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ashleighxx · 7 years

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Klarolineauweek|Mythical Creatures

So I have been debating on posting this for today or tomorrows as its kinda the same?! But Abby told me to post it today (Such a good pet :P) Thank you for also looking over this for me too! @3tinkgemini

Dedicated to the amazing Kelly @garglyswoof for helping me out on my drabble for Vacay! Hope you like it :D

Dyfed, Wales, 1002 a.d

The first time he saw her, he thought it was a hallucination, that he was high on the blood he consumed from the fallen.

She was at in the middle of the field, dead bodies strewn about the area, their blood dripping into the soil. Her blonde waves covering her pale skin as he could see her hand clutch around around a man, rocking him back and forth, could hear her wailing over and over. Her body shaking with the wracking of her sobs. Too consumed in her grief, the young woman didn't notice him creep closer, he thought she would be an easy fresh meal to indulge in after consuming stale blood to sustain him until they travelled to the next village.

She finally looked up and locked eyes with his, her eyes red raw, almost as if she had been crying blood.

Light footsteps in the distance alerted him of his siblings presence, getting closer to him. He turned to see how close they were when he noticed the mist around his feet, growing thick and fast, spreading outwards towards his family. Looking back at the blonde to see where she was, he noticed she had disappeared, a black raven in her place, flying up to the dull, dark sky, taking the mist away with its departure.

When his brothers and sister finally reached where he stood, they dismissed his questions about the mist, the raven and the blonde, neither of them seen anything out of the ordinary, so he shrugged it off.

They had more pressing concerns than a hallucination brought on by tainted blood.

Their Father, Mikael, was hunting them down. Was going to end their existence after him and their mother tried to play God.

Their youngest brother, Henrik, had been ravaged by the wolves in the nearby village. It had been a fascination for the pair for years, to witness the men shift into their wolf forms, and little Henrik was determined to see them, even if that meant he would go alone. So Niklaus went with him, leaving the safety of the caves in order to witness the men transform and to keep his younger brother safe. But he failed dreadfully in doing so. The moment Henrik fell from the tree branch, a wolf came and dragged large, deadly claws down his chest. He was about to sink into his neck greedily, but the sound of a loud howl caught its attention first, sending the wolf after the threat and leaving the bloodied and battered body of Henrik on the ground.

The family was distraught and their mother, who was a healer, tried her all to bring him back to them. With no luck she turned her attention to her living children, tried to make them stronger than the wolves in order to keep them safe, but she didn't know of the consequences of her actions and had turned them into beasts.

Realising what she had done, how little control they had on their bloodlust, she turned her husband into the same creature in order to rid them from the world and correct her mistakes.

Florence, Italy, 1100 a.d

The Mikaelson siblings had settled down in Italy after their stay with the De Martels in Southern France a century ago, settling with the Count and his family after they fled from the old continent via England. It was there that the family gained the knowledge of creating creatures just like them and they had travelled across Europe turning humans into vampires in order to distract Mikael from hunting them.

News of vampires had spread from quiet whispers in crowded dens, to humans becoming hunters and exposing the creatures in front of mass crowds. Even though the family had found the human hunters amusing to watch, they felt safe in the knowledge of them being indestructible. They began inviting the hunters into their home, sharing tales of vampire rampages from other towns and taking delight that the hunters never knew the tales were about them.

This was what led to Rebekah falling in love with one of them, Alexander.

Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah, Finn and Kol were sat around their large meeting room, as was most of the rooms in their manor, holding five large personalities in a small and confined space was asking for trouble. They were discussing what they were going to do about the group of hunters who named themselves ‘The Five’. Too much exposure would be disastrous and the brothers were not happy with Rebekah putting them closer to danger by sleeping with the enemy. No matter how weak they seemed.

Kol and Rebekah had been bickering when there was a persistent knock on the window pane, a raven pecking at the glass trying to get their attention. They had ignored it, would rather throw themselves at each other and throw insults back and forth then deal the a pesky animal.

Elijah's patience wore thin, with both the constant bickering and incessant pecking, and he strolled to the window opening it, intending to shoo the bird but instead it flew inside. Thick, grey mist flooded and filled the room, the temperature decreasing dramatically and disappeared as quickly as it came, revealing a young, blonde woman standing in the middle of the Mikaelsons.

