jaygrim
TheAllSeeingEye
here is my beloved doggy
Thats not a dog it's a big black fish.
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here is my beloved doggy
Thats not a dog it's a big black fish.
Labradors are awesome
Labradors are awesome
Methinks those dogs get more love than the wife...
Thats not a dog it's a big black fish.
Poor dog - that pipe is probably pumping loads of sewage into that river.
hahahahaha, no mate, not sewage, water runoff to the lake, the yard gets soaked when it rains and that helps to aleviate the soakage, so its just rain water from the yard
I love pets, they give you so much satisfaction.
:lmao: You should be aMy nan had a cat called Tammy. Forever I will be afraid of girls called Tammy, and very old mega-furry cats (the ones that never get trimmed and end up looking like furry footballs).
It would hide in a different place every time I visited. Under a chair, behind a door, ON TOP OF A CUPBOARD. When you entered the room, it would swipe at your feet/scratch up your legs/pounce on your head and scratch your skin off. Literally, big chunks of your face being dug out, blood everywhere. And yet nobody ever did a fucking thing about it, they just said "there there, she doesn't know any better". No, she doesn't know any better, BECAUSE WHEN SHE DOES IT YOU PICK HER UP AND CUDDLE HER. KICK HER THROUGH THE FUCKING WINDOW.
Bear in mind I was only 8, this happened to me until I was 10. It was petrifying, it really was. You're only small yourself, and there's this creature that everyone protects and yet is out to kill you.
I thought I'd always hate cats but then my sister got three and they were brilliant. So soft you could fart in their face and they wouldn't do anything (the nephew did for years, little bastard that he is). And they practically looked after themselves, you put food out and they'd go back to it throughout the day.
And then my mum got a dog that was just as evil as Tammy, but worse because A) it was ten times bigger and B) it had big sharp teeth that could do a lot more damage. Mum almost lost a toe at one point. Imagine walking into the kitchen aged 12, and there's your mum screaming in agony with her toe split open, right down the middle, with the bone clearly visible. But again, the attitude was "it's not his fault, he's got arthiritis" and it was forgotten about. God I was glad when that dog died.
Thinking about it, no wonder I hate animals. I've never made the connection before. :eh: