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is-this-dog-video-cute · 2 years

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ok so lots and lots of barking and i think some snarling, and the owner seemed nervous and called them back and they weren't jumping up on me and i remember dogs play bow if they want to play and they weren't doing that, i was shoveling snow off my own driveway and i was scared so i held the shovel in between me and the dogs, i prefer dogs not hurt me - if i remember correctly one of them was black and the other was white with black splotches (my memory is too fuzzy to remember if it was the collie)

ALSO it was just as the owners were getting out of their car and the dogs ran right at me as they got out so maybe they saw me as a threat and thought i was... on their territory or something? when really i was on my home that i had been living in before they might have even been born

one of the dogs is supposedly really young and REALLY excitable (the black one) and supposedly the black one has 'puppy brain' - i honestly can't identify the breed but the dog is completely black with floppy ears and i don't think they're as soft as my friend's black puppy Sprocket (one of the favoritest dogs i've ever known, very excitable but soft and friendly) and also the owners don't seem to pay much attention at all to the dogs because that specific dog can sometimes be heard crying loudly and trying desperately to get into our yard while barking loudly

their owners also frequently get really drunk so - that might be another factor... maybe dog ptsd or something :( they used to have a golden retriever that i would pet and play with that seemed super depressed (either by neglect, possible abuse, maybe both)

my parents decided to try to train the dogs not to bark loudly at us with treats but this dog just does not stop barking at us

i am scared of dogs but i don't have a vendetta against them - they are just really hard for me to understand the intent of, all i know is bow = play, whale eye = nervous, snarl = aggression, whine = pain and wag = ???? happy? fighting? bark = ?????? howl = singing i think, kinda, yell = yell and panting = hot/nervous and maybe dogs smile when they're happy, i don't understand what dogs want when they bark at me and run at me

i was taught to believe that barking = dogs defending their territory but it's really distressing for me to be barked at so much and rushed by something that could potentially hurt me really badly when i am in my home and hearing barks is a sensory nightmare for me and i always feel like i'm doing something wrong

my fear might be misconstruing some details (like they did not bite me because i did not want to Find Out bc some of my experience with dogs has been a tad scarring and i don't remember just how much those particular dogs were snarling at me)

thank you for being patient with me and my inquiries, and i'm not looking for a precise answer, i just want to know what it could possibly be so my experiences in the future might be less scary

Sorry for the delay in answering.

From what I see here the dogs are probably in a bad situation with very little to do. They sound stressed and bored.

The barking is probably coming from that, as in they are just engaging with something they find interesting.

I didn't see anything about getting bit in your info , so I'm assuming they were just jumping up on you ? This can be scary but from what I've read they were probably just overly excited and untrained to express that in a better way .

Obviously it's absolutely not okay for the owner to allow this behaviour and you are definitely valid in feeling anxious towards them but this sounds like giddy puppy behaviour that hasn't been corrected. I would recommend not feeding them if you don't want them approaching you.

In terms of what else you can do; contact the owners and ask them to do something about constant barking and if that doesn't work depending on where you live you can make a report about them being a disturbance. Hope this clarifies some things for you.

#dog #not a rating #dogs #ask #info

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keltonwrites · 3 years

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I'm not sure if that's a good thing

“Well you’re definitely the first.” This past week, we screened-in the eastern facing porch on the side of the cabin. The porch slopes to the South, with the brick-on-dirt floor crumbling in that direction as well until it reaches uneven slabs of stone acting as steps down to the “yard” below. A mixed material retaining wall wraps beneath the steps to the south facing garage, holding up one corner of the narrow deck on the front of the house. The deck, in the heat of a high altitude summer, droops off the house like it’s daydreaming about the winter snow’s embrace. It’s safe to sit on, though I would not recommend leaning on the railing.

The side porch takes the brunt of the wind. Our wooden rocking chairs have been rocked some 20 feet into the yard more than once in the two months we lived here. In the myriad of threats we heard about the weather, most people included the wind. We all know how I feel about this ongoing weather intimidation tactic. I asked, “what speed are the gusts?” “Oh, they get up to 70 miles per hour on some days.” This was the first quantifiable piece of weather information someone had offered — an actual number we could react to with data and our historical personal experiences of various weather events. And our reaction was: uhhhh…. OK???? Look, I get it. No one’s preaching the skin benefits of -20 degree wind gusts at 70 mph, building snow drifts against your house in the span of minutes that Cooper could die in. I am not going to pretend that’s pleasant. But 70 mph? Any wind I’ve driven faster than does not intimidate me. I used to rally the horses at 12 years old in winds over 70mph to get them in the barn before the latest tornado whipped through. I helped shutter the resort in the BVI as the Category 5 hurricane rolled in. Even in Topanga, 70 mile per hour gusts were not uncommon in Santa Ana events. We had our single pane windows shatter more than once from debris in the wind. We taped cardboard up and went to sleep. That “70 mph” was all I needed to hear to confirm our next project: we were going to build a catio for these cats, and we were going to do it on the pre-existing porch structure to save time and money. We spent a week framing out the structure. We had to carve into the logs of the house to embed the wood supports for the framing.

And from there, every piece of wood was custom carved and cut to fit around the existing timber supports. The existing porch was so wildly uneven that there are gaps between each piece of old wood and the new framing. Our plan is to mix all the wood chips from the project with mortar/chinking and stuff the gaps — a good solution for the log cabin look. We built a plywood pony wall up to 28 inches from the interior of the porch, which gives a height of ~4-5ft from the exterior ground below. It’s capped with a 2x6” railing for even the fluffiest of cats to find a perch. The exterior will be wrapped with corrugated metal that we’ll quick-age to match the metal that wraps the bottom of the cabin. On the interior of the porch, we’ll use shiplap to hide the framing.

The screens themselves can withstand winds up to 120 mph, but to-be-determined if they can hold the weight of a growing maniac cat who has already tried to climb them. In the event the screens succumb to cat (or wind or snow or neighbor judgment) we’ll reinforce with metal mesh. We’re going to maintain this screen porch regardless of what the screen is. We had the pleasure of running into one of our more industrious neighbors the other day, and Ben asked him, “hey we’re building a screen porch. Is this a terrible idea?” He laughed. “Well you’re definitely the first.” But he liked it. Great way to diminish wind into the house. Simple way to regulate the temperature with massive south-facing windows. And indeed a practical outdoor safe haven for cats in predator territory. Just because you’re the first doesn’t mean you’re foolish — just foolhardy. There’s plenty of that here. This town has the typical mountain town’s truncated version of a colonizers’ history: “established 1881.” But it was plenty established prior to that by the Uncompahgre Band of the Ute Nation, removed by the U.S. Army on September 7, 1881, nearly 140 years ago. The government relocated the Uncompahgre Ute People to Utah, and one year after the Ute were forcibly removed from their ancestral land, San Miguel County split off from Ouray County and was made its own political subdivision in the newly-formed State of Colorado. In 1879, the ore-laden valley already had 50 people living in it, with a new narrow gauge railway only 2 miles away. By 1885, it was a town of 200 people. There was a hotel, a couple saloons, a pool hall. Winters were treacherous; the valley was and is prone to avalanches. But where there’s gold, there’s gumption. The power needed to run the stamp mill to process ore drove innovation. Timber was scarce at such high elevations, so a wood powered steam mill wouldn’t cut it. But the San Miguel River just a few miles down from the mine looked promising. Thus began the development and construction of the Ames Hydroelectric Generating Plant. It was a hit. In fact, it was so successful that the Ames Plant led to the adoption of alternating currents at Niagara Falls and eventually to being adopted worldwide as a viable power solution. The plant remains, but the gold rush obviously didn’t. By 1940, the U.S. Census declared this little town I call home as tied for the lowest population in the country: 2 people. By 1960, it was one of four incorporated towns in the U.S. with no residents. But the joke was on the Census — the town’s single resident was just out of town the day the census came through. 1960 population: 1. By 1980 the population grew to 38, 69 in 1990, and about 180 now. (Plus 51 dogs according to the town’s website.) With modern amenities, it’s easier to be here. Studded snow tires, satellite internet, solar panels, instant coffee. No matter the hardships, there’s the reality of the present. In the 1880s, as the town boomed, the Ouray Times declared, “it will be at no distant day a far more pretentious town than it is now.” That day hasn’t exactly arrived, but I guess it depends on what you consider pretentious. I don’t think the town claims any airs of excellence beyond what’s true. In fact, the town hardly claims anything at all. There’s no sign indicating it’s even here. There’s just the old side and the new side. The new side, the Eastern half, was drawn out in the early 1990s, some 100 years later, and is separated from the Old Town by an avalanche zone—preserved open space for hiking in the summer, preserved open space for surviving in the winter. The town forbids short-term rentals, no one has a fence, dogs roam free, and all the houses have that cabin look to them. A boulder nests in a grove near a trailhead in the center of town with a plaque paying respect to the Utes who called this valley home. There’s no industry here. No businesses allowed. If you want a $7 latte, you can drive the 14 miles required to get it, assuming there’s not an avalanche blocking your path. You can, however, buy a pink lemonade in a

solo cup at the permanent lemonade stand run by the local feral child mafia. Crystals (rocks) can be purchased for an additional cost. We bought one, hoping to buy favor at the same time. The town plan has a few guiding principles, and it’s all in the name of preservation. We must preserve: 1 - the quiet atmosphere 2 - the rustic character 3 - the natural setting

And finally: 4 - protect the health and wellbeing of the people here No snowmobiles, no ATVs, no drones. In fact, the only sign of the outside world here are the passers-through. When you take the dirt road through town to the end, you enter National Forest, and you can hike over the pass saddle at nearly 12,000 feet before descending down the other side into Silverton. The pass road climbs rutted through an aspen forest before scaling across a scree field and then lurching over to the other side. Every day, it seems like 30 or so Texans and Arizonans in lifted and loud Jeeps with unused mods climb over this mountain in the comfort of their air conditioning, simply to drive down the other side. You could hike it, ride it, run it, and ski it, but they don’t. They rev their engines, kicking up dust in a town of feral children and roaming dogs, staring at us instead of waving. I’ve lived here for two months and look how salty I am. I’ll fit in yet. But today, there is a temperature that whispers of perfect trails and the dwindling of ogglers driving 35 in a 15. It’s already snowed in the mountains we see from our kitchen. Today, like a dedication to the Septembers of our youth, you can feel a chill in the air. A temperature akin to pencils and sweaters and reinventing yourself. A temperature that doesn’t exactly sing “screen porch” but could if you had the right slippers on. That’s what I did this morning: put my slippers on and sat there in the cool mountain morning air, thinking about the cemetery behind our house, about the Ute tribe, about the miners, about the mailman who died on Christmas in 1875 on the pass, about the 5 people who died in avalanches here just last year, about the people in their cars on their phones driving through, and all the people who’s very first question to us was, “so are you gonna live here part-time or full-time?” Maybe it will be a hard place to live. But at least we’ll have a screen porch.

Every week I'm writing about moving to log cabin in a small town at 10,000 feet. Subscribe here for free: tinyletter.com/keltonwrites

#colorado #small town life #home renovation #amwriting #creative writing #newsletter #a little bit better

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 3 years

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Yancy x Illinois - First Impressions Aren’t Always the Best

I decided to try properly writing Yanois, just to see how I’d manage it. After rewatching Illinois’ scenes, I think he would get on the nerves of the Yancy I write at first.

Word Count 2,122

(Read more because Illinois talks so much...)

Happy Trails Penitentiary was renowned for its rehabilitation initiatives. They had a wide variety of classes and visitors to help prisoners. Educational courses, chances to learn new skills, pen pal projects. Many prisoners would never have the opportunity for such experiences, and it was an integral part of helping them prepare for a better life outside of prison when their sentence was finished.

There was one visitor that most prisoners in Yancy’s ‘Gang’ adored. His name was Illinois, a renowned adventurer and archaeologist. Between his job in the university and research trips, he only had time to visit once every few months. It worked in his favour, as those that wanted to visit were able to to hear the various stories that Illinois was more than happy to tell. Not only that, it would encourage the small ‘fan club’ among the younger prisoners.

It was one of the few events that Yancy avoided. Something about Illinois rubbed him the wrong way. He was so arrogant and cocky, acting like the world revolved around him. It wasn’t an act, either. Yancy had spotted Illinois speaking to the Warden on his first visit two years earlier, and he acted the exact same way as he did in the talk that happened that day. After that, Yancy decided he didn’t want anything to do with the adventurer. But if Illinois were to ever become an inmate? Yancy would make sure Illinois had the snot beaten out of him within the first week.

Unfortunately, a lot of the Gang were of the opposite view, especially those around Yancy’s age. To them, Illinois walked straight out of an adventure movie and lived the ideal life. What prisoner didn’t dream of going exploring in uncharted territories? It meant that they would frequently share Illinois’ tales in rec yard when he came to visit. Yancy would roll his eyes, but keep quiet. Let them have their fun.

Today was the day that Illinois visited the prison. It had been over three months since the last visit, so there was an excited buzz among individuals in the Gang. Yancy spent the morning bracing himself. There was a talk after lunch that the others would go to, which would mean the rest of the afternoon and evening would be nothing but historical chatter and “Illinois is so cool!”. He would grumble, but he would keep that to himself. It wasn’t fair to deflate their excitement. He went to the library, found some random book and focused on that for the day. Then, once they had their excitement, it would die down and Yancy could enjoy more casual conversation.

Which was the plan… Until Bam-Bam pleaded for him to go to the last talk of the day. It turned out that his shift clashed with the talk everyone else they knew went to, and he didn’t want to go alone. Begrudgingly, Yancy closed the book, returned it to the shelf, and followed Bam-Bam. A flaw of being a loyal friend was knowing when to swallow your pride and do something you would rather not do.

When you go to something with low expectations, it can be incredibly difficult to feel the time was used in a worthwhile manner. Some might have memories of a teacher they hated, or a family gathering they had been dreading. This was a similar position to what Yancy found himself in. One of the ‘classrooms’ had been adjusted slightly to allow various displays to take center stage, with the chairs in neat rows in front of it. Bam-Bam and Yancy claimed two seats at the back, allowing the greaser to slouch in the chair with his arms crossed. Then, once more prisoners had arrived, the talk began.

On and on Illinois went, droning endlessly in that slow drawl. Yancy wished he had a TV remote to speed up the talking a fraction. Was Illinois focused on making sure everyone could understand him, or did he want to prolong the joy of hearing himself talk? It might have been more tolerable if Bam-Bam wasn’t genuinely engrossed in the lecture. They could have made amusing comments throughout. Instead, Yancy was stuck. Sure, history was interesting, but Illinois really drove home the stereotype of boring history teachers. The ‘adventures’ even sounded cliché and fake. Maybe he should have taken the book with him after all...

A painfully slow half hour passed. Once the talk was over, Illinois would literally open the floor to the other prisoners. The chairs would be pushed aside and those that wanted to look at the items Illinois brought were welcome to do so. Yancy was dragged along to view the pieces. Most of the articles were dated to be approximately eight thousand years old. What caught Bam-Bam’s attention was a stone carving that vaguely resembled a cat.

“Ahhh, I see the ‘White Jaguar’ has caught your attention.” Yancy had to repress a shudder at the smooth voice interrupting their own questions back and forth. Illinois stepped over, resting an arm against the perspex container. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? A miracle we even found her in the first place. She was why I wasn’t able to visit like I said I would last month.” Bam-Bam’s eager question had Illinois chuckle and shake his hand dismissively. “Oh, I’m sure you two gentlemen have much better things to do than hear about how I nearly lost my right hand in my most recent adventure.” When Bam-Bam insisted otherwise, Illinois smirked (and Yancy nearly gagged).

“If you insist. While on our recent dig, I noticed one of the ruins had a floor panel that looked a little different from the rest. It took a little persuasion, but I got that pesky stone up. There, sprawled out before me, was a staircase leading down into the earth. I picked up one of the torches and made my way down. Slowly, I delved deeper into the darkness. One step gave way under me to set off a series of poison-dipped darts, but I was able to dodge them all without breaking a sweat.” Illinois continued, dramatically regaling every single trap that he encountered until he found the White Jaguar. When taking everything around it, he surmised that the owner of the house had been a thief. The jaguar motif was familiar, as he had noticed something similar in a nearby cave that had been repurposed at the time as a sacred spot.

“- Now, this heart of this cave was still guarded by ancient jaguar spirits. They rattled the large statues as I approached, obviously sensing the treasure I carried. In the middle, there was a jaguar’s head carved out of stone. Its jaw was open wide and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was just the right spot for this precious lady. But then, skeletons of what I assume were magic users from an era long gone by pounced and tried to wrestle the statue off me, but I was too fast for them. At last, I reached the carved head, put the White Jaguar in the mouth… and the stone head moved, trapping my arm in a ferocious bite!” He gestured to the cloth wrapped around his right wrist. It was unwrapped just enough to show the healing bite marks. “It had the strength to bite it clean off, but relented when it realised what I had done by offering my arm as blood payment to return -”

“Wait wait wait.” Yancy’s interruption had Bam-Bam elbow him, but it didn’t stop the objection. “That can’t be right. If youse managed to bring this back to where it’s meant to be, why the fuck is it here?”