“You look familiar.” Klaus stood up from his seat, confused, trying to place where he had saw this woman before.

“I've never met you before.” She brushed him off, catching the eyes of the family as her voice dropped ominously, “But I am here to warn you.” “Warn us of what?” Elijah asked her.

“Your deaths. It’s getting closer…” the blonde tried to inform them, but was cut off by their laughs, not taking her seriously. She shrugged and muttered Chwandinaidd under her breath before she transformed back into a raven and flying off, leaving the family both stunned at what she could be and amusement to think they could die so easily. That night, after entertaining the hunters to a meal, the family members were daggered and were it not for Klaus’ inability to be put down by the magically crafted weapons, the family would have been taken to the great hunter, The Destroyer.

Devon, England, 1495

Over the course of the centuries, Klaus would be visited by a Raven.

Knocking on his bedroom window in Athens, perched in a tree watching him in Moscow, following him around in Warsaw and again hovering in Prague. Each time he saw the creature, he took it as an omen and gathered the family and fleeing straight away.

His siblings would be confused and curious to know how Klaus would know that their father would be gaining closer to them. News that the village they were staying in would have been burnt to the ground the day after they had fled the area, that they would have been caught and killed, made him trust the beautiful, black raven.

They had stayed in England for the past few decades, travelling from city to town around the country to take in the beautiful countryside sights. He had recently moved to Devonshire after the debacle with the Petrova doppelganger in their previous residence three years ago, as his minions continued searching for the young vampire. His loyal servants knew not to mess up and let her get away from their grasp. They had a healthy amount of fear not to betray him. The last he knew, The Destroyer was causing carnage in his wake through Europe, cleansing the continent from creatures of the night. Rumors were whispered in fear amongst the supernatural that The Destroyer had decided to solely feed off those creatures he deemed abominations rather than from humans to sate his hunger and to destroy them in one fail swoop..

Klaus was sat in his bed, fully sated of his lust and hunger, sketching yet another drawing of the first time he met the blonde. He had a collection of drawings, ravens featuring in most of them from where he had been warned to flee. But the image of what he had first thought was a hallucination was getting clearer the more he drew the scene.

It was real.

She was real.

He awoke to the sounds of wailing in the nearby forest. He placed the sketch book on his side table and used his vampire abilities to dress quickly and jump out of his window, off to see who dared waked him.

He stopped a few miles into the dense wooded area where the river bank would be, he could barely see it through the thick, heavy, grey mist that threatened to consume the forest whole. The wailing that woke him up had dissipated into quiet sobs, but loud enough to know he was close to whomever they came from. The fog had slowly cleared up, eerily in tune with the sobbing, to reveal the blonde woman he had just been drawing. She sat on the marshy area, half in the water, half on the muddy banking. There in her arms was a of a man, drenched and dead, his legs still floating in the river.

He had drowned.

It didn't take too long after his arrival for her to notice his gaze and she carefully placed the man onto the ground as she stood up and turned to leave.

Klaus followed her, the woman of his dreams and the raven who saved him. Wanting, no, needing answers. He didn't like being indebted to a creature for reasons he still did not understand. His mind swarmed with all the questions he thought of in the dead of night.

“What is your name?” His voice stumbled out in surprise that that was the first to form on his lips.

“Caroline.” She replied, her tone a little bit snipped.

He flashed by her as she carried on strolling through the trees, hoping to see her face as she practically ignored him. “And what are you exactly, love?” She have him a pointed look, registering his presence and that he wouldn't leave her alone until she gave him some sort of answers. He looked into the eyes that still was still red and puffy from crying, but her crystal blue eyes shone through, stunning him at her beauty. “I have been called many things.” She spoke in a clipped tone with her head held high, “The Wailing Woman, Harbinger of Death and Banshee to name a few.”

“So what is it that you do exactly? How do you turn into a raven? Why do you?” Klaus found that once he began voicing his questions he couldn’t stop. The pure need to know more about her taking over every inch of him. She stopped walking and Klaus feared she would fly away without giving him some more answers he wanted, but she turned more toward him and sighed, he held back a flinch at the annoyance written clearly on her face.

“I warn those families under my protection of their death, mourn those who have died and stay with the dying so that they aren't alone.”

The heavy set in her shoulders and the melancholy in her lyrical voice touched him deeply as he whispered, “Why would you do that?”

