Posts Tagged ‘humor’
Walking Your Dog- Good ownership, or Animal Cruelty?

I recently got into an argument over the issue of walking my dog. I have a "border-aussie", a Border collie-australian shepherd mix we bought from a shelter. I don't use the term "rescue" because I wasn't out to save any dog, I was saving money by getting an unwanted dog, instead of one with "papers".

Turns out, I got a great deal. My dog, now a year old, is incredibly smart. And very good with my kids. The idiots at the shelter thought she was blind (see "ghost eyes" and australian shepherds) and deaf. She may have hearing loss in one ear, but she responds to commands. She loves going outside and has killed one naughty rabbit so far. My only complaint about this dog in fact, is that she follows me around everywhere, chews/slobbers on me all the time and is otherwise a canine groupie. And I'm told I should be grateful for all that attention.

Anyways, I bought the dog because the wife and kids wanted a little pampered furball to play with. I wanted a dog to scare away all the varmints that keep coming onto my property from the former-farm and wooded area behind us (neighborhood in front of us, wild area behind us). We get coons and possums that root in the trash making a horrible mess on my carport. We get squirrels that chew holes in the plastic lids of the garbage cans. We get birds crapping everywhere. We get rabbits that killed my arbor day tree last year by gnawing the leaves off. We see deer and foxes prowling outside our backfence. And we get feral wild cats crapping in our flower beds.

Since the neighbor to my left had three dogs for ten years that barked nonstop, and the people across the street had multiple barking dogs, I didn't think there'd be any problem with getting a dog myself. But now, almost a year later, one of my neighbors doesn't like my dog barking.

The dog behavior websites offer up some strange ideas for quieting my dog. For one, they all insist she's bored. Funny how when I look outside, I see her barking at birds, squirrels or cats, and that she quits when they go away. Sounds "territorial" to me.

The dog sites further claim that I should "crate" my dog all day, so the neighbors don't have to hear her barking. Crating is where you lock your dog in a cage that's barely big enough for them to turn around in (it's small to make them feel safe). Kinda of like a doggy prison. Then you hire a dog walker to come over three times daily to let your dog out to stretch it's legs.

What?!

Can you imagine if people treated their children that way? I'm no animal rights nut- I firmly believe dogs are property and not sentient beings. But lock them in a little cage all day? That's crazy.

When I was a kid, dogs spent all day in the yard. They had dog houses and shade trees. They didn't have toys. They had sticks, and any occasional wildlife that wandered into range. Farm dogs had it even better, wandering around wherever they damn well pleased, and maybe coming home for dinner.

The dog websites also advocate dog walking. Again, I have to look to my childhood. Walking the dog was what you did when you lived in an apartment or didn't have a fenced-in backyard. You took your dog outside, maybe on a leash, so it could crap and stretch it's legs. If you had a yard, you let it do it's own thing when it wanted. When I proposed this theory on one site, pointing out that wolves and coyotes don't get taken for walks and seem to do just fine, I was told that they get to roam miles and miles.

Hey, my collie runs circles around the yard. She ain't sittin' in one spot all day long.

Again, I have to compare this to kids. Primarily because it always irritates me when animal nuts go on and on about rescuing dogs but never work to feed or clothe children. I don't walk my kids. Oh, sure, I take them to the store and make them walk. I take them to the zoo and walk them around or sometimes take them to a park. But I don't walk around the neighborhood like a busy-body, dragging my kids with me. They have a yard they can play in- with a swing even. Not to mention, they'd rather be inside watching Spongebob or playing video games. Or reading a book.

Is it cruel I don't take my kids for walks? Maybe if I did, they'd be too tired to misbehave. That's one theory behind dog-walking. A tired dog is a good dog.

How can people who think their dogs are more important than people treat them so poorly? Locking them in solitary confinement all day, then dragging them around on a leash in the evening? How is it not cruelty to wear a dog out so that it is incapable of playing? Not feeding them produces the same results, and it's considered cruel.

Moreover, I want someone to explain to me how "letting" my dog bark is rude to my neighbors. I have to listen to kids yelling and birds singing. How rude. I have to listen to loud music from my neighbors' guests. How rude. If only there was some ultrasonic device I could hang outside my house, disguised as a bird house or some other innocuous-looking object, that would emit painful auditory pulses when my neighbors or the birds were being rude. I mean, they make them like that for dogs, so why not people?

I guess to be a "good dog owner" I need to lock my dog in a hamster cage, all day long, then drag her by the throat around the neighborhood, keeping her muzzeled to prevent her noise-making, while bombarding her ears with an ultrasonic dog whistle.

Yeah, that's humane.

 
MSNBC works hard to make excuses for Hillary Clinton…and any other liberal who steps in it

Watch as this MSNBC "newsguy" makes excuses for Hillary Clinton's recent outburst at a press conference in the Congo.

This is just too funny. You have to love it when the libernazi press works so hard to exonerate those in their ideological camp.

Been seeing a lot of this lately as liberwocks of every stripe continue to step in it. They're so monochromatic.