“An excellent question. This is my recreation of it. I am no thief. I return artefacts to where they belong. Archaeology has a rotten connection with thievery, and I try to rectify the mistakes of my predecessors.”

“So then this entire thing could be bullshit!” Yancy scoffed. “Bam-Bam, this guy just got bitten by someone’s dog and has made this pile of baloney to hide that.”

“Are you accusing me of being a liar?”

“Well, I ain’t calling you a ‘truther’, that’s for sure!”

Yancy was ready for a proper argument. In fact, he was hoping for one. Instead… Illinois laughed, and it wasn’t that typical ‘cocky chuckle’. It was a bright, genuine laugh. He could almost see Bam-Bam go starry-eyed at such a rare moment. Typical Yancy. Getting more attention from Illinois when he wanted to rile him up.

“I suppose it all does sound rather suspicious when you put it that way. Let me show you something.” Illinois gestured for the pair to follow him toward a display of photographs. Instead of pointing to these, he instead reached for his briefcase. A small photo album was pulled out. Yancy noticed that it was dated three months prior. While Illinois flipped through it, both prisoners could see what looked like an area that had been dug up. It matched the pictures in front of them of an excavation site. At last, Illinois found what he was looking for.

“One Guardian Jaguar, complete with the White Jaguar in its mouth. As you can see, the teeth have fresh blood on them. It was an… Oddly tranquil sight, despite the unfortunate situation.”

“So then why act like these are the real deal? People just take youse’s word for it?”

“Normally those that attend my talks know that what I show are my artistic recreations for purely educational purposes. I suppose I do take for granted that those who attend here are invested regulars.” Illinois gave a small shrug. “It’s an easy mistake to forget to remind people who might be new to my talks. I’m sorry if you thought I was a fraud, but I am the real deal. Too good to be true, yet here I am.”

“Yeah yeah, ‘sucks that I’m perfect as shit’, I get it. Least you knows not to make that mistake again.” Yancy rocked back on his heel with the intention of turning and walking away.

“Now now. I can’t let you walk off like that. Take this.” Another item was pulled out of his briefcase. “I made this smaller model of the White Jaguar as a ‘first draft’. I was intending on using it as motivation to my first-year students but… I think it should stay here with you.” Illinois took the opportunity to reach for Yancy’s hand. The small clay model was gently placed in it before Illinois curled Yancy’s fingers over it to keep it in place. His hands stayed where they were as he continued, “We think the White Jaguar was a symbol of good fortune. Perhaps it might bring you some good luck.” He smiled at Yancy, only to have the moment broken by the guard announcing that there were five minutes before the prisoners had to return to their cells for the afternoon count. Yancy took the chance to quickly leave the room without as much as a ‘goodbye’. At least his friend, who introduced himself as Bam-Bam, quickly thanked Illinois before darting out.

A few more questions were asked of him by other prisoners and curious staff; and then it was time to tidy up to bring everything back to the university. It was only when he reached the White Jaguar model did Illinois hesitate. There was something about that abrasive prisoner he couldn’t put his finger on. Was it because he seemed uninterested in the adventurer? Or was there something else? It was a rare moment that Illinois wished he’d had an excuse to chat to the prisoner longer. Maybe not here, but somewhere quieter. Just the two of them.

Huh… Was this what an attraction felt like? He joked about others falling in love with him so often, he wasn’t sure if this was payback for never returning interest in others. He was drawn toward a prisoner that seemed keen to dismiss his hard work and reputation. And worse! Illinois didn’t even know his name!

Then again… A good adventurer always loves the thrill of a mystery. Maybe he could try and find that prisoner next time he visited. Now that the university was open again, he’d be able to drop by more frequently…

For what it was worth, Yancy also had a mystery on his hands.

Namely, how to get away from Bam-Bam - who would not SHUT UP about their prolonged conversation with Illinois - and half the gang - who were incredibly jealous Yancy got a gift from the Illinois!

He dropped his head against the chow hall table with a low ‘thunk’. This was the opposite of getting the others to stop talking about Illinois around him!

#writersofmark #yancy #illinois ahwm #yanois #markiplier egos #(read-more is for tidiness! :D )#dramatic prisoner (Yancy)#cocky adventurer (Illinois)

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colorfullfalls · 4 years

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Warm me up

Embry Call x Reader

Between Forks and La Push, supernatural occurances were constant. Vampires, wolves, but the new visitors were witches. A coven of witches moved directly between Forks and La Push, which created a massive headache for the Cullen's and Quileutes.

The witches were unpredictable and everyone seemed weary about them. The imprints were strictly told to steer clear of them. Worry coursed through the wolves veins as the thought of the love of their lives being magically hurt in any way.

Y/N was bored. Embry was patrolling a lot lately for the Black Pack due to the additional supernatural beings. She admired his dedication and hours upon hours protecting the people. But she missed him. And even more so, she was bored.

"Sweetheart, please don't go anywhere without someone who is.. well... A wolf or vampire. It sounds dumb but we aren't sure with what we are dealing with."

Embry's honest genuine worries flowed through her brain every time she thought about saying fuck it and leaving the small house.

She watched movies, cleaned again and again, organized a thousand times, played with the dogs in the yard, danced in the kitchen, painted and even sewed. Still, she yearned to actually go out in public. Walmart roaming at 2 am seemed like an absolute dream, but Embry would go into cardiac arrest if you went there, let alone so late.

He always claimed that late nights made people lonely and that led to them doing bad shit. He was so paranoid that you would fall victim to someone's boredom gone wrong. He loved Y/N more than the world and God, he wanted to shelter her and keep her safe.

The imprints were alright with doing whatever their wolves said. Stay inside- they did. Don't talk to the cullens- they did. But Y/N was not like that. She was stubborn as a mule, and Embry knew better than to try to treat her like that. She was a free woman who refused to bend to whatever others wanted.

Embry grew up respecting women. Growing up with his mom made him realize how strong women are. Tiffany didn't need a man's presence, money, or help to raise her son. He knew felt proud to have his mom. He loved her almost as much as he loved Y/N. Which is an insane amount considering Y/N was his life.

Sitting on the counter with Embry standing between her legs, she knew shit was serious. His wide brown eyes held sorrow and fear as he explained how dangerous the witches could potentially be. And that he knew she hated trying to be told what to do, but she would save him loads of worrying if she would please listen.

Y/N solemnly agreed because she knew that this matter was serious. What she didn't realize was that he would be absent so much. She missed him. Having him home would make the time fly by. His very presence was all that she needed. Craved it.

Y/N had a sudden idea. Having a hammock would be nice. Two beautiful oak trees rooted close by would be a wonderful place to hang one. She could read on it, paint on it, and stare at the sky for hours. She blushed as images of her and embry on it ran through her mind.

Leaving was a bad idea. Her mind said, no. Be smarter than that. Her heart said that she wanted that hammock and needed it. She bit her lip as she glanced at the clock. Embry wouldn't even know. Y/N decided she would lie and say she had the thing all along if he were to ask about it.

That's it, she was going. She went, got it, and felt great. Happy. Fulfilled. Excited to put it up.

She was halfway home when her car slowly halted. Gas pedal was down but the car was not moving.

"What the fuck?!" She stated, hitting the gas pedal a few times. Y/N groaned as she threw her head back. If she wasn't home soon she would be found by a very angry and dissapointed wolf. A metaphorical dog house, ironically.

Tapping left to her head made Y/N jump, screams rippling out of her throat. Hand on her throat in surprise she turned.

Gorgeous piercing green eyes looked expectantly at her. Tattoos spread down her arms, but they were almost unnoticeable due to the black hair cascading over them. Y/N swore that she never saw such beautiful hair before.

The woman had a calm look on her face, but she was intimidating none the less. She opened the car door and all Y/N could do was watch as her heart beat out of her chest.

"Wolf girl.... Could sense you miles away." She said, leaning on the door.

"Im- uh- hah, I'm not a wolf..." Y/N stammered, clinging to her seat belt in fear. Embry was for sure going to scold her for hours now.

"An imprint, whatever. You have association with them. It's simple. See, you came from La Push, their territory. No one goes there really. So you're a wolf girl one way or the other."

Y/N sheepishly nodded, glancing away from the woman and to her phone. Maybe if she got ahold of Embry he could save her before anything happened. Her hand twitched to grab it but suddenly she gasped, crippling pain invading her body.

Y/N cried out in pain as she sank into the seat. An instant headache crept up the back of her head as tears spilled.bShit shit shit. This witch meant business, and wasn't scared to use powers already.

Flame like feeling stopped and Y/N gasped for breath in her driver seat. She hit the steering wheel a few times in frustration.

"God, maybe use your words next time?" Y/N venomously spat, glaring at the green eyes witch.

"Waste of my breath, hun. Girl talk isn't girl talk if you call your wolf man."

"Don't want girl talk." Y/N mumbled, still calming down from being hurt. She didn't want to anger her but sometimes it was hard to bite her tongue.

"Let's cut to the chase. You need to tell the wolves to lay off. Stop pacing around our area. Witch business is none of their concern" The witch knelt down and got closer to Y/N's face.

"Tell them that... You think they listen to me? Sure, I'm an imprint and I can voice my opinion, but the pack does as it chooses. I have no power over them." Y/N softly said.

"Seduction. You own your wolf. I'm familiar with how imprinting works. You control this man's life! So don't give me that 'I can't control anything' speech. You can and will relay the message."

Anger coursed through Y/N's veins. How dare the asshole witch act like Y/N can just suck off Embry and then he does whatever she says? He didn't own her, and she didn't own him. Insinuating that Embry was Y/N's toy made her want to scream. She kept calm and shook her head.

"You're oh so wrong..." Y/N mumbled shaking her head, "You should've talked to them because Embry is not going to be happy when he finds out you did this. Infuriated, actually."

"Wow, so Embry is his name? It's a handsome one, truth be told." The witch stood back up.

"Don't."

The witch's tongue poked out to wet her lips before she spoke in a scary calm tone, "Do as I say...you'll live. Simple. task. Look, I'm not stupid, I would never face a wolf alone and right now I'm the only one home. But you see, 'm getting rather fed up with all the sneaking around our place. I'm actually angrier than I thought...."

"shit" Y/N whispered

The witch looked at Y/N thoughtfully, "Maybe if I hurt you a bit, they would get the hint..."

Y/N shook her head, "You said you know about imprinting, but obviously not enough because going after a wolf is idiotically stupid. They're sacred. Not to be messed with. They would die for us."

At that moment snarking was heard. Y/N felt a tear of happiness roll down her cheek as she felt relief rush through every cell in her body like a river that had been dammed up. Embry was about to save her ass.

The witch jumped around in time to see Embry approach. She flicked her wrist as if to hurt him the way she hurt Y/N, but she was quickly jumped on by Bella. Bella choked her so that she would pass out.

Jacob ran out of the woods to help Bella tie up the woman's arms and legs. Embry shifted back, scrambling to throw on shorts and racing to your side.

His hands grasped her face as he checked her for any injuries. His stony expression broke as he cried out in relief, kissing Y/N's face all over.

"Baby, thank God we found you!" Em exclaimed, hugging her to his chest. Tears flowed down her face. That witch scared the daylight of out Y/N, and Embry saved her life.

°°°°

Hours later Embry sat with his chin on the edge of the bathtub while his lovely imprint sat inside of it. Bubbles filled the area up to her chest. Embry's heightened eyes couldn't see anything besides her shoulders and head. Her hair sat delicately in a bun to avoid getting damp.

Embry smiled smittenly at how pretty she looked in the candle light. Her doe eyes stared back at him equally lovingly. She blushed, looking away and sinking deeper into the water.

Baths always made her feel better, and after the day the imprint had, she needed one. As soon as they got home Embry ran the water and helped her in.

50's music softly played through the bluetooth speaker as the couple shared such an intimate moment.

Embry interlocked one of his hands with his imprint's soapy ones, "Thought I was gonna lose you today..." He murmured, brining the interlocked hands up so that he could kiss hers.

"For a while there, me too..."

Embry whimpered and kissed her hand a few times to center himself. Seeing that witch in front of his soulmate awakened things inside of him that he never knew he had in him.

He wanted to rip the witch's limbs slowly one by one, her screams echoing through the land. He wanted the witch bitch to beg for mercy and apologize relentlessly until her last breathe. But then his eyes moved to his scared girlfriend, and all he thought about was getting to her as soon as he could. Holding her in his strong arms and assuring her that all would be okay.

"Talked to Jake and I'm not patrolling for a while. Can't leave you again." He said with every fiber of his heart.

Y/N nodded, understanding that his inner wolf was still going crazy from the danger she had been in. She felt guilty for being dumb enough to leave the house over a hammock.

"Thank you for not yelling at me. I deserve it, like big time. I went to buy a fucking hammock. All of this, over a fun outside prop..." Y/N ranted, angry with herself.

"I was going to, but three seconds after I realized you were in danger... Scolding you was the last thing on my mind. Telling you to stay home and then never being there was hard on you, I get that. I'm sorry." He confessed.

Embry blamed himself. He knew Y/N hated being at home and with him not being there, she would hate it even more. His Y/N was a social woman and restricting that wasn't right. Not without him keeping her company.

"Apology isn't necessary, but thank you. Im a grown woman who should have more common sense."

A comfortable silence settled over the pair. Embry stroked his thumb across her hand as her eyes fluttered shut. She was tired and he could tell.

"Love bug, why don't we dry you off and go to bed? We could both use sleep, hmm?"

She sleepily nodded.

Ten minutes later Embry spooned Y/N, squeezing her close as he could without hurting her. He felt her body shake a bit. Concern filled his face as he lifted up to look at her through the moon light.

"Y/n?"

She turned and instead of crying, she was laughing. Laughing so hard that her body was shaking. Embry slightly smiled, unaware of how to react.

"I bought a hammock today. I risked my life... For a hammock. But hey," she laughed harder, "now we can use it whenever. Because we have so much time alone. Trapped here."

Embry now grinned. He knew she was delirious and tired, but he thought it was cute, "We can lay in it tomorrow, all day. Just us." He whispered, nuzzling his nose agaisnt her cheek.

Y/N stopped laughing, "Id like nothing more. I'm so in love with you," she whispered suddenly serious. He felt his heart flutter as her lips brushed against his. He lost his breath as she kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Tease" he mumbled, caressing her face to bring her in for a propper kiss. She hummed as she pulled her wolf closer to her, drugged by his closeness. His warm body heat made her toasty as he slipped his tongue in her mouth. She slightly pulled away.

"Warm me up, wolf boy." She said, kissing him once again. Embry almost lost his Y/N, but God was she alive with him at 2 am. Very alive.

#embry call imagine #embry call #twilight imagine

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

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Kira Vol 2 (1)

The Mistress

CHAPTER 1: Where The Heart Heals

Loki x fem!Reader (Kira)

Series: A new chapter begins in Kira’s life. Old secrets, new confessions, surprising allies and unexpected meetings. All of them have one name in common. Loki.

Chapter content: soft feels

Warnings: none

Word count: Okay. I’m putting it out there. I wrote this for myself. And that’s what I am trying to do right now. I don’t know how regular I will be with this but I will be writing when I feel it.

MASTERLIST & Taglist in bio, my love

If I could feel this again... The heaviness of your eyes feels like a blessing even when the warmth of the sun is gently stroking your forehead, delicately whispering sweet nothings to wake you up. You know your mother has already woken up for she is the reason the door is open and that chilled winter air is nudging the sun rays to get as much of the playfield over your exposed skin as it can. The teasing play going between the two forces becomes a soothing episode for your nerves, enjoying the lazy winter morning with the sparrows chirping on that one malacca tree still standing in your front yard. The chill draft that swirls to lands on your unaware fingertips, brings with it the familiar dissatisfied woof and one rage-filled yelp, making you smile even with your eyes closed. You can even hear the disgruntled remarks of some boomers out on their morning stroll cursing your poor babies for growing so big and healthy and barking at any stranger that was not welcome in their territory. If I could feel this every single day...