“Cause all life is precious, Niklaus. Even yours.” He raised an eyebrow at that, her clipped response had him wonder why she would continue to warn and save his life after he took so many others, others she may have mourned while he relished in their death, satisfied by their blood.

“My family is under protection?” she nodded and turned back to walk away. “Why?”

“I have no idea, but I wish I didn't have too.” She said with as much disdain as possible.

“Why?” He pressed, shocked at her hatred, wanting to know what irked her so much and why she still looked after them.

“Because your kind killed my family.” She snapped, her eyes flashing and her chest heaving.

“Vampire weren't around the first time I saw you.” Klaus scoffed, “And I know my family only fed from the fallen villagers.”

“Your still vikings.” She snarled as if the name alone was like ash in her mouth.

"You hold a grudge,” His blue eyes widened in stun, “not because I am a vampire, but because I am a viking?"

"Vikings killed my mother, my husband. A vampire did not." She sneered in contempt and with that she transformed, her dark raven feathers glistening in the moonlight as flew away, leaving Klaus alone, angry and amaused. His hand itching to draw their newest encounter. Itching to draw her face, now that he knew the exact shade of her blue orbs, knew how bright her light shine within her.

Mystic Falls, Virginia, January 2013

Klaus hated doppelgangers, with a passion.

The most recent being nothing but a nuisance in his life. He finally managed to use her as a sacrifice and become whole again, freeing his wolf and breaking the curse his mother bound it to with her death. But then her pesky friends had managed to safe her life in the process. If it wasn't for her blood being a key ingredient in the making of more hybrids, he would have killed her, again, but this time just for the sport of it. Now that she had turned into a vampire, however, she had made it her life's mission to rid the world of the Mikaelsons. He had finally killed Mikael, freeing himself and his family from the constant torment of having The Destroyer forever nipping at their heels, and now he had three young vampires and an untrained witch on his case filling his life with irritating annoyance. He had made up his mind and was ready to leave them to their pathetic plans and teen drama, but a hunter of the illusive ‘Five’, one that was not an original member, had appeared, piquing his interests and keeping him in the town a little longer. His younger brother Kol, had come back spewing nonsense of some bedtime story they listened to as children, warning them of the first immortal Silas and what would happen should he be awakened.

Klaus didn't believe it then, and he doesn't believes it now, but Kol was determined to stop the rag tag group from doing something they would all come to regret. This is what caused him to stand in a terror induced rage, clutching the wooden doorframe, screaming at the insolent teens to invite him into their home.

Kol was weakened with vervain, trapped in the Gilbert kitchen with the indestructible white oak stake in Jeremy's hand, aiming for his baby brothers heart. Elena spraying vervain laced water from the taps on him to keep him distracted. He couldn't watch another sibling die in this cursed town.

Not after Finn.

Not after...Henrik.

Klaus was stood there, eyes burning from the tears welling up in his despair. The world was about to burn down, just after he tortures Elena and Jeremy. As soon as Jeremy brought his hand up, ready to strike Kol, a piercing squawk nearly shook the house, shocking them all as a black raven flew at the young boy trying to peck at him. The surrounding temperature dropped suddenly, a cold, thick mist traveled into the house and Caroline stood in between the Gilbert's and his brother, shielding him with her imposing form. She took her entrance and the distraction to her advantage and wrestled the stake out of their possession and helped Kol out of the back door, Klaus meeting them on the other side ready to flash them out of harm's way to the safety of his home. The young hunter snarled in frustration and had managed to grab his crossbow, aiming for Klaus to temporarily take him down so that they could still get to Kol, but Caroline saw it coming and move in its way first, the arrow piercing her through the chest. Klaus roared at the scene, catching Caroline moments before she hit the ground. With his adrenaline and anger pumping, he managed to take hold of both her limp body and his weakened brother and flashed them to his mansion with as much speed he could possess. . She awoke to shouting and the sound of glass being shattered against something. Groggily, she brought her hands up to massage her temples. Dying usually gave her the worst of migraines. Groaning, she opened her eyes to the destruction of the lounge she was placed in. She swung her legs off the couch while she sat up, alerting the Mikaelsons of her recovered state.

“Great, sleeping beauty awakes.” Rebekah muttered angrily as Klaus looked away sheepishly.

