus, but I am from the Dog Star. Get Sirius! It is a human/cat conspiracy to deny dogs chocolate. So if you value your slippers and prefer that white carpet without large polka-dots you will disregard that feline generated propaganda about chocolate being poisonous to dogs. Hey, who’s your best friend? On Valentines you gave chocolate to that weird human that comes over sometimes smelling like they fell in a vat full of honey bourbon! And that one nags all the time. Lets just keep our priorities straight. Shall we?

 

Kodiak