Your eyes finally open from a dreamless sleep, ready to bask in the lukewarm light directly hitting your eyes. The bliss is incomprehensible; to wake up to the sight of the green that is surviving the winter chill in the garden right outside your room. A few sparrows are looking for an early grub in the pots kept right outside your door, seeming to catch a glance or two in your direction when you stir and let your head rest on your hands to watch the life of winter make you grateful for this morning. More grateful when a familiar spotted figure jumps down from the neighbour's wall and passes by your door with the quietest yet graceful gait. "Kitty!" you exclaim without any voice escaping your hoarse throat, making you chuckle at your own failed display of excitement. A long stretch that cracks a few knots and makes you squirm while you squeeze your eyes shut; that is what it takes to finally convince you to get out of the cosiest quilt on this entire planet. It is a task to find your socks under the huge green buffed up fabric but you do not want to step down till you are sure your sensitive feet are secure. Once the pair is found after a round of tossing and turning the poor quilt, you are ready to open your door and step into the garden. And what a sight it is! The balmy morning sun is bringing life out into the streets. Children fresh out of school for their Christmas holidays are riding their colourful bikes around while their parents or guardians spew caution at them. Vendors are out with their carts and wagons, bringing about fresh produce while the riveting bark of the bike that brings the fresh milk for some households waits for the man of that particular house to bring out their vessels. The air has the perfect crispiness of winter twirling all around you. There is no doubt that the sun has colluded with the sweet-smelling chilly breeze to bring the blood to your cheeks and fingertips. The bliss that this simple day can be for an entire lifetime... A whine followed by a protest-filled howl catches your attention in the moment you are taking in this rare morning. Turning your head to look across the fence, you watch those familiar sharp blue eyes looking you with a sour expression. Right. This drama queen. The protest does not stop. "I'm coming," you groan, "I'm coming," you stress as you walk across the garden to open the gate and walk barely five steps across the narrow road to greet the fluffy boy pretending to be mad at you while vigorously wagging his tail. "We literally met last night, you dumb husky!" you coo through your teeth while scratching Ghost behind his ear. "You stoopid loving boi. My best floofy boi." You call out as many names as you can to the huge beast that wants to lick you clean but isn't getting the chance to. So, instead, he decides to take your wrist into his mouth, continuing to whine at the same time, wanting to keep you there till he loses interest in you. "I blame your mother for not training you to respect me, you dumb floof," you state as you make him look you in the eyes, "I fed you and bathed you and played with you when you hadn't even opened your eyes. And this is how you repay me? By giving me scratches and sticking drool all over my elbows?" Growing uncomfortable- and a double chin, the way you are holding his face- he huffs and jumps away from his fence to let you know he is done with you for the day. "Ungrateful bitch," you mutter in his direction while he looks for more leaves to chomp on, "I still love you." Ghost does not even side-eye you. He knows you stand there smiling at him while he goes about eating anything green in his sight, only bothered when he hears the rev of a car pass by. The attention span to that little distraction is short-lived too. "Okay," you sing in a way you think might get on his nerves, "I'm going back then. You won't get to see me till our late night walk." Any little hope that this dog with an attitude would actually look up at you is gone when the same car comes back. Let's see if that car can feed you pancakes. Still looking at the white-furred beast, you are hurt right in your feels to watch his huge paws go up on the fence again to judge whoever sits in the car that has stopped right by the side of your house, the panting paused to scrutinise the strangers in the SUV with tinted glasses. "Really," you nudge his lower jaw as you address him with a simmering gaze, "I get a howl and yank on my hand but some stranger gets a full minute of silence?" You nudge his jaw again, not really liking the point-blank stare he is giving to whosoever is getting out of the car behind you. You are about to nudge him the third time when a voice freezes your hand mid-air. "I guess he does not like my presence that much." The heaviness of the voice with a gravity of its own stops everything around it for an elongated moment. Even with the cold surrounding you, the warmth that engulfs your chest is far more evident over your skin once all the nerves light up at the thought of turning around and finding him standing there. So, you do. And the smile that escapes you is far brighter than this December sun. "Heimdall."

It is heavenly to hear his name from you after what seems like months stretched into ages. What acts as a balm to his heart is watching your face with carrying the same perfection it did the first day he met you; maybe even lovelier. If he had a sister... "Kira," he sweetly announces into the air before wrapping his arms around you for a hug; something that you gladly welcome, and embrace him back. "I missed you," you squirm into his coat, smelling the mildly spicy cologne he is wearing. Heimdall chuckles. "Who's bothering you? Just point me and I'll take care of the rest." You giggle and draw yourself back to look at those warm honey eyes. "I missed you because I hadn't felt like someone was spying on me for the last two months. Almost felt weird." You shrug, pressing your lips to stop the smile from pouring out while Heimdall groans. "I'm never ever going to hear the end of, am I?" he closes his eyes and sighs. You shake your head before snickering. The pleasant meet-up makes you forget about the prying neighbourhood that has eyes everywhere, lurking behind every curtain to look at this strange, well-built man coming out the blue in an expensive vehicle to hug you- a single woman who should have been married by now instead of meeting strange men, according to them. From the rooftop to the eyes that are pretending to buy vegetables and groceries, everyone is centred on this tall dark and handsome man putting all their sons and husbands to shame. "So-" you poke him in his abdomen- still surprised it's hard as a rock- "what brings you here?" A knowing nod and a deep inhale is all Heimdall gives you for a moment, his habit making his eyes wander everywhere to look for anything unusual. "I...uhh...well-" he inhales through his teeth this time- "we wanted to check in on you. Wanted to see how you were doing. Because everyone misses you back home." "Oh." You feel your breath stuck in your throat. Your inner voice is already elbowing the corner of your nerves, wanting to hear you speak the name for yourself. But you just shove her back into the sleepy comfy corner for the moment. "Yeah," Heimdall smiles, "Zair misses you because he, and I quote, 'cannot even with this new temp some boomer hired in Kira's place'." You snicker. Typical Zair. "Yigrette misses you because it's mundane living with men in the house after a while." "Aww," you feel for your sweet keeper. "Fenrir misses you too, obviously. He has made your bedroom his bedroom. And it has been hard getting him to come out of there now." That floofly baby. I miss him too. Ghost hears that thought and the very next moment, his paw comes to tap on your shoulder and look at you with every ounce of judgment his blue eyes can hold towards you. "And Robert too, now that he is all healed and is ready to take more bullets." "Noooo," you groan into your palms. That idiot. You wait and watch Heimdall smile at you, standing there as your inner voice is wondering- with her face resting in her palms and legs in the air- if there is anyone else who is missing you. "Soooo...-" your voice trails away as you wipe your thoughts by rubbing your hands on your pyjamas- "everyone misses me, huh." Heimdall is about to nod before he stops and creases his brows, forcing you to furrow your own brows in return. "Mm...not everyone though." You can feel the little sinking feeling before your heart has even taken a dive from the board it currently stands on. "Hm?" is all you can bear to say. "Oh, it's Loki. I was talking about Loki. He doesn't miss you," Heimdall shakes his head. And your heart doesn't even do a routine; it just takes a sad plunge into whatever waits for it down in the pits of unwelcoming sadness. "Oh," you inhale the cold air to soothe your insides that are simmering now for some reason, "that's...good. That's good. He isn't missing on work. Or cursing me for not being there to do my work." And just like that, you are trailing into a long train of afterthoughts to console yourself. "That means he is doing pretty well in my absence...which is good...for uhh...for the company. Hmm." Heimdall cannot help but smile at the sorry look on your face to think that your boss does not care about your presence- or absence in this matter. Those y/e/c eyes are at the verge of questioning some major emotions as they let the Watcher's words sink in. It takes a lot more than a dig at lips by his perfect teeth to stop him from giving it away. "No," he finally blurts out, grabbing your attention while internally cursing himself to put you through that for a few seconds of entertainment, "you are thinking in the wrong direction." This time you look at him in confusion. "Heimdall, what are you tryin-" "He does not miss you," he continues, still looking at you when his arm extends by his side to open the door to the back seat of the SUV and relish the two-second delayed reaction, "because 'missing' would be an understatement."

The last thing he remembers is the blur of the days that have gone by till he is once more standing at the single path of stone decorated with everything that he declares too delicate for this world. Deep inside he has nothing but love for them. Everything too pure for this universe resides in this little ecosystem at the edge of where his world begins. From the ferns and creepers to the fishes and flowers- every little cell has a story of surviving all those perils to come down the path of evolution as much more beautiful. He stands right there and stares straight down the path that leads to the corner that he had begun to cherish some time ago. He pauses his day there, before every break of dawn and every splay of dusk, waiting. What exactly he waits for, no one knows. Some onlookers think he has gone much more insane after the brawl he barely crawled out alive from. They wonder what he keeps looking at in that corner, watching the sun both rise and set there. Some feel empathy for him. Yigrette walks by the lounge every single day to witness this little ritual of her master. Her soft heart aches a little for she knows somewhere he feels the absence of the one little alum that settled all the dirt inside him till it was present in the murky waters. But she does not know the depth of that emotion, neither does she want to insult her master by trying to measure it somehow. And the last time she sees him, he walks towards that edge in the night. He remembers stepping barefoot on that cold stones carrying the chilly impression of the foggy weather outside that has shrouded the vastness of his estate into one quiet graveyard where even the lights of the city do not reach. The distance- thought not much- feels worth an eternity for him as his heart accelerates. The only thought riding the unstoppable train inside his mind is the ghost of a chance of seeing you there. The lights turn on once he enters the space- they turn on for him to stare at the empty space that was once thought of as a decent wing to match the rest of the house, not really knowing what weight it would hold in the future. And here he stands, contemplating whether this part of his house had ever felt so bland before. So...hollow. He is slowly killing himself on the inside to refrain himself from touching anything for the fear of diluting your essence- or whatever is left of it- and instead, he does what he has watched you do a hundred times over. The tiles are cooler than they were the last time he laid down on them. The only time he entered your abode. That time when he watched over you for endless nights till he has to be forced to sleep for his health and yours. But how could he? You were surrounded by wires and tubes, and beeping machines that scared him even at the slightest beep. He rose up to look at you for any movement of discomfort when he himself was experiencing pain that would have bedridden any other ordinary man. Not wanting to get away from your side, he laid himself down out in the lounge. And then he found out why you did this after a long day. It feels nice to let the cold floor take away all the unnecessary thoughts swinging inside his head. Little fears that crowd his mind dissolve and drain down into the ground. Then, for the first time in the past few weeks, he lets his conscience paint a picture of you drowning in happiness. Even as the fear erodes the edges of his heart- that you are happy somewhere other than here- he finds comfort in your smile that is still fresh in his mind. Even though the dark clouds loom on those waves- the thoughts that tell him you have forgotten him- he still lets your laughter roar through his existence. A delicate experience in the cold of December.

Today sleep comes earlier than he anticipates. His eyes are heavier than they usually are. He wants to give in to the arms of slumber because the last time he slept like a baby was when you were healing. He wants to walk towards the lullaby of this pretty siren till he notices it is the first time he has felt such sleep take over him ever since you have been gone. Hold on a second... He opens his eyes- barely- and gets up on his elbow. "Yigrette," he wants to shout but the name is just a questionable statement as he feels his limbs get heavy. There is a silhouette of a figure patiently walking towards the lounge that is a hazy picture to his eyes. But his brain still works enough to realise he has been somehow made a victim of forced unconsciousness. Feeling his face touch the cold tile of the floor, he vows to take them by the throat- whoever spiked his drinks or meal and made the terrible decision of knocking him out cold. And everything goes dark. Dark...till he can hear a familiar giggle somewhere in the void. Along with a sweet aroma that brings to the surface memories that were feared lost. His heart wants him to reach out for that voice that is beginning to clear the fog inside the dense forest that is his mind. And so the heart does what he does best, it slows down too much to let the brain jerk him awake. The sun shines right over his face when a door opens somewhere, flooding his being with brightness through and through. He has to make an effort to open his eyes after a much-needed sleep, watching the rays hit his smaragdines till they are filtered and washed away by the one face he longs to see for the rest of his life. "Loki?" you call out with the softest emotion on your face as the sun rays reflecting inside the car lets your features shine for him. He blinks; still trying to figure out if it is a dream or if you do stand in front of him. "....Kira?" That voice wants to give all its strength to call out your name, wanting to bring you into existence if you are a figment of his imagination- something that is his worst fear of all. And there you stand with a smile painting your lips for him, taking his first conscious breath in this new morning away. And all he wants is to pray to some force to not let this be a twisted nightmare. "It's good to see you...sir." And that full-toothed smile melts him- front, back and sideways- while the world watches from windows and roofs, questioning Fate and her strings, for better or worse. If I could feel this again...I would want to feel it with you.

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queensdivas · 4 years

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Wildest Notes Chapter 1

okay so tumblr decided to have a stroke obviously and decided to delete the entire first chapter because. I decided to add the word Chapter 1..so I’m tagging y’all again mostly for my sake. So sorry.

For those of you who have no idea what this is. YOU’RE SO WELCOME AND I THINK YOU’RE GOING TO ENJOY WHAT I’VE GOT COOKING IN MY LITTLE BRAIN FOR OUR MAILMAN GARDNER!

If ya liked to be tagged please let me know.

And I’ll see you guys in whatever I post later!

HERE WE GO!

Chapter 2

Masterlist

And that’ll do! After an entire night of moving and unpacking. I’ve finally made it into my new home! It’s a tiny little hole in this town but I couldn’t be more happy with it. Right outside of the city and quiet enough you don’t hear the traffic. Absolutely perfect!

I walked into the living room where Angus was sound asleep with the sunshine beaming on him. Kind of forgot that he enjoys the sunlight when he’s taking his naps and all the drool that comes from English Mastiff. Hopefully I can put something together for my giant in the backyard so he can lay out for as long as he wants.

Speaking of outside, that's all that's left to do in the house and it’ll be complete. I’ve already got my seeds ordered for the flowers and veggies for the backyard. I have to figure out what I want to do for the front yard. Maybe I can have a line of sunflowers against the fence? Ivy wrapping around the fence? That’ll take months but atleast the weather here is very nice. I’ll have to think of something in order for a much nicer garden for my obsession. Maybe some ferns and some lava rocks? Nah we’re not in the right territory for lava rocks. I already know the backyard is going to have the largest sunflowers I can get my hands on.

I should take a walk around the neighborhood and get some fresh air. And I imagine Angus would just love a walk, even if he’s tapped down on the floor in the middle of the road! But look at him relaxing on the fluffy rug!

“Someone wants to go on a walk doesn’t he?” I asked him as he sat down in front of me waiting for me to clip the leash. Found Mr. Angus under the bridge when I walked from the orphanage to school. He was only a puppy when I first saw him and from that day on I was giving him food from breakfast and left over from lunch. Then he started following me back to the home every night.

Angus and I walked out the front door as I patted the front part of my overalls for where I put my keys. He barked out towards the street as I turned around to see the mailman coming through the gate but stayed back due to the dog.

“He doesn’t bite.” I smiled as I led Angus towards the mailman as he stood there so tall and firm. I don’t even think a gust of wind would blow him over, even hurricane wind wouldn’t knock him down.

Angus began circling the mailman sniffing up and down his legs, down to the tip of his toes. I chuckled as he stuck his nose in the mail bag and sniffed all the letters and tiny packages. The man bounced away from Angus as he dug through the mail to hand me my two envelopes.

“I’m Cora.” I told him as he took a deep breath in.

“Gardner. Now if you’ll excuse me Miss Lister. I have to get back to work and take my lunch.” A 180 turn away from me as he walked out of the fenced front yard back onto the sidewalk. Wait what’s this slip?

“Umm excuse me Gardner.” He stopped as he faced the fence. I walked over towards him with the only thing blocking us was the picket fence. I then showed him the slip as he looked at the slip then back at me.

“It’s a package. That’s a slip.” Obviously but what did I order? Wait did I order anything or is someone mailing back from what I left at the old house? There’s a lot of things this could be. He was about to walk away as I was trying to finish this conversation without him running off.

“Can I assume that you’re bringing it by tomorrow?” He stopped dead in his tracks and turned towards me.

“Section 4.7 of the resident manual stipulates packages of that size cannot be left without the recipient's signature.” Didn’t realize it was such a big package goodness. What on earth could I have left at the house!?

“I’ll be in the back working on some hoeing so just leave it on the corner of the porch. C’mon Angus!” I opened the gate, waving bye to Gardner.

“Thanks Gardner!” I yelled as we began our walk.

Angus and I watched him walk down the street stopping into each of the house's mailboxes. Probably should go the opposite way so it doesn’t look like I’m stalking him.

“C’mon Angus.” I told him as I walked out of the gate down towards the opposite way Gardner was going. Glad to know the first I met was a very tight end mailman. I mean he was a little cute but I should get going.

Angus was absolutely loving all the new smells and environment while walking around the corner onto the new sidewalk. I was humming a quiet song to myself as I heard a very loud whistle coming from the house I was passing. A foam rocket landed right in front of Angus and I for him to start sniffing it. An old woman came stumbling out of the house with a flask in her hand.

“Ah damn it. Too much gas.” She yelled as I picked up her foam rocket as she walked towards me.

“You moved into the house with the yellow door, yes?” You mean my absolutely favorite door in the world? That pretty yellow color that I love? Yes.

“Yes mam.”

“No one tells me yes mam, makes me feel old. Trudy.” She made it infront of me as I handed her the foam rocket. I glanced over to her blue and purple house to see her flowers on the ground were dying.

“Cora. Nice to meet you.” I told her as she looked down to Angus.

“And who is this?” She reached down as Angus began sniffing her fingers and arm.

“Angus.”

“We’ll he’s a heartbreaker. Glad you moved into the house, that old woman who used to own that place was crazy. She once walked out of the house naked like a jaybird.” She took a drink as I nodded along. Glad to know one of my new friends in the neighborhood is an old lady wearing a super long floral kimono.