That caught Caroline’s attention, causing her curiosity to flare. The two brothers were also present. Kol, the one she saved along with the elder, and reputedly more moral brother, Elijah. All four of them had their attention focused solely on her now, their argument seemingly forgotten as they stared at her expectantly and slightly confused. She pressed her lips, ready to ask them why they were looking at her in such a manner, until she remembered that she had just died.

“Ohh.” She managed to rasp, her voice still sore from death. “I’m immortal, so I can't die. Well I can die but I can’t die-die.” “How are you alive?” Elijah questioned her skeptically, uncertain of who or what she was or if she posed any type of threat to his siblings.

“He can explain that to you.” She waved her hand towards Klaus as she stood up and spotted the front door of the mansion. "Your leaving?" Klaus asked, his bewilderment clouding his voice and features, as she began to walk out of the door.

"You left first, Klaus." She stated primly as she brushed passed him. He grabbed onto her upper arm to halt her steps, forcing her to turn towards him. "What's that supposed to mean?" “I would have ran with you when you left Chicago, you know.” She whispered to him as she smiled a little, even if they both knew it wasn't a real smile.

"I left to keep you safe from my father. He would have killed you." He attempted to reason with her, neither noticing that his siblings had quietly filed out of the room. "But I can't die." She stressed. "I didn't know that. I was afraid he would find you and..." He looked away, sighing as he licked his lips. A clear sign of his that she knew all too well, he was nervous about what it was he was feeling and thinking. He shook his head as if to stop his train of thought before looking back to her. His eyes spoke of his deep desperation, his need for her to understand and believe him. "I tried to look for you.” He laughed humorously, “In fact, my minions are still out searching for you as we speak."

“I'm not just leaving because you left first,” She gave in a little, cocking her hip and waving her hand about, “I do have a life you know. Outside of the whole saving lives and supporting and morning the dead. So once you’re done with whatever mess you got yourselves into here, I’ll be in New Orleans.”

He drew her closer to him as she made to leave his side, the hand still on her arm dragged her near as he bent down towards her ear, his warm breath tickling the side of her neck. “Good, because I intend to be your last love, Caroline.” He whispered and kissed her slowly and lovingly on her cheek.

He watched her leave and caught sight of the small genuine smile she failed to hide from him as the door swung closed behind her. Caroline could swear she still felt his eyes upon her, sending her mind to drift back to a time when his eyes, and hands, rarely left her.

Chicago, USA, 1920

Smoothing her red flapper dress down, she placed her coat on the rack and made her way to the bar.

She had not been in Chicago for long before hearing of the most sought out bar in the city, Gloria’s. Prohibition sucked, but the supernatural underworld usually thrived in these types of scenarios, which led Caroline to assume the woman would be a witch. They were famous for owning pubs and bars these past few decades.

Settling down on the bar stool, she waved a waitress over and placed her order of champagne before she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. A gust of wind shook her beads on her dress, causing them to clank against each other.

“Is my family in danger once again?” A husky voice caught her off guard.

Caroline turned around to see Niklaus Mikaelson. “Nope,” She groaned as she took her glass from the woman tending the bar. “Just a simple case of bumping into each other.”

Sensing her withdrawal from his presence Klaus leaned in further into her personal space.

“Come on, get to know me. I dare you.” He whispered in her ear, causing goosebumps to travel down her spine, leaning back to see her response, his eyes twinkled.

“I’m too smart to be seduced by you.” She protested, chugging her glass of champagne and placed it on the bar.

Caroline stood up to leave with Klaus grinning at her. “Well that's why I like you.”

Unamused, she rolled her eyes and made her way towards the door. Glancing back at the ancient creature, leaning against the wooden bar, staring over her body before reaching her eyes. She couldn't help the shy smile that grew over her lips before storming out of the building.

She had been in the Windy City for a few months now and she really had been enjoying herself. She loved to visit the boutiques and Gloria’s bar was her favourite go-to to let her hair down. It helped that a certain creature resided his time there too. After she first bumped into him, it took her another two weeks to go back to the bar. But after a few sightings of him around the city, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Call it curiosity, or her lack of refusing a dare, she eventually dolled herself up and danced her worries away. Klaus left her alone as she worked the room, seducing the men, though she couldn't stop feeling shivers travel down her spine as his eyes bore under her skin.