ENJOY!

DemocratsSuck.com gets the hat-tip on this one.

 
Thor’s Day Rant: I Gave At The Office

This isn’t just a rant. It’s a proclamation: I won’t be giving anything to charity this year.I already gave at the office.

About midway through January, my car was broken into. Okay, "broken" might be too harsh of a word here as I suspect it was an unlocked back door (thanks, kids) that allowed the thief entry. I didn’t have to repair anything on my car. Nothing was actually "broken."

Nope, there I was, walking out to the parking lot after another hard day in the office, when I noticed the glove box open in my car. And papers pulled out. And my doors unlocked.

Oh, crap.

Sure enough, someone had rifled through my 1991 Toyota Camry. Which is in itself kind of puzzling. I mean, I drive a junker. It has rust spots and holes in the body and everything. The paint is peeling off the roof. Oh, sure it has a new high performance engine in it, and new tires, but outwardly, it looks like a piece of crap. I like to think of it as urban camouflage. Or at least, I used to.

What kind of a person is cruising the parking lot- which I might add is next to a Court House and Sheriff’s Office- and thinks, "Oh, I bet there’s good stuff to steal in that car!" And anyone looking in my car is going to see the toddler booster seat in the back, the blankets for the kids on the seats, the crappy, 1994 generic radio, the hole worn in my driver’s seat from the Leatherman pouch worn daily on my belt, the crayons on the floorboard. What is there to steal?

Oh, wait; maybe it was my spare change.

I keep a lot of spare change in the car – dollars and dollars worth of pennies in the center console. All the drive-thru change I get goes there for my oldest daughter. She gets a thrill at cleaning the change out of the car. Except for January- since it was stolen before she could get to it.

Okay, even that is not entirely accurate. The lazy @#$% that stole money from my car couldn’t be bothered with the $2 or $3 worth of pennies. Nope, they took the time to pick through and get the maybe $4 or $5 of quarters, nickels, and dimes. Wow. What a haul. I hope they didn’t spend it all in one place.

Of course, that’s not all I’m out. No, it’s more complicated than that. See, the intruder also searched my glove box, where I keep gas receipts and deposit tickets and slips. And maybe a spare checkbook. Sometimes it’s there, sometimes it’s not. So I had to go to my bank and get a new bank account number.

And that’s where the real trouble began.

First, there’s the time I had to spend going and getting a police report made. Then I had to go to the bank, with my wife, to open the new account, get new debit cards, order checks, etc.

Then there was the trouble of contacting the two autopayees I have, like my insurance company, and telling them I’m changing accounts. In particular, I had to tell them that my automatic monthly payments should still go through, rerouted by the bank, but if not, to let me know and I’d fill out new EFT forms.

So two weeks pass, and the new checks come in. Wrong. Wrong name for me, and my wife’s name is missing. That went over really well. A call to the check printer wastes a good half hour of time, as the little smart ass there tells me I have to go see my bank to get a name added. Then he tries to tell me where my bank is located.

"I know where my bank is," I responded. Smart Ass sneered over the phone (a skill he no doubt learned at the HP Customer Service Academy) and told me that he wasn’t saying I didn’t.

Fun stuff.

So it’s back to the bank on my lunch hour the next day to raise hell and order a second batch of new checks. With the right names- both of them.

February then rounded out with some excitement. Where in January my two automatic bill payments were deducted from the new account as promised by the bank, in February the bank decided not to honor them…Without telling me. The first payee was kind enough to contact me about it, and I sent in new ACH forms. Not so my insurance company.

On March 4th I contacted the insurance company, in person, and told them that my payment didn’t come out at the end of February as it was supposed to. I filled out a check, and the lady tells me, “that’s okay,” she just needed the account numbers; she won’t cash the check.

Sure enough, the same day, a payment is withdrawn electronically and I’m current again on insurance.

Five days later, the insurance company cashes my check, overdrafting my account. This requires a visit to the insurance office again. The insurance man doesn't even apologize. He just pledges to "look into it." Time to switch insurance agents, I reckon. And that's going to take more time and signing papers.

So, let’s see… I’m up to $38 for an overdraft fee, $150 for a duplicate insurance payment, and about, oh, I don’t know, 8 hours of my time. All in all, I figure this works out to over $300 of loss for me. I know that’s not a whole lot, but it’s more than I normally give to charities.

I sure hope whoever broke into my car really needed that $6 worth of change they stole. Like they were starving to damn death. Realistically though, I imagine they used it to buy lottery scratch offs or a pack of smokes, or maybe some drugs (I could be wrong there, no idea what drugs cost). Heck, maybe they bought some colored markers and invested in an eye-catching "will work for food" sign. Obama wants everyone to reinvest in America, right?

Whatever the thief did with my kid's loose change, that’s my charity for the year. This’ll be the first time in my life that when someone approaches me for a handout or a raffle ticket to aid something, I can, with complete and utter lack of guilt, refuse and declare, "Sorry, I gave at the Office."