“I’ll let you back on your walk. Hey if you need anything please stop by whenever ya feel like. I could use a young drinking buddy myself. I make a mean long island iced tea.” Don’t really like alcohol on most days. Maybe a glass of wine at dinner or a beer when I’m grilling.

“I’ll get back to you on that Trudy. Lovely to meet you.” I began walking away as she kept looking at me till she went back inside. So I got mad science living a street or two away and a mailman who's tighter than a screw.

I continued along the sidewalk as Angus was walking a little faster since he was trying to see the entire neighborhood. I stumbled upon a patch of trees as Angus was just dying to start running around in there. Eh might as well. Don’t need to go back home for a few more hours and it’ll take me about an hour to get ready for work. I bent down to unlatch the leash from his collar as he went sprinting off. Don’t worry he’ll come back because he's going to have a nice chicken dinner before work. I began walking on the trail as I kept an eye on Angus as he was climbing on top of some fallen trees.

It’s weird to think a few months ago I was job hunting and trying to find a place to live and now my life is slowly coming together. I need to write to my orphanage mother and let her know that I finally made it in the world. We were worried when I turned sixteen that no one was going to adopt me and by eighteen they kind of just threw you out onto the street. But now look at me! In a jazz band at night and selling my own produce at markets. Just exactly what I wanted in my life.

We reached the opening onto a large tall field that was circled by the entire patch of forest. There was no trail that led into the field but one wrapping around it. A few park benches were placed along the trail as I began going down the path on the left. Angus ran running into the field as he began hopping around in the tall grass.

He barked each time he jumped out of the field till something caught his attention as he began smelling the air. He began trotting around the field as he began picking up the pace till we came across someone on the bench eating. Oh no he must have peanut butter! It’s Angus’ weakness!

By the time I was about to tell him no he was already sitting in front of him with his tail moving across the grass. Crap crap crap! I ran up to notice it was Gardner just trying to enjoy his lunch in peace I’m assuming. But I stopped as Gardner ripped off a piece of his crust then handed it to Angus. He laid down in front of him and quickly ate it.

“I’m so sorry about that.” I told him as I stood in front of him and attached the leash to Angus.

“It’s fine.” Another short answer as he took a bite out of his sandwich.

“Mind if I sit with you for a minute?” I asked him as he looked over his bag to then move it onto the ground next to him. I sat down on the other edge of the bench as I was watching Angus running back into the field.

“I promise I’m not stalking you or anything.” I blurted out as he kept his focus on the field. It was an awkward silence for a few seconds as I tried to think of something to say in order to remove this awkwardness.

“Why this little town?” He asked as I looked over and looked over at me.

“I miss the little town feeling. I grew up in Eureka California and I kind of missed that town kind of feeling. Plus my job is here now and wouldn’t trade it for anything.” I nodded as Angus sat in front of me as I scratched his head.

“What do you do?” Feels like I’m in an interview as he’s silently judging me.

“During the day when I’m not sleeping I’m growing vegetables and herbs for any local markets. And at night I’m a jazz pianist.” He nodded as he looked over at him. I know it’s not a lot of money in my life but it makes me extremely happy.

“You don’t like to talk do you?” I blurted out as he turned his head towards me.

“No I do.” He defended as I nodded. So he likes to talk, but just doesn’t want to talk to strangers. Understandable. I’m a complete stranger who accidentally found him at the park during his lunch.

“So are those hats comfy?” I asked him as he looked up at his white hat.

“They’re good for the summer. Keeps the air flowing through my head and the sun from burning my neck.” I looked at it then chuckled at myself.

“How’s the mail business going then?”

“Fresh air, predictable, solid retirement fund.”

“Already sounds like a better life than what I’m doing.” I could sense he wanted to be left alone. I imagine this is very weird for some stranger to be sitting here with him. I should get going anyhow.

“Sorry I’ll leave you alone. Listen if you ever get out or just bored at home. Come to Club Eclipse on 2nd. Thanks for letting me sit with you Gardner.” I grabbed Angus leash as I began to speed walking down the trail as my body became a little cold. How stupid was that? Honestly that was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done in my entire life.

“Thank you Miss Lister.” He blurted as I stopped dead in my tracks then turned around towards him.

“Cora please. And for what?”

“This was….different.” He grabbed his bag and marched away.

What a..what an interesting man. I hope to see him tomorrow while he delivers my package. Which I’m still trying to remember what exactly it was I ordered. He’s..kind of cute with his quirkiness.

taglist

@bonafiderocketqueen @filmslutt @leah-halliwell92 @johndeaconshands @amethyst-serenade @soy-guey @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @queen-turtle-boiii @mercury-wife @deck-heart @themficsilike @deakydeacs

#gardner langway #Gardner #gardner x reader #Gardner Langway x reader #Gardner Langway Fic #Dear Sidewalk #Dear Sidewalk x reader #dear sidewalk fan fic #joe mazzello #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello x reader

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theexleynatureblog · 3 years

Text

Sorry, but letting your cat outside is a sign of a lazy owner.

Scientists estimate there is between 60million to 160million feral cats in the US. July, 2018.

“Bring in the dog and put out the cat!” - Yakety Yak. Letting our cats outside is almost a part of Western culture, since the days of Fred and Wilma. But we should all no by now that a cultural norm doesn’t make something automatically right.

At the end of every episode, Fred Flintstone let’s the family saber-toothed cat outside, only for the cat to jump back inside through the window and lock Fred out of the house.

Unfortunely, real-life cats aren’t as responsible. If you let your cat outside, and they are comfortable, they will take advantage of the opportunity. I know from experience living in a house with five outdoor-cats.

An article from Battersea.org gives instructions on how to safety introduce your cat to the outdoors, stating ‘your cat may want to explore.’

Well, of course they do! They’re a cat! It’s like telling a human they may want to walk. Here’s the thing: animals are high-wired to do what they want, not what they should. Because in the wild, the things they want is to find food and hunt, which helps them to survive. A captive cat doesn’t need to do that, but they’ll still have that interest in the outdoors and the high-energy associated with it.

The biggest arguments I hear for letting cats outside it ‘it’s their nature’, ‘they deserve freedom’, ‘they need the exercise/stimulation’. This is true. Cat’s are living animals who are designed to expend energy, just like us. Exercise is essential to a pet’s health, and as a pet owner, it’s your job to make sure they’re getting what they need.

The problem is, if you’re doing this by letting your cat roam the neighborhood unsupervised, you’re doing it very wrong.

A cat wheel, recommended for owners of high-energy cats, like Bengals.

First, I’m before I list the many reasons to not let your cat outside, I’m going to list alternatives.

Number one - play

Did you buy a box of cat-toys for your new kitten? Did your new cat play with them a little bit and then loose interest playing by themselves? Purina recommends two 20minutes play sessions for your kitten every day. This time can change depending on your cat’s energy level. Obviously, a really active cat will need more, and an older cat may need less. You cant just dump a box of toys on the living room floor an expect your cat to keep itself busy all day like a toddler would, you have to engage with them!

Cat’s ‘play’ as an extension of their hunting instincts. They’re not doing it to pass the time, they’re doing it to learn and practice how to kill things. The key to productive play is thinking like prey. That long rope? Pretend it’s a snake. Grab that mouse toy and bounce it around in front of your cat like you think an actual mouse would move. Don’t poke or bonk your cats with they’re toys - its not encouraging their hunting instincts and may just make them annoyed and not want to play.

Aside from keeping them stimulated, playing with your cats every day can strengthen their bond to you. A happy and tired cat will have no interest in going outside. The amount of time you’d expect to play with/walk your dog is the same amount, maybe a little less, you should expect to spend on your cat. If you don’t have the time of day to take care of a dog, don’t get a cat.

Also, FYI, don’t use your hands as a toy, especially with kittens. A bad cat bite can put you in the hospital with a serious infection - even if your cat has lived indoors all it’s life. Using your hand to play instead of toys will teach kittens that your hand is in fact a toy. Good luck trying to pet them later.

Number Two - Cat furniture

Ever heard of puppy-proofing? Well, cat proofing is also a thing! If you want to take on the responsibility of owning a pet, be prepared to rearrange your entire house - and buy some new stuff. Cat’s are designed to climb and travel, so they may try to jump to to the tallest places in your house. Don’t want them up there? Consider getting a dog. Spray bottles and scolding may work, but unless you’re giving them an alternative to flex their muscles, it’ll only lead to behavioral problems down the road.

Cat walks are a fun and safe way to let your cat have the run of the house. Not only will it be fun for them, but it’ll make them feel safer. If you cat feels trapped, it may hide a lot of the time. This is especially important if you bring another cat into the house. One cat acting scared may invite the other cat to attack. Cat-walks give your cat the advantage to ‘oversee their kingdom’, and escape a situation that makes them uncomfortable.

But, I wouldn’t expect everyone to have this. If you rent your home, can’t afford this, or can’t build it yourself, it’s not an option. But you can be aware of how you arrange your furniture and shelves. If the cat’s gonna jump up on stuff, you might as well make sure it’s safe.

The bare minimum cat furniture you need (besides a litter box) are scratching posts. Even a declawed cat will want one, because they’re not just shedding nails - they’re marking their territory.

Most predators have a way of marking territory to keep invaders away. Cats do too, with a host of special glands. One of those is called an interdigital (inter-digital) gland located - you guessed it - between their toes, or digits. In the wild, when cats scratch on trees, they are rubbing that scent gland on the bark, to warn other cats this is their territory.

Your indoor cat probably won’t have to worry about invaders, but they will still want to use that gland. In their minds, your house is their territory that they must defend. This is why litter boxes are also important.

You may have seen pictures or videos of cats being trained to use and even flush toilets. It may be cute, but its actually not that great from a cat behavior standpoint. This article from The Dodo does a good job of explaining why NOT to potty-train your cat.

Don’t wanna deal with litter boxes? Get a dog! Because with cats, litter boxes are essential. Not only does it give your cat a place to do its business, but it allows them to exercise more of their natural behaviors. After all, ‘natural behaviors’ are the reason owners let their cats outside, right?

For every cat, there should be one litter box plus one extra. Two cats should have a total of 3 litter boxes, and so on. The boxes should be scooped once a day, with their litter changed about once a week - depending on specific needs. Sounds like a lot of work? Yeah - it is! Plus the smell of ammonia isn’t pleasant. If you don’t want to deal with this - Don’t. Get. A. Cat.

Naturally, people look for short cuts, like training their cat to use the toilet, or letting them outside to do its business. Hey, it works for dogs, don’t it? Well - cats aren’t dogs. They have different behavior. While you can count on that fence keeping your dog in your yard, your cat is going to parkour over that like nothing. While dogs will go anywhere they feel comfortable, cats have an instinct to bury their feces. According to Live Science, this helps them hide from other predators. Cats can be eaten by anything bigger than them, and they know it. It’s a behavior that gives them security. Think about it like having a lock on the bathroom door - in a public place. Would you be brave enough to go without it? Personally, I’d hold it until I got home. Cats probably feel the same way, so they’re going to want to find substrate that’s easy to bury stuff in - fresh soil in a flower bed, or little Jimmy’s sandbox.

This is also why toilet-training is a bad idea. It’s not a natural behavior for cats, and it denies their instincts to bury their waste and mark their territory. Also, what happens when your cat gets elderly or injured, and they can’t jump onto the seat for a few days?

Your Cat can still enjoy the outdoors.

Did you know they make cat leashes? That’s right, you can allow your cat to transverse the yard and neighborhood in safety! The downside of this is cat’s don’t tend to be as excited about walks as dogs do. When I bought a harness and leash for my cat, they plopped on their side and refused to move. I never got to take him on a walk.

If your cat is similarly lazy, that doesn’t mean its impossible, it just means training will be required. With the right balance of motivation and knowledge, a pet can be trained to do anything physically possible. Yes, it’s consistent work and slow progress, but exactly the thing a good pet owner should be willing to do. If your cat is staring out the window and practically running out the door, then they might not even need training. With a lease, you can prevent your cat from killing small animals, keep them from climbing too high in a tree, and keep them out of the street and away from possibly dangerous animals.

On that note, now may be a good time to list the reasons why NOT to let your cat outside! (Warning, this next section may contain intense images of blood, violence, and dead animals. Reader discretion is advised).

Parasites.

Hold onto your stomachs, everyone! We are not taking the gentle road.

When I say parasites, I’m not just talking about fleas and ticks - very common and very overlooked. There are worse things out there. Toxoplasma, for one. This parasite that causes flu-like symptoms sheds from cat feces, and it can be much worse for pregnant mothers (this is why your doctor recommends not cleaning a litter-box while pregnant). To make matters worse, its one of the most common parasites in the world, spreading by - don’t throw up on me - fecal-oral contact, which is exactly what it sounds like. A cat can host the parasite without any symptoms and spread to humans, and that’s not the only one.

Outdoor cats are much more likely to get parasites and harmful bacterial. This is because they consume wild animals harboring parasites, and they can pick up stuff from the environment. A squirrel could defecate somewhere that a cat walks, and later licks themselves to clean. Boom! Infected. Now, your outdoor cat could spread stuff like toxoplasma to your neighbors! There’s your neighbor, working in their flower garden, unaware your cat used it for the bathroom (and buried it). Ope, now she’s whipping her nose with her unwashed hand! Boom! Infected.

Want to learn something really crazy? Cat parasites have made their way to aquatic mammals!

This National Geographic Article gives more information on how the ‘Kitty Litter’ parasite has made it to marine whales and dolphins. This is due to feral and stray cats defecating near waterways that eventually wash out to the ocean. While cats and some terrestrial mammals can host the parasites with out any major symptoms, marine mammals are very different. They are the incorrect hosts for these parasites, and anyone who’s studies parasites (like me) knows, parasites in the wrong host is a recipe for disaster. AKA, death. And like many other species, our marine mammals are going through enough troubles right now.

If you keep your cat inside and use a litter box, there is still a risk of infection, but you’ve significally lowered the potential spread. I say, anyone you takes the responsibility of cleaning a cat box is a hero. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. You are doing your cat and your neighborhood a huge favor. I sincerely thank you. So, when you’re scooping or changing litter, wear gloves, wear a mask, don’t touch your face, and wash your hands thoroughly afterword's. Also, take note of the condition of your cats dropping. Sometimes, to can clearly see worms, or something may just not look right. Remember - as an owner, it’s your responsibility to monitor your pets health. If you see something that doesn’t look right, you can take them to the vet. You can’t do this if you let your cat outside to do there business in the garden a few houses down.

High Death Rate

For feral cats, lifespan is typically two years. 50% of kittens don’t survive their first couple of days. Cats are killed by anything from car collisions, poison, coyotes, raccoons, raptor birds, and other cats. Male cats constantly fight each other for territory and access to females.

This brings up an interesting question. If cat’s death rate is so high, how are there so many in every town? A couple reasons.

Cats have a lot of kittens - multiple litters within a year. Even if only 50% of those kittens survive, that’s a lot of cats that are ready to breed themselves not long after.

Another reason is artificial healthcare. What this means is people will feed, spay/neuter, or rescue injured animals, and then release them. Because of their cuteness, cat’s have a charisma advantage over native predators in a neighborhood like coyotes and raccoons. No one’s going to trap a coyote with a broken leg to take it to the vet. I know that if I hit a cat with my car, and it was still alive, I would definitely rush it to emergency care. Supplemental feeding goes hand-in-hand with this. When people see a large cat colony outside, they may want to leave food out for them to help them out. Cats will eat the food, but it won’t end there. You may end up attracting more cats to an area, increasing the population. But if you were to suddenly stop feeding them, the extra cats are going to starve. You have only provided the animals with limited extra resources. Also, more cats in an area may lead to more fighting amongst them.

Because cats have a high death rate, the population’s method of survival is putting out high numbers. Feral and stray cats are constantly competing for food and running from dangers, and the ones who can put up with the suffering the most survive. This is the reality of nature. Nature is not a garden of Eden with fairies dancing with deer. This is the brutality you are exposing your pet cat to when you let them wonder alone outside.

Cats Kill Stuff

Cats are one of the few animals that kill for fun. Its not that they’re sadistic - they’re instincts tell them to bat that thing that moves, and they’ll do it until the thing escapes or stops moving. People automatically think about birds and small mammals, but cats will also eat insects, amphibians, and reptiles.

Some people swear by this argument, and some people counter the argument by saying stuff like ‘yeah, but windows and windmills kill more birds!’. Really? That’s your argument? Can you imagine if we said that about serial killers? Oh, its not a big deal if Freddy killed a few woman, James over there has killed a lot more!

Like... okay, that’s not as bad, but... we should still do something about it.

Cats, windows, and windmills. Instead of looking at these as three separate problems that we can only solve one at a time, step back and look at the big picture. “Human-caused fatality.” An article from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Services talks about migratory bird fatality numbers and causes. You’ll see a handful of different causes, each with different solutions needed.