It took a month for him to dance her off her feet, another to fall into bed with each other, and a third for her to realize that he slipped his way inside of her walls and that she didn't mind at all. She was having the time of her life. They danced, romanced and shared their passions, secrets and fears. Her second most favourite place in Chicago became Gloria’s, the first was Klaus’ studio where they spent hours closed up in the room, the stench of paint and lust on their skins.

She laid in bed, exhausted, sleepy. The slow, lazy patterns being drawn on her shoulder blade, down her spine before travelling to her thigh, lulling her to sleep. "I always wondered..." she heard Klaus murmur. "Hmm?" "Whenever one of us is in danger, you come to me instead of any of my siblings." He paused, but carried on drawing invisible art over her body with his skillful fingers. "Like when my father was going to kill Kol for all his recklessness in Spain. You told me first and we managed to set sail to New Orleans." She hummed as she began drifting off to sleep and she realised she hadn't answered him. "I don't know. Maybe it's something to do with nature." "What do you mean, love?" "Well in nature, ravens and wolves are natural friends. So why should it be different? I'm a raven and your a wolf." She managed to reveal before drifting off into a deep sleep, barely registering him freeze behind her.

New Orleans, Louisiana, October 2013

Caroline brushed past the party goers to find the right spot. Dancing had been her favourite pastime, and even if this era seemed more provocative than she had grew up in, she still loved to let loose of everything and just feel the beat of the music, swaying her hips with the rhythm.

Lost in the music, she didn’t feel the the familiar presence until it was right behind her.

Hands smoothly gliding on her waist stilled her for a moment before she was pressed closer into his chest, her head resting on his body as he swayed to the music with her. His nose brushed the hair that was on her neck away before his lips descended on her, trailing them up and down, nibbling.

She groaned in response and spun around, arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him close.

“My last love.” She managed to purr before she greedily took his lips with hers.

** Chwandinaidd (Scandinavians in Welsh) **

#Klaroline #klarolineauweek #ashleigh's fanfiction #ashleigh's covers

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randallvangundy · 4 years

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Beagle

Beagles are small, merry, and fun-loving. They make great companions for kids and adults. However, as they come from the family of hounds, they can be very stubborn as well. The Beagle’s soft, brown eyes with long ears set low, partnered with their merry nature, makes them extra adorable. No wonder that they are the 6th most popular dog breeds for families in the US.

Don’t let their size fool you because although they are undeniably cute, they are hunters. They use scent to go through life, and they are most likely to follow a more exciting scent than their owner’s request. They are curious creatures, and you need to keep an eye on them. Plus, they may require a lot of playtime because of their high energy.

Beagle Statistics

Dog Breed GroupHound Group HeightBeagles range from 13 inches & under; 13-15 inches. WeightBeagles weigh between under 20 pounds (13 inches & under); 20-30 pounds (13-15 inches). LifespanBeagles live about 10-15 years.

Beagle Ratings

Energy level Exercise needs Requires attention Playfulness Trainability Shedding Grooming Friendly with family Friendly with strangers Friendly with other dogs Prey Drive

History Of The Beagle

There’s still an ongoing discussion regarding the Beagle’s origin, and until now, it remains unclear. Even the origin of the name Beagle remains a mystery.

Records suggest that Beagles go a long way back to 16th century England. Different kinds of Beagles were known, and people loved them, even kings and queens.

During the reign of Edward II and Henry VII, Glove Beagles (small beagles) were very popular. They were so little that they could stand on top of a hand. There were also Singing Beagles known for their voices. Elizabeth I also has Pocket Beagles, which are only 9 inches tall.

However, when the fox hunting season came, Foxhound became the popular one, and the Beagles were forgotten. Good thing there were still farmers in some parts of England, Ireland, and Wales who continued to use them for rabbit hunting.

It was only again, in the mid-1800s, when Reverend Phillip Honeywood established a pack of Beagles who were believed to be the ancestors of the Beagles we know today. They were bred for their hunting skills, and they were not very attractive. Well, that was until Thomas Johnson started breeding them to be both attractive and functional hunters. When American Breeders heard of this, they began importing Beagles so they can improve the looks of their dog.

English imports were bred with a height of 15-17 inches to hunt fox, while American Breeders bred them to become smaller to hunt rabbits. This is the reason why there are two Beagle varieties that we know to this day.