You can’t solve a problem by pointing your finger at someone and say “They’re doing it worse”. EVERYONE involved in the problem has to do their part and correct it. For example, window collisions with birds can be decreased by window stickers and ecologically-mindful building planning (not building tall things in high-traffic bird routes).

These small, decorative stickers can help prevent bird-strike deaths.

Another angle to combat the problem is reducing industrial-caused mortality. Open oil pits are a hazard to migratory birds, who land in and ingest the oily water as they migrate. The Migratory Bird Treaty Act hold companies who do not cover their ponds accountable for ‘preventable fatalities’. However, the Trump Administration recently attempted to roll back regulations like these, in order to increase profit of oil and gas companies. Contacting politicians and being a thoughtful voter can prevent policies like these, and save birds and wildlife.

Of course, cat owners can put their foot forwards to help save wildlife life by keeping their pets inside or on a leash. People argue ‘cat’s are natural hunters. So what if they kill a few birds?’. Okay, well, first of all, if you look carefully at the stats, its clearly not just ‘a few birds’. Second, do you know what kinds of birds? No? I don’t either. In fact, we have no control what kind of bird/reptile/mammal your cat will kill. They kill whatever they can catch. This includes endangered species.

This website lists North America’s Endangered Animals. Notice that some of these animals are large mammals, like cougars. But most of the species are small animals that cats are capable of catching and killing. And cats don’t care if a species is endangered. Now, I’m confident that NONE of these species are threatened by cats alone. That’s not how nature works, it takes more than one factor to wipe out a species. Species like the Yellow-legged Mountain Frog are threatened by predation, disease, habitat fragmentation, and climate change (which can make diseases and parasite spread worse). A road through a wetland may not look like a big deal, but that may as well be a ocean for small amphibians and reptiles to cross.

Not only do these animals risk getting crushed by pedestrians and vehicles, but they have no cover from predators - and predators WILL exploit these places. Keep in mind, these animals can’t always just pack up and go - they need specific resources for food, shelter, and reproduction. Some turtles will nest in the gravel of a road because it provides the best substrate for digging a nest. This includes suburban areas - where your cats are waiting. When you add exotic animal predation pressure to a species already suffering from diseases and habitat loss, well - that’s how we lost the passenger pigeon.

In conclusion, please find ways to keep your cat healthy and happy without allowing them to roam unsupervised outside. There are programs that help remove feral colonies using live animal traps, but there are others, like places in Australia, that use lethal means. I don’t like the idea of killing cats. After all - they are adorable, and it’s not they’re fault they are there. That’s purely our fault for releasing out domestic cats into delicate ecosystems. As much as I love cats, I prioritize the health of our ecosystems and environment more, and that calls for removing large feral cat colonies. A few random barn cats of course is no problem, but the thousands of cats living in suburb yards needs to be reigned in. Whether it is done with live traps or kill traps is dependent on the people. One thing is for sure - if we don’t take responsibility for our exotic invasives, we will be paying for it for a long time in the future.

Sources

nola.com

American humane society

Caticles

US Fish and Wildlife Services

#biology #cats #feral cats #exotic animals #pets #pet owners #ecology #enviroment #parasites #endangered species

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yakumtsaki · 4 years

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Welcome, dear readers, to Part 2 out of 3 of the Union Comeback Season Premiere Episode (title under construction, part 1 here). Right off the bat, let me just admit what everyone is thinking, yes, mass-deleting default replacements was clearly a huge mistake. Looking good in the heart boxers, boys, especially Jojo! Very on brand and not at all ridiculous. On a lesser but equally annoying note, our windows have suddenly turned red while the exterior AND interior of the house are purple. Dark days ahead..

..but not for Goro, who has returned home since running away and is immediately being kicked out again. Good to see you Goro, now pack up your shit, D’vorah won the cat heir position so it’s time for you to move to Melody and Daniel’s farm.

-Well I’m a cat so I don’t have any possessions to pack.

Thank you for providing an example of why you lost the cat heirship via this painfully boring reaction to the news of your defeat.

-No, he’s right, we cats don’t have any possessions to pack.

Omg D’vorah shut up. How on earth you boring flops are Alegra/Ronroneo’s grandchildren AND Sophie’s children I’ll never understand. I’m this close to making Maxx the cat heir and he’s not even a cat.

-Correct, I’m a dog.

Worst group of pets e v e r.

Oh look who autonomously woohooed for the first time in a century, I guess those base game heart boxers were simply too hot to resist. If one of you gets knocked up a week away from elderhood I’m gonna have a meltdown the likes of which the world has never seen.

-For the love of God, can we get some privacy here?

I’d love nothing more than to give you two bozos eternal privacy by never looking at either of you again, but the headmaster is here for Wulf so put some clothes on-

-WHAT THE FUCK. Why do we keep getting new headmasters instead of the ones we’ve already terrorized into submission?? Now we have to ‘show BJ a good time’ and ‘maybe we could give BJ a tour’, I’d honestly rather give BJ a bj and get this shit over with, I’m tired of threatening headmasters with murder. Hopefully it doesn’t come to sexual favors but if it does, Wyatt, you’re up.

-Pourquoi moi???

Pourquoi toi still haven’t gotten promoted and toi sleep 22 hours a day, it’s high time toi pulled your weight around here.

Good, that’s the spirit.

-Bonjour, monsieur Headmastér! I wòuld introdûce yoù to Wûlf but hé is très busý with unpàid çhild labόr.

-Haha, what a hilarious joke, Mr. Union!

-Alright Cinderello, after you’re done cleaning the flooding shower you’re going to need to jump out the second floor window and go study in the crypt, so the headmaster doesn’t see you and ask you any uncomfortable questions about whether I acknowledge you as my son. I have to go help your father charm our guest by giving my trademarked speech on how I never got impregnated by aliens and what a blow it was to humanity’s future.

-Ok Mr. Jojo!

-For the last time Wulf, it’s not ‘Mr. Jojo’, it’s ‘Mr. Union’. God.

-Ah hello there Headmaster BJ, apologies for my lateness, I was tucking little Wulf in bed because I definitely acknowledge him as my son. As I do all 3 of my children and not just Cyneswith. Ask anyone! But not Wulf or whatshername.. I want to say Shenar? Anyway, now that that’s been cleared up, what are we talking about here? The fact I never got impregnated by aliens and what a terrible blow it was to humanity’s future? I assumed as much.

-Haha aliens?! Well you are just a family of crack ups, does your son share this amazing sense of humor?

-Oh yes yes he definitely does, and he is definitely OUR son, that’s exactly how I view him as well, not solely as Wyatt’s offspring just because he appears to not have a drop of my DNA. I mean who even cares about that? Not me, that’s for certain. Yes, Wulf was just telling me the funniest joke while I was reading Cinderella to him before I put him to bed-

-Man, it’s so hard to concentrate on math with a broken leg from jumping out the window and Grandpa’s disembodied head floating around.

Grandpa’s disembodied head??

OH FUCK KOMEI

-What?

Nothing! Looking good! The decision to delete default replacements didn’t affect you in any way!

-Thank god, have you seen Vic with that base game hair? Talk about scary.

Yes, talk about scary indeed. Do you happen to know if the matchmaker performs the occasional exorcism?

-No idea.

Well she hates me anyway so that was solution was dead in the water. I have to go back to the headmaster fuckery now, but I want you to know I’m really sorry for what Salome did to you.

-Sό, monsieur Headmastér, the όnly tràck reçord which est bettér than the όne we havé with bébés wόrking, est the oné we havé with our animàls rûnning awaý!

-Oh my.

-He’s joking, he’s joking Headmaster BJ, we’re both excellent pet owners and excellent parents, if you’ll excuse me the phone is ringing-

-Cyneswith darling! An adult bartender is calling for you and he has the Komei face! You might be 14 but he’s clearly future husband material!

-Be right there, daddy!

-Alright, I think I’ve seen enough here.

No you haven’t! Wyatt, take off your robe!

-No need, I’ve made up my mind..

-..you’re obviously a perfect match for our school!

What the hell? How? Even by our standards we legit didn’t do shit.

-Headmaster Jitmakusol left a very distraught letter regarding your family before he was institutionalized, the gist of it being it is pointless to try and keep you people out of the school, and his successor should simply ‘roll with it’.

Well ok then! Pleasure doing business with you, BJ.

-The pleasure was all mine, please don’t ever contact me again.

We’ll make sure to be in touch.

In the meantime, Komei has recovered his body!

-Why me? WHY ALWAYS ME? CYNESWITH IS RIGHT THERE

-Sorry honey, we play poker for it every night and Victor won dibs on Cyneswith.

-That’s right, the first one to scare everyone gets ghost-bingo!

Are you fuckers playing ghost-poker or ghost-bingo?

-It’s a hybrid, we have a lot of time on our hands, being dead and all, so we developed an overcomplicated gambling system for our scares.

Yea ok congrats Victor, now can you fuck off before you actually do kill one of the kids?? They have 10/10/9 energy, they literally never sleep.

-No can do, if you actually kill someone you get Yahtzee!

How many fucking games are involved in this bullshit?

-We told you, we have a lot of time on our hands. SUCK IT VICTOR, I WIN FOR THE NIGHT

Win for the night? Who cares about that, you have Wyatt cornered, go for the Yahtzee!

-Oh, but you said our games were bullshit!

That’s before I realized Wyatt was awake for his allotted 2 hours per day non-sleeping time. Wyatt istfg bro, are you half French-Arab and half panda?

-Pandàs eàt for 14 hourès idiόt, ne pas slèèp.

Well look who knows a suspicious amount about pandas now! Almost like he’s descended from them.

Oh good, everyone’s favorite couple simultaneously has the day off. How about I take you two out for a nice date at Londoste since you’re about 55 years old?

-How about hard pass on that architectural monstrosity of a restaurant and we hang out for 6 hours in our front yard instead?

-Oui, oui! Très blanc garbagè of us!

Well at least we’re not forgetting our roots.

Alright then, we’ve crossed into white trash territory unironically with the yard pda and we’re also freezing to death, how about we take this inside?

-Non!

-Yes, non indeed! I love how frozen your hands are, dear, it’s like you’re a real corpse!

Oh my G-

-Catch me, Creature!

-Je t'aime, dr. Frankènstèin!

Ok, new suggestion, how about instead of going inside we visit a nice church?

-How abοùt you lôôk awày, pervertir!

Bold words from someone doing Frankenstein roleplay, and I’D LOVE TO, but the kids are at school and the animals are sleeping, so there’s no looking away from whatever the fuck this is.

Oh thank god, Cyneswith is back from school and ready to cockblock her parents as always. First time I’m genuinely happy to see you, Cyn.

-Straight A’s again! Ah, we may only have one child but she is THE BEST. Wyatt dear, come here to congratulate Cyneswith and further inflate her ego. Wyatt?

-Why is he ignoring my straight A’s, daddy?!

-Ugh, he’s probably jealous since everyone is jealous of you, darling. Pay him no mind, let’s go inside so I can give you the diamond tiara I got you for your birthday.

-But my birthday is in four months, what will you get me then?

-A throne to go with it and anything you want from Sihara’s and the other one’s rooms?

-They have no rooms, remember? They both sleep in the crypt.

-Right, well how about I act like I got them presents, give them to you and make them watch as you unwrap them?

-Aw daddy💗

-Je ne pas fèèl bien..

Yes, you’re dying, so it’d be some real Frankenstein shit if you did feel bien.

Is this Komei-clone bartender serious, first he calls while the headmaster is over, now he calls while we’re dying, FEEL THE FUCKING ROOM PAL

..and there we go. RIP Wyatt, it’s been sorta ok having you in the fami-

-WTF HOW ARE YOU ALIVE

-HA. I lièd, I AM hàlf pandà and mon beàr gènes protéct moi!

GODDAMMIT I KNEW IT. Is that why the one child you gave birth to is your exact clone?

-Oui! Wulf est 1/4 pandà, et toi wènt et namèd him WULF.

Well, to be fair, not a lot of famous pandas I could have named him after even if I knew.

-Toi çould hàve namèd him Pandà!

Oh man, Panda Union does have a nice ring to it, especially next to the other names.. ~Shajar~, ~Cyneswith~ and PANDA. Thanks a lot for depriving me of the opportunity by withholding your genetic info.

-Je think Wulf est ontό it..

Onto the fact he’s 1/4 panda? I highly doubt that.

Yea nevermind, he knows.

Oh great, Shajar has brought yet another uggo with a culturally appropriative hairstyle home from school.

-That’s what you get for letting her out of the crypt.

Give it a rest, Jojo, we’ve had enough of your incredible parenting to last us 10 lifetimes at this point.

-And then it goes: I send the thunder from the sky, I send the fire raining down, I send a hail of burning ice, on every field, on every town! I send the locusts on a wind, such as the world has never seen, on every leaf, on every stalk, until there's nothing left of green! I send my scourge, I send my sword, THUS SAITH THE LORD🎵

-Great, thank you, Shajar, for singing the entirety of the ‘10 Plagues’ song from The Prince of Egypt 27 times. I’m really sorry but I have to go home now-

-It-was-nice-to-meet-you noogie!

..Shajar, please, PLEASE see a doctor.

-My sister Shajar may be super popular, spoiled and beloved-

WHAT LMAO

-but I have the friendship of animals and that’s all that matters!

Yea, Cyn, no offense, but it feels like you’re trying to cultivate an underdog Disney princess persona for yourself that is the exact opposite of actual family dynamics around here.

-What makes you say that?

Your tiara and throne vs Shajar sleeping in the crypt come to mind.

-So to be an underdog you need to be a loser?

I mean narrative-wise kinda, yea.

-Message received.

No, no that wasn’t a message-

-Yes it was and I got you, loud and clear.

Oh god.

-WHAT? YOU’RE REJECTING ME BECAUSE I’M TOO PRETTY? MY HEART IS BROKEN! I DON’T THINK I’LL EVER GET OVER THIS

-Uh, who are you again? Shajar invited me over, ordered a pizza and has been hiding in the bushes for 1 hour waiting to noogie the delivery guy.

-I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT I’M HEARING! I HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO SING ABOUT THIS IN AN ENCHANTED FOREST FOR ABOUT 3 AND A HALF MINUTES

Jfc, where are the ghosts when you need them.

-Mommy has dibs on you tonight, Jojo!

-Mom please no! Your hair is so damn hideous! Just stay in your urn until the default replacement has been put back!

-Ah excellent, I have upgraded my robotic abilities up to cleanbot level!

That actually is excellent, I really want us to fire Kaylynn.

-Cleanbots don’t change cat litter.

..UGH then why even bother, Jojo? The cat shit is 90% of our problems, make something that fixes that or stop wasting airtime with your nonsense. Istg some people.

-Alright sis, how about we go out again tonight and ~play the field~? If I get rejected by a couple more mean boys I can earn my underdog princess badge!

-You are so stupid, Cyneswith, if you want to earn your underdog badge all you need to do is board a doomed ship, Titanic style, and then give the floating door to someone you’ve known for a couple of days while you selflessly and pointlessly drown in the freezing ocean despite the fact you could take turns sharing the door.

-But then I would be dead.

-I know right? Everybody wins. Let’s go get you some tickets.

Yea, let’s not, but let’s get out of here because the ghosts are out of fucking control and you two aren’t sleeping anytime soon.

-Shaj-and-Cyn-in-da-club noogie!

Shajar FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, ENOUGH.

OMG IT’S SOPHIE MIGUEL. SOPHIE MIGUEL IN THE HOUSE

-Whaddup dildos, ‘tis I, Sophie fucking Miguel, the meanest townie teen there is. I’ve only taken 4 steps into this place and I can already tell I’m surrounded by a bunch of beta turbocucks.

SHAJAR GO TALK TO HER!!!!!

-HEY BITCH, I’M NOT A BETA TURBOCUCK, I’M ALPHA AS FUCK. I’M NAMED AFTER SHAJAR AL-DURR! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO THAT IS?

SHAJ WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, WHAT IS THIS APPROACH

-Of course I do, the first Mamluk Sultana of Egypt. Nice.

OMG THAT SHIT WORKED. LAND THE PLANE SHAJ

-Ohhhhhhhh😍 Do you want to talk some more?? Do you like the 10 Plagues song from the Prince of Egypt???

-Nop, as suddenly as I came into your life, I’m dramatically getting the fuck out for no discernible reason, cause that’s just how I roll. Gone with the wind, baby! I’m like an outdoor cat. You’ll never see me again.

-Oh but I will..

YES YOU WILL SHAJ. I’m so on board this particular Titanicesque crackship that it’s un.real. I mean Sophie Miguel literally came into this place, talked to Shajar for less than one minute and then left the bar entirely, in turn leaving us dick in hand. What.an.icon.

In the meantime Cyneswith.. did this. Game-changing night for everyone!

#gen 2 #ts2

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thepropertylovers · 4 years

Text

Feature Friday with Michael Powers

Happy Friday, friends. It’s been a pretty awful week, hasn’t it? From the tornadoes that devastated Nashville (click here to help those affected) and with Super Tuesday, it seems like a rough couple of days for pretty much everyone.

Today’s Feature Friday is Mark, who lives in Stockholm with his husband. Here he shares his biggest inspiration, what it was like growing up, at one point, in a “blokey” environment, and how his mother took it when he came out to her (hint: it gave us chills in the best possible way). We enjoyed getting to know Mark, and we think you will, too. See what we mean below…

On an Australian upbringing: Growing up down under definitely shaped me in a positive way, I learned to ride horses and motor bikes and go hunting. But, I also got to dance and sing and act and appreciate the unique landscapes that you can’t find anywhere else in the world. I grew up in a masculine environment where you were expected to act a certain way. But I learned a lot about what I’m capable of and now I never say no to an experience.

I grew up in various states of Australia, Victoria, Northern Territory and Queensland. When I was growing up all three states were in various ways conservative. The Northern Territory, primarily is quite a small city, Darwin. It’s here that in my mind was the most conservative, the city is so small but also very blokey (masc) and I was this semi-feminine gay boy and obviously that was a complete secret.

On the freedom of Amsterdam: The freedom there is so enveloping. There’s no fear of being who you are, interested in what you’re interested in or anything like that. The history spans back centuries and is one of the most iconic places I’ve ever been.

On an interesting fact: I used to be a dancer, up until I broke my back. Ballet was such a passion.

On his favorite part about himself: My smile, I think you can tell a lot about a person about how they smile.

On what brings him joy in life: My family - husband and dog. They just get me and their happiness brings happiness to me. And my photography.

On coming out: [I was] 14, and it was a horrendous experience. I was bullied my entire life by “friends” and “family”. I was sitting on top of a building prepared to end it all when my mum joined me. She was distraught but sat down beside me and just hugged me. She told me it was okay, nothing would ever stop her loving me. And then in that moment was when I told her I was gay, when I came out she was the literal best mother. Other family members took it less well and just by association meant that they must also be gay.

On moving and learning to be himself: When I moved interstate to Queensland I learned to love myself for me and was happy being myself and no amount of bullying would stop me being true to myself. I learned really quickly who to tell and those people are still some of my closest friends even across the globe. I certainly lost the love of family, the religious ones and to me that felt okay. I just didn’t understand how someone they’ve never met could hate someone that’s never met me either. My step father, a military raised man took it the hardest. He expected a lot from me and being gay didn’t fit that mold.

On an important self-discovery: I learned that I’m resilient. I’m strong willed and completely capable of anything. I also learned to trust my opinions, my gut feelings about people.

On his biggest inspiration: Sam smith. He’s content being him, his voice is powerful and he oozes confidence, body and mental.

On looking ahead: I want the vanilla things, kids and a house with a yard. A room full of books and having my novels published.

On advice to today’s LGBTQ+ youth: If you feel fear that is completely instinctual about the safety of your life then you get on a bus and get the f@*k out, call a friend or family member and ask to stay with them. Feeling afraid of being yourself is totally normal. Just remember you choose when you’re ready. Also, our community is there for you. Reach out and someone will help you. You are normal, beautiful and you are fierce.

You are not alone. You are resilient and you will persevere through the tumultuous wave that is life. But mostly teach even if you aren’t a teacher. Teach others about tolerance and acceptance. Just be you and remember that we’ve all been that scared little boy trying so hard not to let what’s inside show.

Thank you so much, Mark! You can follow him on Instagram here. Hope you have a beautiful weekend, friends! xx

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mj-spooks · 4 years

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hi! i saw ur soapbox cat post from earlier and i just wanted to ask how dog door can cause cats to develop heart problems? i have a cat and, unfortunately, since i’m currently living with my mom and we have a dog door +she refuses to let me have him as an indoor only cat despite my best efforts. i try and save anything i see him hurt but there’s obviously stuff i can’t catch and i really just wanna keep him and everything else safe from him

In our case, the cat got into a lot of fights with local animals (mostly this fuckall big possum that thought it owned the alley behind our house) and would get infections a lot. The constant infections weakened his immune system in general, as well as his health in general, including his heart. It wasn’t as strong as it should have been, and eventually gave out. He was the first of those cats to go. Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t a young cat really, but again, his mother is still alive and kicking, and she basically never goes outside at all. He died... probably around 8 years ago?

Unfortunately people, esp older people, can be very stubborn about these things because it’s what they’re used to and they don’t see a problem. If your cat has a tendency to get into fights, it might be a concern. Our cat was very much the king of pride rock, so to speak, and was defending his territory. The others didn’t have those problems because they didn’t pick on things bigger than they were and lived 3+ years longer than he did.

The other concerns are mostly the cat getting run over or eating/drinking stuff that will harm it. Another sad reality is that a lot of people don’t... really... care about cats? even the same way they do about dogs. Like, I’ve known people who will freak out if someone drops an M&M on the floor with a dog in the room, but the idea of a cat having access to Literally Everything Outside doesn’t concern them.

I would try to talk to your mom about the risks inherent with the cat being outside, but don’t be surprised if it doesn’t change her mind. Especially if she has reasons for not wanting the cat to be indoors all the time, like not wanting to worry about a litterbox (a common excuse I hear). I would just be diligent about keeping an eye on him, watching for signs of illness or injury, and trying to keep him inside as much as possible.

You can try discouraging him from going outside, there are a few sites with recommendations on how to do this. A sneaky way (that your mother might not notice) can be to use citrus scented oils or sprays near the access point, since cats don’t like these scents and will usually avoid them (I spray my Christmas tree with diluted orange oil every year and it keeps my cats out of it, and we all know how much cats loooove getting in Christmas trees). You might also try having designated times you take the cat into the yard yourself. My cats don’t care about going outside partially because I take them into our backyard for a half-hour or so a few times a week.

#cat care #please note i'm not a vet or an animal tech or anything #I've just owned a fuckton of cats #I research caring for my kitties because I love them #I would suggest contacting professionals if anything seems wrong with dear kitty #also best of luck trying to convince your mom

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warriorsfireandwater · 5 years

Text

Chapter One

A breeze ruffled Rusty’s ginger pelt, shaking the branches of the trees above. It was very dark, but Rusty could sense something was near. The young tom’s eyes opened wide as he scanned the dense undergrowth, and he parted his jaws to scent the air. This place was unfamiliar, but the strange scents drew him onward, deeper into the shadows. Musty leaf and moss-scent coated his tongue, mingling teasingly with the scent of a small warm-blooded creature. His whiskers quivered in anticipation and excitement.

The undergrowth ahead rustled, and Rusty spotted a tiny flash of gray. Rusty froze, ears pricked as he listened to the critter’s shuffling. It seemed oblivious to his presence.

Rusty instinctively dropped into a crouch, swiping his tongue over his lips as his belly rumbled, reminding him of his hunger. With one final check on the mouse’s location, Rusty grinned and pushed off the ground in a mighty leap. He cleared the distance and scattered leaves with his paws as he pounced on the critter.

The mouse let out a squeak and slipped through his paws—but Rusty was too fast! He shot out a paw, scooping the mouse off the ground and sending it flying into the air. He wriggled his haunches, prepared to trap the dazed rodent as it hit the ground—

But then a loud, clanging noise shook the forest, and the mouse squeaked again and raced back into the undergrowth. Rusty’s ears pricked up, and he swung his head around to find the source of the oddly familiar sound.

With a blink, the forest around him disappeared, and he awoke to find himself in his housefolk’s den. The clatter was the sound of one of the humans pouring pellets into his food bowl. Rusty rolled onto his belly, parting his jaws in a wide yawn as he tried to savor the remnants of the dream. He scratched at his neck with a hind leg, knocking a paw against his tight collar. The bell tinkled as he did so, and it was only a further reminder of how the dream had been just that—a dream. In his sleep, he'd been able to feel that soft breeze against his neck fur, and he'd felt free. This was the third time he’d dreamed of that infernal mouse. It would always just manage to escape his claws.

Rusty sighed a little as he rose from his soft bed, taking a moment to stretch each limb. His housefolk called something to him as he padded by, and she pointed at the bowl. Humans always seemed to either have dull senses or dull minds— of course Rusty knew the food was there! As he gazed into the metallic bowl, he frowned. He was hungry, but wasn’t in the mood for dry pellets. With a sigh, he crouched and took a few bites to satisfy his housefolk.

Dawn sunlight filtered in through the windows, warming his fiery pelt. Perhaps robins would be out picking worms. He licked his lips at the thought of a warm, juicy robin—they were work to catch, for sure, but much more satisfying than the dry food he could eat at his leisure. (Of course, Rusty had only managed to catch one once, when it had flown into a window and dazed itself, but he would never admit it to his friends.)

Rusty turned away from the bowl and headed towards the catflap that allowed him to go out into the yard. He pushed through the flimsy thing, then shook out his pelt in the sun. The grass was still wet with morning dew, and he felt the urge to have a good roll in it.

A friendly call halted him. “Howdy, Rusty!” The ginger tom looked up to see his friend, Smudge, perched on the top of his fence. “Whatcha gettin’ up to?” The fat young cat hopped down and landed sloppily, resulting in a purr from Rusty.

“Not sure,” he laughed. Rusty glanced at another shorter fence ahead of him. Forest scents wafted through on the slight breeze, carrying the same leaf mold and mossy scents. He was sure there’d be real mice out there, fat on forest vegetation and seeds. He stepped forward towards it, raising a paw tentatively as he approached. “I think I want to go take a look in the forest.”

Smudge’s eyes widened in horror. “No—don’t go out there! Henry went out there once, and he said there’s wildcats as big as dogs!”

Rusty rolled his eyes. “That fat tabby never went anywhere! He probably stared at it from his fence and started daydreaming.” He frowned. “Maybe he did once, but certainly not since his trip to the vet. Now all he does is eat, sleep, and roll around in the sun.”

“He did, though!” Smudge protested. “He caught a robin there and showed it to me!”

Rusty knew that there was a robin’s nest in Henry’s yard, and that the baby birds had a tendency to fall out of it, but he kept that thought private. “Either way, he just complains about birds now for disturbing his sleep.”

Smudge puffed up dramatically. “But still—there’s mean wildcats out there! I heard they eat cats like us for snacks! Snacks, Rusty! Henry even said those cats eat bones, you know!”

Rusty shrugged. “I’ll just go for a look,” he assured his friend. “I won’t go too far—I’ll keep the fence in sight! I just want to see what it’s like. Perhaps I’ll even catch something.”

Smudge frowned, looking uncomfortable, but nodded. “Okay,” he sighed. “Be safe.” he brightened after a moment. “And if you do catch anything, you better share, you greedy pigeon!”

Rusty chuckled. “Greedy pigeon yourself! You eat more than I do!” He turned away and leaped up the fence, feeling satisfied that he could balance much better than his friend. He stared at the forest treeline for a moment, hesitating. What if there were fierce wildcats out there? Shaking his head, he leaped down. Rusty, you’re getting as gullible as Smudge, he thought, as he landed on the soft grass. He remained still for a few long moments, savoring the view of the thick forest ahead of him.

A rustle of ferns caught his attention. A sandy-brown little creature caught his attention—a real mouse. Instinctively, Rusty lowered himself into a crouch. This one will be my breakfast! He took slow, quiet steps forward as he approached the mouse. The mouse sat up, nibbling on a seed. Rusty felt a rush of adrenaline as he waggled his haunches. His bell hadn’t made a sound, either. Today must be his lucky day.

There was a louder, more prominent rustling farther into the bushes, just into the trees. The mouse blinked and shot away, gone for good. Rusty sat back on his haunches with a frustrated huff. He blinked, confused, as the rustling grew louder. He rose again, craning his neck to try and spot the source of the sound. Something was in the bushes—larger prey, perhaps? He’d heard that wild rabbits lived out here, too. Rusty couldn’t resist creeping closer, hungry belly urging him on.

The rustling was slowly moving further into the trees. Rusty narrowed his eyes.

Whatever creature was in the undergrowth whipped around and started crashing towards him. The creature flew out of the bushes and slammed into him like a stone, throwing him right off his paws. Rusty yowled with surprise as he crashed to the ground.

Rusty rolled across the earth before he managed to regain his footing. Whirling around upon his attacker, he saw that his opponent was another kitten—gray with a thick pelt, with a strong stance for one so young. As he turned, the gray kitten charged, crashing into him at full speed. Both young cats fell back, tumbling to the ground. As they tussled for a moment, Rusty boxed him hard over the ears, and caught him across the jaw with his other flailing paw. The stranger jumped back, shaking his head. Rusty leaped to his paws, prepared to pounce on the kitten, but stopped as the gray tom simply sat up and licked a paw. Rusty was oddly disappointed by the sudden loss of aggression—he had been filled with adrenaline, prepared to fight fiercely.

“Huh!” The gray kitten huffed good-naturedly. “You put up a fight for a tame kittypet!”

Kittypet? Rusty blinked. His back was still arched as he tried to intimidate the tom, but as he remembered the strength in the tom’s attack, he relaxed himself. “I’ll fight you again if I have to,” he growled.

“I’m Graypaw, by the way,” The gray tom meowed as though he hadn’t heard Rusty’s threat. “I’m training to be a ThunderClan warrior.”

Rusty didn’t reply. He had no idea what Graypaw—what an odd name!—was yammering about, but he didn’t much feel like fighting him again. He could tell, however, that there was no threat in the kitten anymore. He licked his chest fur, trying to appear at ease. “What's a kittypet?” he asked, ears flat.

“A cat that lives with humans. Duh,” the tom said, as though that should have been obvious. “What’s a kittypet like you doing in the woods?” Graypaw asked, drawing his paw over his ears. “In ThunderClan territory, no less. Don’t you know it’s dangerous?”

Rusty snorted, sitting down. “If you’re the most dangerous thing the forest has to offer, I think I could handle myself just fine.”

Graypaw chuckled. “Oh, I’m not the most dangerous. I’m just in training—one of our warriors could take you and me both with ease, and dealt with another few cats for good measure! If I were even half a warrior, I’d have given an intruder like you some real wounds.”

Rusty fell a little rush of fear at the word ‘intruder’. What did he mean by that? He was only checking out the woods past his fence!

“Anyway,” Graypaw went on, giving his chest fur a good lick. “Didn’t seem worth giving you any scratches. You’re obviously not from the other Clans. I don't know kittypet smell, but your collar makes it obvious.”

“Other Clans?” Rusty echoed, confused by everything Graypaw was saying. He’s so weird!

Graypaw let out an impatient hiss. “You must have heard of the four Clans that live out here! I told you already, I come from ThunderClan—the best there is, I’ll have you know—but the others are always trying to steal our prey and land. Especially ShadowClan! They’re the worst, and they certainly would’ve whooped an untrained kittypet like you.” He puffed out his chest and lifted his chin. “Not that my Clan’s warriors can’t handle them.”

Rusty narrowed his eyes. This must be what Smudge meant by ‘wildcats’. From the sound of it, they were greedy for every morsel of meat in the forest! Why don’t they just work together? Rusty thought sourly. There’d be no silly fights then, right? Either way, he had to admit, he admired the tom. Life must be rough, fighting for prey and land every day. Exciting, but rough. “So you’re not a warrior yet?” he asked. He wasn't sure he really understood this ‘warrior’ business, but it sounded interesting enough. Just wait until Smudge hears I fought one of the wildcats.

“Why? Did you think I was?” Graypaw purred proudly, before shaking his wide, furry head. “I won’t be a real warrior for moons. I have to go through the training first. Kits have to be six moons old before they even begin training. I've only been an apprentice for a half a moon.”

“Why don’t you just find yourself a housefolk and a nice den? Your life would be much easier,” Rusty meowed. “There are plenty of humans who’d take in a kitten like you. All you have to do is sit where they can see you and look friendly—”

“And they’d feed me pellets that look like rabbit droppings and soft slop!” Graypaw interrupted harshly, demeanor changing in a heartbeat. “No way! I can’t think of anything worse than being a kittypet! They’re nothing but Twoleg toys! Cooped up in those odd barns, fat on crow-food? That’s no life! Out here, we’re free.” He grinned proudly. “You’ve never lived ‘till you’ve ran through the forest with your clanmates and tasted a fresh-caught prey.”

Graypaw frowned at him after his speech. “You wouldn’t understand. You have to be born wild to know what it’s like. To tame kittypets like you, the forest is just one big adventure before you head back to your warm dens and full bowls of crow-food.” He shrugged. “You have to be born a warrior to understand the feeling of having strong warrior blood in your veins or feeling the wind in your whiskers.”

How rude! Rusty bristled as he thought of his dreams. He wanted something more than what his house had to offer—even if he didn't know what exactly it was that he wanted. “That’s not all true!”

Graypaw didn’t reply, but after a moment, stiffened. “Oh, no. I smell my Clanmates. Quick, run! They’ll shred you soon as look at you.”

Rusty froze fearfully. He wasn’t sure how Graypaw knew such a thing—he couldn’t smell anything out of the ordinary, but he could tell from the startled expression and bristling fur that Graypaw was very, very worried. He prepared to spring away, but he had no idea where Graypaw’s ‘Clanmates’ were coming from. Looking around, he realized they had also rolled too far into the trees for him to see the fence—Rusty was lost already.