Temperament Of The Beagle

Beagles are generally friendly, curious, and merry. They make excellent family companions as there is an outstanding balance between his sweet, loving nature, and his stubbornness.

As breeds meant for hunting rabbits, they work well with packs, which makes it easy for them to get along with other dogs. In other words, they prefer having companions. They treat their owners as their new pack, which makes them extremely loyal and loving.

Beagles make excellent companions; however, they can’t be guard dogs as they are too friendly. However, they can be excellent watchdogs as they love howling and barking. These excessive loud noises might cause problems with your neighbors, so be prepared to need to work on controlling this.

It’s best always to give them opportunities to go outdoors to explore and smell anything of their interest. However, as an owner, you would need to keep an eye on them well. Their curious personality will let them chase the smell he scented, and it may lead him away like in the roads or other people’s backyard.

In line with their hunting background, they are very determined dogs and are set to chase something once they got a scent of it. They may start ignoring you if what you want is something opposite of what they want to do. This also gives them very selective deafness, which makes it even harder for you to communicate what you want with them.

These traits make them hard to train. That’s why if you’re getting a Beagle, you would need to teach them at a young age. Obedience classes are required, and to make these classes easier, offer them foods and treats because Beagles love eating.

Also, you would need to take them to exercise daily, even just for an hour. Because if you don’t, they can become destructive.

Beagle Care Requirements

Nutrition: Because of their sensitive sense of smell, Beagles can easily track the scent of food, which is why they love eating. If you don’t watch the number of calories they take in a day, they might end up overweight. A Beagle’s weight is about 25 to 30 pounds, which means they would need 674 to 922 calories per day. Of course, this can change accordingly, depending on your Beagle’s activities. Also, Beagles would need a high-protein diet because of their high energy and active lifestyle. Dog food usually works well, but be sure to choose one with poultry, fish, and meat ingredients. They would also need essential fatty acids to keep their coat shiny. You can also add vegetables, fruits, and carbohydrates for fiber. Beagles eat anything you prepare for them. However, you should avoid meat by-products and cereal grains ingredients because they are harder to digest.

Grooming: Beagles are short-haired dogs that shed seasonally, particularly during Spring and Fall. However, you still shouldn’t skip regular brushing. If you want to avoid cleaning hair all over your house, you would need to brush your Beagle at least once a week. This will not only reduce the shedding during the Spring and Fall seasons, but it will also keep their coat shiny and healthy. For bath time, they don’t need frequent bathing. Sometimes one both in two months or one bath in six months is enough. Of course, depending on your dog’s activity. You would also need to take care of their teeth. Dog treats are a great way to do this, considering that Beagles love eating. And don’t forget to trim their nails too. If you’re afraid that you might hurt them, visit a pet grooming center and let the experts handle it.

Exercise: Beagles are energetic and active dogs. They need at least one hour of supervised exercise a day. Yes, they need supervision. Unlike other dogs, you can’t simply release them in the backyard to play. If you do, they’ll be at risk of a lot of dangers, or they might cause a lot of destruction. Whichever of the choices, for sure, you don’t like either of those outcomes.

So, for their playtime, make sure they’re supervised. Also, it’s best if they have other dogs to play with because they’ll enjoy it more. If you’re taking them for a walk, make sure they have a leash.

Health: Beagle dwarfism is one genetic disorder that can occur. It affects the development of the cartilage and may take years before being detected because beagles are naturally short dogs. Dwarfism can also cause Intervertebral Disc Disease, which also takes years to be identified until your dog started showing pain. Another genetic disease that you would need to watch out for is Chinese Beagle Syndrome. It’s a disease where the front toes of the Beagle are short and make them look like a Ballerina. They may also look like they have tighter skin, and they’ll look more muscular. Other common conditions affect the eyes such as Cherry Eye, Glaucoma, and Distichiasis. Diabetes, ear infections, hip dysplasia, epilepsy, hypothyroidism are common dog conditions that can occur too. Beagles are generally healthy, and most genetic conditions are rare. However, it’s still best to have them checked regularly to avoid any conditions mentioned above.

Lifespan: Beagles have a life expectancy of 10-15 years.