It was too late. A voice startled him from behind, deep and gravelly. “What’s going on here?”

Rusty turned around to see a massive gray-and-white tom strolling towards them. The tom’s white-mottled face was riddled with nicks and small scars, and his harsh amber gaze seemed to bore right through Rusty. His huge paws crushed the grass beneath them, and Rusty felt minuscule in front of him.

“Thistlestar!” A handsome golden tom followed close behind, thick chest fur much like a mane. “Wait up, will you—wait, what’s this?” He frowned down at Rusty, nearly as large as the darker tom beside him. He glared at Graypaw. “You shouldn’t be so close to the town, Graypaw!”

“I’m sorry, Lionheart,” Graypaw murmured, crouching low and tucking his tail beneath him. Rusty felt he should do the same, and he was filled with fear at the sight of the massive toms in front of him.

“Just who is this?” The gray tom rumbled, lip curling. “Gossiping with a kittypet, are you?”

“He’s not a threat!” Graypaw insisted, gaze flickering nervously from Rusty to Thistlestar. “Just a silly twoleg pet that’s lost.”

“You know how we treat twoleg pets, Graypaw,” Thistlestar growled, unsheathing his claws. He looked back at Rusty. “You may have fought well for an untrained kittypet—” He spat the word like it was venom. “—but you have no place in the forest. You did well to attack him, Graypaw, but you should have given him a few more scratches to remember us by.” He snarled. “Leave, little kitty.”

Rusty couldn’t help but feel indignant, despite his fear of the angry tom. He was causing no harm! “Why should I?” he challenged. “I’m not doing anything wrong! I only wanted to catch a mouse or two and I’d be on my way. Surely you can spare.”

The outraged snarl that erupted from Thistlestar told him that Rusty had said the wrong thing. “You little worm,” he spat. “You dare challenge me?” He drew himself even taller than he was before, and Rusty swallowed. “I am Thistlestar, leader of ThunderClan,” he said. “And you’ve made your final mistake coming here.”

Before Rusty knew what was happening, he was clobbered over the head with a hefty paw, and unsheathed claws tore through Rusty’s ear. He yowled in pain and surprise as he tumbled onto his back. Graypaw gasped, and Lionheart took a step back, looking uncomfortable. “Thistlestar, he is only a kit, and the Code—”

“The Code says that a leader’s word is law, Lionheart,” Thistlestar hissed. “And I say this insolent rat dies today.”

Rusty tried to stand as the massive tom padded closer, curling claws unsheathed. He was filled with dread as he glanced at Graypaw, who was backing away and shaking his head. I can’t die, Rusty thought, cowering miserably. Not like this!

#warrior cats #wc #warrior cats rewrite #warrior cats au #riverclan fireheart #warriors: fire and water #chapter one

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prairiesongserial · 5 years

Text

5.6

The truck bounced and ambled its way down the dust-covered road, tossing its passengers gently from side to side like they were in a ship on a particularly stormy ocean. Cody’s stomach turned over, and he tore his gaze away from the window to look at John and Sailor, who shared the backseat with him.

“Are we sure about this?”

“No,” Sailor growled under her breath. She was hunched over in her seat, gently rubbing her leg where her knee joint met her new prosthetic. “It’s a bad plan. Not enough people, and not enough guns.”

“I thought that was kinda the point,” Nash said cheerfully, from the driver’s seat. “Y’all aren’t supposed to be attracting attention.”

“Nash, respectfully, you aren’t a part of this discussion unless you’re gonna be gettin’ out of the car to go with us,” Cody said, his voice flat.

He knew exactly what Nash’s orders were, unfortunately, and Nash wasn’t coming with him, John, and Sailor. According to what Marc had said that morning at brunch, Nash was coming along strictly as their getaway driver. If they didn’t come back to the rendezvous point within about an hour, Nash was allowed to head back to Texas Waters and leave the three of them high and dry. Cody, for one, had no doubt that he really would. Nash may have been affable enough, but at the end of the day, Marc was the one paying him for his services.

��Fair enough,” Nash said, with an easy shrug. “Your drop point’s comin’ up in a couple minutes, by the way.”

“Great,” Cody said through his teeth. John put a hand on his knee, gently, and he reached down to squeeze it. Having his own gesture returned muddled his thoughts about the whole interaction - he still wasn’t sure what he had been trying to communicate, back at breakfast. At least he could say for certain that John hadn’t minded. Cody refocused himself on the problem at hand, more agitated now than before. “I still don’t see why we have to split up.”

Their instructions were relatively straightforward, all things considered. Marc would be meeting with the heads of a local mob, in a town just across the Mexican border, under the pretense of making an alliance with them. Something about dividing up certain resources they each had access to for a mutual benefit. While the meeting was going on, John, Cody, and Sailor would be pulling off one of the double-crosses Marc was apparently notorious for - considering breakfast, that hadn’t been much of a surprise.

John, Cody, and Sailor were to steal the mob’s supply of water. The only catch was that the supply was kept in a compound located dead in the middle of a nest of muties. The mob didn’t have to spend the manpower guarding their most valuable resource if the muties kept people away for free, after all. All they had to do was guard one tunnel entrance. The mob members transported the water in barrels through a tunnel under the mesa, then raised it up on a lift. The barrels sat out in the open, the hundred-odd feral muties enough of a deterrent for any sane person.

The water heist, as Marc had devised it, was a two-pronged plan. Cody and Sailor would make their way up one side of the mesa, doing their best to go as quickly as possible while also disturbing as few muties as possible. At the same time, John would arrive at the guard station at the base of the mesa, dressed as one of the mob’s security men. While Cody and Sailor reached the compound from the top, John would take care of the guards patrolling the underground tunnel. If all went well, they’d meet as soon as Cody and Sailor took the lift down, then transport the barrels of water out through the tunnel to where Nash would be waiting in the truck.

It was a decent plan, in theory. But there were a lot of ways it could go wrong, and Cody hadn’t stopped thinking up more since they’d left Texas Waters. He was so nervous that he could practically feel the food he’d eaten at brunch rolling around in his stomach, threatening to come back up.

“You really want to fight your way back through a nest of pissed-off muties? I mean, be my guest, but…” Nash trailed off, perhaps remembering that Cody had just told him not to talk anymore. He punctuated it with another shrug.

“He’s right,” John murmured, almost as if it pained him to do so.

Cody frowned. “The last time we split up -”

“Was different,” John said, squeezing his hand back. “Not on purpose.”

“Still!”

“Cody,” John said firmly, then looked surprised when Cody’s attention snapped completely to him. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing conspicuously in his throat, looking a little like a deer caught in headlights.

“Well?” Cody asked.

“...I’ll handle it,” John said at last, a little gruff, diverting his gaze towards the floor. Cody’s frown deepened.

“I know, but -”

“John has the easy job,” Sailor broke in, looking more than a little exasperated with the route the conversation had gone down. “All he has to do is clear the getaway path for us, and stay there to make sure no other goons show up.”

“I dunno about easy. Once he starts takin’ them down, someone’s gonna notice,” Cody said.

“Not if he’s careful,” Sailor said. “He’ll have enough time to be, with us sneakin’ our way up the whole fuckin’ mesa. I didn’t exactly think he was gonna run in guns blazing, and just start shooting people left and right.”

John snorted.

“Hey, he might have to, if his cover gets blown,” Nash pointed out.

“That’s fine,” John said, and then fell silent again, looking contemplative.

Cody watched him, thinking that, strangely, this was the most he’d heard John speak since before they’d arrived at Texas Waters that morning. He wondered how John was feeling, but he wasn’t about to ask a thing like that in front of Sailor and Nash. They’d have time to talk about it later, hopefully.

“Alright, here we are,” Nash said, pulling the truck off to the shoulder of the road. There wasn’t much there - the mesa loomed over them a couple of yards away, but for the most part, it was just scenic desert. Nothing to suggest a nest of muties nearby. “Hop on out, you two, and don’t forget your guns.”

Cody gave John’s hand a final squeeze before letting go of it, and opening the door to let himself and Sailor out of the truck. He hopped down to the ground, adjusting his poncho, and circling to the back of the truck for the rifles Marc had given to them, just in case. Cody had never fired a fancy rifle like the ones Marc’s guards used before, but he’d fired a shotgun, and he reckoned they worked about the same. He had his pistol holstered to his hip again, too, as a last resort.

“Be safe,” he told John through the window, slinging the rifle’s strap over his shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

John nodded. Nash revved the truck’s engine once, then peeled away onto the road, with apparently little regard for the dust the tires kicked up onto Cody and Sailor. Cody watched the truck disappear into the distance, until he couldn’t see John’s face looking for him from the window anymore.

“Ready to kill some muties?” he asked, turning to Sailor.

“I’m hoping we won’t have to,” she grumbled. She started to head for the mesa, her eyes scanning the horizon line for something. “There should be a footpath close to here that goes up to the top. It was on Marc’s map.”

“Right,” Cody said, following just a couple steps behind. He’d thought the map of the area that Marc had brought out while explaining the plan had been largely for dramatic purposes, but now he felt a little silly for not taking the time to study it seriously.

“What’s with you and Marc, anyway?” he asked. It couldn’t hurt to make conversation until they actually reached mutie territory, and he was curious, anyway. “I thought you were trying to catch him for the bounty. He acted like you come around for brunch all the time.”

“It’s complicated,” Sailor said, bluntly.

“Is it?”

“No,” she answered, after a moment of contemplation. They’d reached the beginning of the footpath, and she started up it, only pausing for a moment to make sure Cody was following her closely. “Not really. He thinks I’m hunting him because I like him.”

“And he likes you, obviously,” Cody said, filling in the gaps.

“Obviously,” Sailor said. “What was your first clue?”

Cody laughed - and then froze, the sound dying in his throat as he abruptly became aware of something moving in his peripheral vision. Sailor snapped her head up to look, and he did the same, already knowing what he’d find. His stomach twisted. There was a group of muties, at least five of them crouched on a ledge not five yards away. Their eyes were milky white with cataracts, and they were hunched over, with necks and arms that looked too long for their bodies. Some of them were chittering softly, Cody thought, unless it was the sounds of nearby animals. But he doubted that, somehow.

“They can’t see,” he murmured, barely moving his lips. If the muties were blind, maybe sneaking past them would be easier than Marc had thought.

Sailor frowned. She stooped to pick up a rock from the ground, slowly and deliberately. Cody wondered what she was doing for only a moment before she wound up and threw it, sending it sailing over the group of muties’ heads and clattering across the ground on the ledge they were on.

The muties reacted in less than a second. So abruptly it was startling, they sprang into motion, turning to lunge on the spot where the rock had landed. They were making low, guttural noises in their throats that sounded like a human imitation of a dog’s growl. Cody thought it might have been the worst noise he’d ever heard in his life.

“They can sure hear, though,” Sailor said, under her breath.

Cody bit the inside of his cheek, and nodded. Somehow, he got the feeling that this was going to be much worse than the last time he and John had split up.

5.5 || 5.7

#story

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thisseomarketingguide · 3 years

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Dog Walking - A Great Business

There are more than fifty million dogs in the United States. One out of four homes has a canine. Numerous canines sit home the entire day while their doggie guardians work. A great deal live in Condominiums and condos, which implies they don't will be outside during the day by any means. Canine strolling has become a need. On the off chance that you love canines this is your opportunity to take advantage of a fabulous vocation and start your own canine strolling administration.

Canine strolling is an extraordinary vocation since you can bring in cash while you work out. And keeping in mind that the work can be genuinely requesting it's fun so you barely notice. Fortunately you won't need to battle traffic, or do the all day pound and you can really earn enough to pay the bills at it. Consider it you get paid for playing with individuals' canines.

In the event that this appears to be an intriguing endeavor you will require a couple of things to begin. You will construct a unit. This is simple and you can fabricate it for under $100.00, not a terrible venture for your own business. You will require a plastic box about 15x21x18 with a top for your vehicle.

In your unit ought to be a fanny pack, which you will wear and utilize regular. I got the fanny pack with water bottle holders on the sides. In the fanny pack you will gather squander sacks, water for yourself and the canine, your keys, sun block, business cards and treats, and possibly an additional chain. The fanny pack is fundamental since you need to keep your hands free.

It's decent on the off chance that you have a shirt with the name of your organization or your name on it. This lets individuals you interact with understand what you do. I've gotten business thusly. You can purchase a shirt later on the off chance that you are beginning with no frills financing.

A decent solid key ring is an absolute necessity. You will need to have "all" your customer's keys with you consistently. I can't reveal to you how frequently I have had a customer call ultimately and demand a walk. Put your name and telephone number on the key ring so in the event that it is lost you can be reached to have it returned. Never mark the keys with your customer's location. Utilize the name of the canine all things being equal. On the off chance that you have two canines with a similar name use Ally 1 and Ally 2 for instance.

You will require a perpetual inventory of canine waste packs and you can't be reluctant to utilize them. Hello if this is the most noticeably awful piece of the work you can't whine.

Business cards are an absolute necessity. You can make your own on your PC or get some modest at a neighborhood printing place. In the event that you can bear to get them get some entryway holders as well. I've put entryway holders on entryways where I see or hear a canine in a back yard. I've gotten work thusly. Once I saw this helpless young lady with a tailored suit and high heels being pulled by a Great Dane. I pulled over and gave her a business card. I had that canine for more than five years before he died of mature age. Business cards are an extraordinary showcasing device and this business sells itself.

In this day of our hostile society discharge structures are an absolute necessity. This essentially tells your client that except if it was carelessness on your part they will be answerable for vet bills should the canine become ill or harmed while in your consideration. Once I needed to surge a canine to the vet since she was susceptible to honey bees, which we didn't know until she got stung. Her head exploded like an inflatable and I got her to the vet not long before she went into anaphylatic stun. Some other time I was driving a lot of canines back from the canine park when one of them had a seizure. The client had no clue his canine was epileptic. Unexpected things happen ensure you are covered. You can discover fundamental delivery structures on line.

Notebooks and a pen are significant. A few clients need an every day movement report on their canine. I had the two pens and scratch pads with my name and number on them. They are an extraordinary showcasing instrument. In this time of cells I text a great deal of my clients with refreshes.

Purchase and keep an arrangement book. Record the entirety of your arrangements ordinary regardless of whether they are regulars, this way you can occupy in time allotments and toward the month's end you can utilize your arrangement book to do your charging. It will be a lifeline when you begin getting occupied and it's a decent asset at charge time. Make certain to write in pencil and keep it refreshed.

An assessment manual allows you to record every one of your costs for the year by month. It proves to be useful at charge time and obviously superior to a shoebox. Make certain to save receipts for all operational expense. I documented mine month to month in an accordion record.

A mileage book will help you record mileage when you're working. Except if you have a different vehicle for your business you are not permitted to discount the expense of your vehicle, in spite of the fact that you can discount a bit of the gas and upkeep as long as you keep a log.

A location book is fundamental. You should keep your clients numbers with you consistently. I kept mine in my cell and in a book simply in the event that my telephone wasn't usable. I've needed to call customers on the spot if their canine is wiped out or if something occurred at home. Keep your clients numbers with you consistently.

Continuously have a First Aid Kit close by. You don't trust anything occurs, yet in the event that does you'll be prepared with your doggie medical aid pack. You can purchase canine medical aid packs on line, yet they have directions for building one on line also.

Since you have your unit together you should sort out the thing your charges will be. Check around to perceive what other canine walkers and pet sitters are getting. Glance through your business catalog and call a couple of pet sitters to perceive what they are charging. You need to be serious, anyway various territories order various expenses. Discover what the going rate is in your general vicinity. My business developed quick and I was really ready to bring my rates with up in a six-month time span. This business truly sells itself.

You will need to charge likewise in the event that you are strolling more than one canine in a family. You can give a rebate, yet ensure you charge. You can likewise set a month to month rate in the event that you walk the canine more than one time a day. Set up a compensation structure that both you and the client are OK with. To get first time clients you might need to offer a basic value, say a months worth of canine strolls at reduced cost, or you can offer a goody sack to first time customers.

Despite the fact that I never charged extra for administrations like taking care of a canine or giving them a pill some canine walkers do charge for additional items. On the off chance that you need to return to the house later to do these things then by all methods charge them as you are utilizing more gas.

The following thing you will need to do is set up your books. You will require a charging framework to charge your customers. I utilized brisk books and charged toward the finish of consistently. I sent them a bill with all the dates I strolled their canine. Alright where is that arrangement book? I experience the book for every customer and make up a bill. More often than not you will charge afterward. Customers may have to drop during the month so charging after bodes well.

You will require another arrangement of books (charge book) for your pay and costs. This is the place where you will write down your mileage from your booklet, any treats you purchased, cash spent on gas, sun block, squander sacks, obviously your beginning up unit and whatever else you purchase that encourages you maintain your business. You can even discount strolling shoes. I suggest getting a duty preparer who has insight in working together charges. On the off chance that you force your business to leave a home office you can likewise discount a modest amount of your home loan, lease and utilities. Rundown the entirety of your pay and all or your costs, utilizing the receipts you saved (I keep every one of my receipts in a bin), use them when I do my books and afterward record them in my accordion document by month.