Famous Beagles

Snoopy: The most famous beagle dog in comics and television

Bagel: Dog of Barry Manilow; featured on the back album cover for Manilow’s triple-platinum record “Tryin’ to Get the Feeling”

Brains: The smart Beagle companion of Inspector Gadget

Him, Her, and Edgar: They are the dogs of late US President of President Lyndon Johnson

Shiloh: The Beagle dog from the book Shiloh which was also made into a film

Odie: Garfield’s famous sidekick

Fun Facts About Beagles

They are centuries old, and no one can explain their origins.

The earliest Beagles were very tiny (8-9 inches high).

Beagle means “loudmouth” in French, and they can be pretty vocal.

They’re the 6th most popular dog breed in the US.

Queen Elizabeth I owned Pocket Beagles, which can fit in one hand.

Most Beagles are trained as part of US airport security.

Beagles’ noses have 200 million scent receptors.

Pure Beagles have a white-tipped tail, which makes it easier to track them in woods, tall weeds, and brush because you can immediately see it.

Beagles love companions, and they love being in packs.

The post Beagle appeared first on Furry Friends Gear.

Beagle published first on https://furryfriendsgear.tumblr.com

#pets #Pet Care #dogs #cats #veterinary care

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limejuicer1862 · 6 years

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Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger. The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Sam Smith

Editor of The Journal (once ‘of Contemporary Anglo-Scandinavian Poetry’), publisher of Original Plus books, I was born Blackpool 1946 and am now living in Blaengarw, South Wales. While I am still a freelance writer my last day job was as an amusement arcade cashier. But I have also been a psychiatric nurse, residential social worker, milkman, plumber, laboratory analyst, groundsman, sailor, computer operator, scaffolder, gardener, painter & decorator…….. working at anything, in fact, which paid the rent, enabled me to raise my three daughters and which didn’t got too much in the way of my writing. I now have several poetry collections (the latest being Speculations & Changes: KFS) and novels to my name (the 2 latest novels being Marraton: IDP and The Friendship of Dagda & Tinker Howth: united p.c. (see website http://thesamsmith.webs.com/

and for The Journal http://sites.google.com/site/samsmiththejournal/ )

The Interview 1. What inspired you to write poetry?

It was so long ago, and it all seemed to happen at once. A girlfriend gave me Henry Miller’s Smile at the Foot of a Ladder, and it decided me to become a writer, to try to produce, in my then worthless life ,something as worthwhile as that novel. But when I imagined myself as writer it was as a novelist, not a poet. Albeit that my very first attempt as a ‘writer’ was a poem, about an abortion. I was 22. And over the following 23 years of trying to get my novels published in moments of crisis I often sought to express side issues in poems. But not poems that I ever tried to get published.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

Libraries, I think. But I was a voracious reader from an early age, absorbed a lot through cultural osmosis. A post-WW2 baby there was so much change happening about me as I grew, Blighty-type doggerel and tin pan alley pop music was slipping rapidly into the past. Simon and Garfunkel, Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Ginsberg’s Howl, were all showing me how different just song lyrics could be; and I was knocked sideways by the poetry of Thom Gunn. That spoke to me. But as I say I was concentrating on writing novels and trying to get them published. I was given enough encouragement by leaping various publishers’ hurdles, and by agents briefly taking me on, to keep on writing and trying. Even though my biggest fault so far as publishers were concerned was that they didn’t think my novels ‘commercial.’ Until, after the latest disappointment, when all had seemed so promising, I decided I had to have something of mine in print and poems seemed the easier option. So I dashed off a 5 page poem featuring my work then as a psychiatric nursing assistant. My friend and neighbour at that time was the painter Derek Southall. I gave him a copy of the poem. He was old friends with the poet and translator Michael Hamburger, and Derek sent him a copy of the poem. Michael commended the poem but said that it contained at least 10 shorter poems. I broke the 5 page poem into shorter poems, submitted batches to various magazines and was soon getting an acceptance a month. I wrote more poems. Within a couple of years I had my first collection. That sold well, and then the novels started getting into print. And I haven’t stopped since. A side effect of having so much to do with publishers, and curious about how it was done, led me – under the guidance of the late Derrick Woolf of Odyssey Press – to also starting my own magazine and small press. Principally to help others into print, and to put forward my own taste in poetry and to put back some of what the small press had given me, principally confidence.

3. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older poets?