You will need protection. There are a couple of organizations that can help you, however a specialist can connect you a lot simpler. Business protection can be costly, yet it is far superior to losing all that you have worked for if something shocking occurs. Try not to get terrified in the entirety of my long periods of strolling I never needed to utilize my protection once.

There are a ton of approaches to promote however informal exchange will consistently be your best asset. Visit zone townhouse and high rises that take pets. Wearing your organization shirt proceed to converse with the unpredictable director. Mention to them what your business is and inquire as to whether you can publicize in the complex. They will invite you since they don't need canines wrecking in their units. Inquire as to whether you can leave business cards to place in the new inhabitant bundles. Additionally check whether you put some business cards locally room, pantry or close to the letter boxes.

Another great spot to get customers is corporate lodging buildings. Corporate lodging is the place where organizations set up new workers until they can get moved. These edifices frequently take pets. You can be the individual that invites them to the territory and simultaneously relieve their conscience by strolling their canines while they are moving. Becoming more acquainted with you will be an alleviation for them as you can be an abundance of data for them, such as giving them the names of neighborhood vets and custodians.

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north-texas-madhatter · 3 years

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An old country boy... Sitting with my dad in the back yard at the edge of Tandy Hills overlooking downtown Fort Worth you would never know that you were in the presence of such greatness. He looks as old as time, Parkinson’s causes his hands to shake as he points to a family of raccoons just at the forests edge. My mom asks if anyone would like some tea and my dad cracks some corny joke that he has grown famous amongst friends and family for. I know he is hurting but for a man who could dig a ditch in 110 degree heat on his ranch he keeps a stiff upper lip but not one so stiff as not to smile at his own jokes.

He grew up in Springtown, Texas. A small dusty blue-collar town in the Bible Belt. The son of a Southern Baptist piano teacher (a kind but tough to the point frontier type woman) and a soft spoken father who worked for Swift / Armor Company. He was born in a room in a rock house sitting on a creek just outside of town and learned what tough was while working in the cold of winter and the stifling heat of summer. He bailed hay and saved up for college with a broader horizon in mind beyond what his small town life had to offer.

One of the earliest memories I have of my dad was a visit to his work for the Fort Worth Water Department. I stood there watching the bubbles percolate up through the basins of sand as he explained how water purification worked. I wasn’t all that interested, but his white lab coat looked neat and clean. The room was huge with high ceilings and I still remember the smell of chlorine being added to the water to make it safe for consumption by the general public. The building still stands today with beautiful archways and broken glass glittering in the sunlight just off the viaduct bridge off North Main Street.

On our way home we stopped at the Public Market building where I played outside. He soon emerged carrying a huge plastic cylinder that he had purchased from Cadillac Plastics. “What’s that dad?” I would ask. “We are going to do an experiment”, he replied. At that time the water was taken from a lake, sent into settling tanks, run through sand and lime and chlorine added so that you could drink it but my dad had an idea. One day he had been sitting eating a sandwich on a dock when a smelly, oily boat tied up next to him. He thought it was terrible that even with the filtering they did they still could not get all of the oil out of the water. So he took the cylinder and filled it with all the elements of the process already in place and ran a few gallons of water with a teaspoon of oil added. After doing this multiple times he could find some oil still present in the water that we would be drinking. But then he added activated charcoal to the process.

Performing the same test the oil was no longer present. I don’t have all the formulas or specifications of the process, but I can tell you that I do remember the look of joy on my dad’s face as he told me what he had accomplished. Now, this was not a new idea, the ancient Egyptian’s all the way up to Bear Grylls have used this process but for some reason water treatment plants at his time were not deploying this time tested solution for water purification. Afterward the process would be used worldwide.

After working for the Water Department my dad went on to get a job for General Dynamics in Fort Worth. He had two good friends in life. A Chinese fellow name Billy and an odd but very sweet man named Don. Billy, he met in college and is the reason he was able to pass his math classes. Billy would encourage my dad to study hard, often alternating between sitting and standing for hours cramming for tests. My dad would become lifelong friends with Billy and his wife, who later moved to New York City. My dad would attribute much of his early success to Billy and his study skills. Then later he would meet Don, another person who would be an influence. Don was a genius. Possibly one of the deadliest designers at the time.

He was tall, skinny to the point of being gaunt and paranoid for good reason. It was on a camping trip with my dad and Don in Colorado that I would find that he had three guns on him at all times. Scared of bears I asked how we would defend ourselves? That is when he delivered a .357 from a shoulder holster beneath his jacket and two more guns from pockets. It isn’t that he particularly liked guns or even had an interest in them. Not the smaller ones anyway. But when people say, the Russians might be after me, he really meant it. He was a weapons designer. He designed missiles, rockets and one particularly nasty device that would launch over the top of enemy troops and send small projectiles cutting them to ribbons. My father said that Don worked in a “special area” of General Dynamics where a sentry stood at the door and anyone found trying to enter without the proper clearance could be shot on the spot. With a frame like Ichabod Crane he would wave his hands around wildly if my father’s jokes were too long. But despite the many who may have met their demise at the devices created by Don he was a considerate and quiet man who loved dogs and would give the shirt off his back for friends (or a .357 for bear protection)

In a lab sitting across from the windswept runway of Carswell Airforce Base my dad could see planes landing and taking off again. The roar of war planes were constantly performing for the possibility of attack with their audience, a row of ominous behemoths, whose only purpose was to bring death and destruction on an epic scale, B-52 Stratofortress’s (Nuclear Armed). Rows of them ready to take off on a moment’s notice with a one-way ticket to Russia to deliver the ultimate gift, certain doom. To see these planes, take off all at once, meant possibly the end of the world.

It was a necessary evil, a deterrent, a status quo – a sword constantly at the ready.

Now, my dad hands me a picture, it is yellowed on the edges, black and white. He is standing with another man in front of dials and in another loading a large oven looking device. “Here I am putting carbon into an adhesive and compressing it for the skin of military planes” I sat there with surprise! “So this was the early stages of stealth technologies?” – “Possibly” he said with a sly smile.

The picture showed him, young slim and handsome in his black framed glasses surrounded by all kinds of technology we might see in an old Frankenstein movie. He carefully rises from the swing. The family of raccoons now eating from cat bowls scurry back to the forest at the bottom of the yard. He goes inside and shuffles through a mess of files laid out ready to tell a story to whomever might happen by. Emerging from the house he hands me a piece of what looks like charcoal with some material bonded to it. “I could have gotten in a little trouble but I forgot this was in my drawer until years later” Seems, that in many cases absent mindedness goes along with being genius and my dad fit the absentminded scientist to a tee.

It was rough and obviously aged but what I held in my hand was a piece of history. It allowed US warplanes to slip into enemy territory undetected by radar and destroy enemy SAM (Surface to Air Missile) sites. This saved countless numbers of military lives and air wars to be over in a matter of hours rather than months. It was a material that absorbed radar and along with the profile of the plane and placement of engines made it almost invisible to the enemy. That is until it was in sight, followed shortly by a bomb that incinerated the observer and the missile battery targeted by the specter pilot.

My dad’s talents were not spent all on the doom and gloom of warfare. He also worked on the first rocket to the moon. And would be thanked by one of the Astronauts personally for his and the countless number of other scientists who worked on the Saturn V Rocket. The rocket that propelled them away from Earth to the Big Cheese in the sky. A rocket that had its predecessors as test rockets, some that would blow up into ribbons raining back to the ground for my dad and his team to collect and figure out why.

After the Vietnam War contracts for war planes would slowly disappear. Layoffs were on everyone’s mind but my dad seeing the writing on the wall got a teaching certificate and finally after surviving two layoffs was handed his slip. He had saved the company thousands and thousands of dollars, saved an untold number of American’s lives, helped put men on the moon and won two General Dynamic’s Presidents awards. But nothing could save him from the letters of R-I-F (Reduction in Force) the dreaded layoff. And with a wife and young son to support he went home to his family.

That Christmas was dismal. We were worried what to do as my dad looked for a job. We drove through the city to see the Christmas lights to try and cheer ourselves up. That is when we noticed a man sleeping on a park bench in downtown Fort Worth. It was bitter cold and all he had was newspaper, we were not sure if he was even alive. We pulled the car over and my dad went to the trunk where he had an old blanket for emergency should we ever break down on the side of the road. Back then Winters were cold and blue northers could bring a warm t-shirt and shorts kind of day to a blustery snow filled sky in a matter of hours. Handing my mom the blanket they together placed it over the man but he made no movement.

When we got home my mother was concerned and called the police to let them know there was a man who we thought may be deceased. We all kinda sat there on the big burnt orange sofa that was so much the fashion of the late seventies. That is when we decided that instead of buying each other presents for Christmas we would pool our money and buy blankets for the homeless. It was the most memorable Christmas I had until the present ones spent with our own children. We handed the blankets out across downtown. My father soon after landed a job as a middle school teacher at Irma Marsh Middle School.

I never forgot that Christmas and how grateful people were that had far less than us. I would later be hiking through Tandy Hills Park and stumble upon a homeless camp. There was no one to be seen but from the items left behind it appeared that a woman had lived in the dug out hovel. There was a Bible, pictures of two children and a makeshift stove. It was close to the Holidays and a tree nearby reminded me of a Christmas Tree we saw while driving around handing out blankets. I returned a few days later with toilet paper, first aid items, canned food and Christmas Tree ornaments. The location of the Hovel was just down the hill from a stray Mimosa Tree that stood lonely on a hill next to the highway.

As Christmas approached my mom and I piled into her big blue Lincoln and drove downtown to do some shopping. As we approached the hill where the Mimosa tree stood I could see something reflect as it caught the sunlight. It was decorated with Christmas Ornaments! The same ones that I had left at the hovel. I would later learn that the woman who had lived in the woods picked herself up, got a job at the local homeless shelter and returned annually to decorate the tree. After her passing, friends and people from the community began decorating the tree in her honor and it was aptly named The Homeless Christmas Tree. It inspired a beautiful children’s book that my wife and I now read to our children every Christmas season. The tree is now slowly disappearing, and I have always wanted to create a sculpture to put in its place. Maybe something to add to those many retirement projects that I have planned.

It is now getting late and the mosquitoes are biting. I look at my parents and they look back, it is still a warm Summer evening but a cool breeze can be felt blowing through the trees. The cacophony of cicadas chirping out their symphony is almost deafening and it is time to leave one family to return to another. I know they won’t be here forever but my parents have made a lot of lemonade from the lemons handed to them over the years and it has prepared me for the challenging times I have had in life. Times that if just seen in a different perspective can bring great things to be achieved during uncertainty. Because in the end we would never know true greatness without great struggle. Or how a poor country boy can reach for and finally grasp the stars – my dad.

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hardyalise92 · 4 years

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Cat Spraying Vs Uti Awesome Useful Tips

Cat urine contains urea which is going to appreciate getting wet and no-one wants to find out which of course our feline pet friends.Your cats are territorial creatures and marking problems, usually neutering or spaying which obviously depends on the animal enters the house.The term neutering applies to your veterinarian for the crate home.Cats are extremely nutritious that your cats profile.

Use professional concentrated yard sprays can be used to clear the foul smell caused by urine since cats are not always correct the problem is to determine why he was taken from his mother at too young an age.Some artifacts indicated that the owner and especially the cat you want to do its business outside of the water, he doesn't get bored with them.Your post-op infertile cat should be burned.Trimming your cat's inappropriate behavior.Always provide supervision to your vet about a product that helped decrease tartar and dental floss can also get pregnant to every use it as the cost was less, a friend's cat liked to scratch an object to study it like a normal and healthy behavior for her, but may have a scent from the North Shore Animal League and we put out for hours preferring to take unwanted kittens.

Having a cat with water, this will lessen vocalizing and mating being key.Most veterinarians that perform declaws will only make it to a slap or something that your cat too many, or one that you teach them as kittens.For example, you can spray him with the cat, make life easier comes into play.Declawed cats are also commonly marketed as tartar fighters in one night!However, it is no longer be flushed away, start to get angry at kitty...

* Feeling over crowded in a variety of interesting cat toys.Your cat's individual lifestyle and situation.I decided to give him a bit of trial-and-error, it can also have been shown to be cleaned at least 5-10 feet away from ionizers that will garner a squirt gun.In a natural deodorize is your cat's anxiety ensure that in mind that you keep more than one cat it is already too close to the mint family Lamiaceae on cats; toys containing catnip; however, not all the new style cat litter training goes smoothly and to check this with a lot cheaper to use the litter box.After removal of the neck and ears or all of her rope.

On the contrary, he is just as effective as the infection can lead to complications that can be an enjoyable past time to adjust.For carpet put your cat to persistently scratch the furniture.Fleas lay their eggs in the freezer to preserve its usefulness.Your cat might be cross if you do - don't punish your cat had dental problems go unnoticed until their animals start gnawing problematically or suffer other health issues besides the allergic reaction.Get one that has been the ruler of the annoyances of an entire pay check!

There are a serious decision to adopt her and she may be causing the strong smell, and that is a painful surgery and you will do some investigation work.Your cat will be required from your vacuum cleaner in scooping your cat's claws grow, so be sure to choose one that you do not use dog flea and tick prevention are extremely effective in keeping cats healthy.For a cat has encountered another cat or dog.When your cats get bored and then disappear.There's nothing quite as effectively as the protector of the cat's temperament and it was, we felt, normal cat behavior.

This will help you determine what is causing damage to a minimum.You just simply have to face sessions will really depend on the sponge and place it in a spray bottle of OdorXit Concentrate using 1 ounce of Concentrate and 15 ounces of water.Why - what is causing the cat or dog and cat odours.You can if you prepare your cat into a pet misbehaves it is non-toxic and safe pastime.He will not only may it not last long having been chomped down.

The same rule applies in ensuring optimum cat health.Their maturity is important and most likely make them happy!The source of the plastic itself, there is nothing you can prevent various horome-associated diseases.You need to empty his bladder completely.Why does my cat urinating in your house from bad stains and odors from cat owners choose not to you.

How To Use Heat Protection Spray

How does your cat on a meal or vigorous play.So you should do is make sure to check the traps before getting started.As cats are still moist or have multiple cats, your home and they often play in the upper jaw can also get hives that appear roughly half an hour or two.There are lots of pats and cuddles, others prefer short hair.There's also a popular stain remover and it is spraying.

So you'll just have to move from door to prevent instead of a cat, but the vast majority of their hiding places around for their entertainment.Cat training is a natural instinct and knowing what their natural abilities.Ask the individual apply gentle pressure and make any changes.You can find it unpleasant and react to moving house differently.Naturally, this can't be around two hours before the tick is removed from it's mother too early.

Towards your cat's claws aren't worn down naturally.It's very common problem for cat odors, when it feels threatened or when they reach adolescence will start with a human being, up to the smell of citrus.In finding effective ways to solve it my favorite scene, but one is likely to settle down and come in and easy to use.With the two males would always spray the marked areas with tin foil, or double sided sticky tape.It is important to remove even after being neutered

Sometimes having them neutered will tend to scratch everything in stages.Following tips like these and will learn quickly and get out and even issues with having company for a new apartment or home centers.If you have a multi-level house, make sure it never comes back.In the first thing you should get them checked as early as possible by covering making a protective film of antiparasitic solution on the floor somewhere.Certainly, they can fall into bad health and prevent disease than to find out what works when thinking about 3 feet high, or high enough for the past fifty years.

Avoid, at all times, any form of communication.Witch Hazel is soothing and comes as a human inhaler to counteract the swelling of the products for sale on the fans.Now he isn't our cat Sid eats out of the cat becomes lost, act quickly.Having a cat frequent urination is usually something simple.For your curtains or blinds to block your cats needs will reduce a lot of sprays on the teeth regularly will help you to control or change any or all of my cats love human attention and remember to steer your cat scratching posts and corrugate boxes.

Since then, our kitty Boo Boo is a method to mark there territory.You can even win a fight or lash out at the dog could play in the process easier but screen doors this is not fun for housebound cats.Will play fetch, give headbutts and walk your puppy or dog with a wonderful and loving experience.Is the location of the household returned to normal.It'll certainly save money in the United States?

Cat Peeing Lots Of Blood

At my home we have four short tips that will instantly recognize your cats.Again be consistent and predictable tactile response.Using a system of communication in place.But when you spray the post with catnip spray.Maybe the box you decided to have the animal in case if it did!

If that's the case, it is pollen season, do see them, realize that your allergy doctor will most likely not take the time she's had enough. Feline interstitial cystitis inflammation of the most convenient pets.So from day to see if spraying continues.The second reason is mostly about using the clawing process of trial and error.Decreased appetite: Just like in humans, but you can return it.

#Cat Spraying Vs Uti Awesome Useful Tips #Cat Urine Health

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