They belonged back in school. Except for Thomas Hardy, he was still, and still is, relevant. But beyond school there was Rimbaud, Auden, Eliot waiting and to have me wondering what next? And then of course there was Ezra Pound. But it was all kinds of writing that I was, and still am, interested in, novel ways of looking at any subject by any author in any genre. Just take Stephen Dobyns, thriller writer and poet, or Martin Stannard, critic and poet, Sylvia Plath, playwright and poet.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

Up at 6:30, desk at 7:00. Answer emails, fill orders for The Journal and Original Plus; then see where I am in my writing schedule. Which can be my blog – http://www.thesamsmith.simplesite.com – or my latest novel, or ideas for a poem, or to catch up on Submissions to The Journal or edits for a new Original Plus chapbook. The schedule can of course go out the window if there’s something outstanding or urgently required. That will take me up to midday when I pause for lunch. If the weather is fine and dry I might go for a walk, do some gardening; or more likely get stuck into household chores, family obligations. If it’s raining, and there’s no chores, family things to do, I’ll probably return to my desk, or take up a book, newspaper. Evening’s usually telly: at my age I’m too knackered for ought else.

5. What motivates you to write?

In the beginning it was to explain myself, to tell of the world that I knew, in my way. The way other people used words didn’t match what I was experiencing. And I’m still struggling to find that metier. Now though writing has become my character. It’s who I am, what I do

6. What is your work ethic?

I’m task-oriented. The work needs to be done, I do it. So I set myself tasks, see them through to completion. Fortunately I’ve never been driven by the desire for either fame or fortune. Fame could have sold more books, and fortune would have been helpful, but really satisfaction lies mostly in getting the job done.

7. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

We had very few ‘good’ books at home. ‘Coral Island’ by Ballantyne I must have read about a dozen times. It was when I was at sea I read most – Hemingway and Steinbeck in the ship’s library among the storytellers. What drew me to them was their willingness to try new ways of telling a story. Then when I left and lived in Chelsea, books that were pressed on me came from many directions. Eliot and Auden I suppose continue to influence, along with William Carlos Williams, and through those three to Japanese poetry. Which among other translated poetry has been a greater influence on my own writing than any in English. Something about the different rhythms, a certain clarity…

8. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

Over the last few years I’ve been amassing the works of Haruki Murakami, fascinated by his storytelling abilities, different again. Of poets another who, like Murakami, can seamlessly introduce the fantastic into the ordinary and make it make sense, is K V Skene. Both are beyond magic realism, make the ordinary extraordinary. But really there are just so many good writers about at the moment and it’s been my privilege to work , as editor and/or publisher, with many of them.

9. Why do you write?

Not to get rich. One of the hardest things to accept in my first few years of being a writer, of trying to find time to write, was having to have a day job. Now, with it being nigh on impossible to make a living out of writing, I see it as part of any writer’s/artist’s calling – the day job. As I said before I write to try and get across my version of the world, which is still at odds with the mainstream version. I’m still trying to create the perfect work of art. I’ll know it when I see it. But I know now my limitations. I am no showman, am rubbish at publicity and performing. The private bit of writing is what I relish.

10. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

Get pen, paper, keyboard; and write. And when you’re pleased with what you have written, submit it to an appropriate publisher; and accept the likely rejection. Look again at the work, identify failings, and try again. And take care over which day job, or way of making a living, you go for: it will inevitably inform your writing. 11.Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

I’ve got several poetry projects. One long term one is occasionally adding poems to a collection, Scenes from a Country Life, which has poems covering all the country places I have lived for any length of time. Another looks to be building up to a chapbook length collection of Mock Sonnets. Another in the making is one provisionally titled Futureless. The novel I’m working on has the working title http://www.spousecheck.com. I’m still uncertain what that’s about. I started a year of blogging called Beginnings and I’ve yet to bring that to a close. At least let myself off the hook of regular postings. And then of course there’s the next issue of The Journal to put together. Reviews to do for that; and the latest Original Plus production. I also have 2 novels, Trees: the Tree Prospectus and Once Were Windows Once Were Doors, sitting in publisher’s slush piles. Should either get accepted then I’ll be immersed in the edit of that. I love working with a good editor. Best learning curve I know

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Sam Smith Wombwell Rainbow Interviews I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me.

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