Furry Dog Quotes

You must have had such a great childhood with a man like that for your father. (Delphine) Yeah. All puppy dogs and rainbows and those weird furry people with padded coat hangers on their heads that look like space aliens on acid. (Jericho) You mean the Teletubbies? (Berith) The fact that you know what they're called, Berith, truly scares me. (Jericho) As a demon of torture, it behooves me to know all things that are deeply annoying. You'd be amazed how many people in the modern age no longer fear zombies as much as Teletubbies. (Berith) Not really. I'd rather battle a brain-eating zombie any day than hear them sing. (Jericho)

Soon or late, every dog's master's memory becomes a graveyard; peopled by wistful little furry ghosts that creep back unbidden, at times, to a semblance of their olden lives.

does you costume involve leather?" she'd asked. and he'd said, "Actually, yeah, it might." it really did. it involved a leather dog collar, leather pants and a leash, and the leash was held by Ysandre, who was in skintight red rubber, from neck to knee high boots. she'd topped it off with a pair of devil horns and a red tridant. she'd made Shane her dog, complete with furry dog mask. ***"Breathe," Myrnin said. "I'm not much for it myself, but i hear it's quite good for humans."***

You'd help if you could, wouldn't you, boy?" I said. "It's no wonder they call you man's best friend. Faithful and loyal and true, you share in our sorrows and rejoice with us in our triumphs, the truest friend we ever have known, a better friend than we deserve. You have thrown in your lot with us, through thick and thin, on battlefield and hearthrug, refusing to leave your master even when death and destruction lie all around. Ah, noble dog, you are the furry mirror in which we see our better selves reflected, man as he could be, unstained by war or ambition, unspoilt by-

When people say that animal rescuers are crazy, what they really mean is that animal rescuers share a number of fundamental beliefs that makes them easy to marginalize. Among those is the belief that Rene Descartes was a jackass.

Then, from somewhere above us, a voice yelled, "Hey, Bronze Butt!" Over the Colossus's head, a cloud of darkness formed like a cartoon dialogue bubble. Out of the shadows dropped a furry black monster dog-a hellhound-and astride his back was a young man with a glowing bronze sword. The weekend was here. Percy Jackson had arrived.

You must have had such a great childhood with a man like that for your father. (Delphine) Yeah. All puppy dogs and rainbows and those weird furry people with padded coat hangers on their heads that look like space aliens on acid. (Jericho)

...men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal, and because steamship and transportation companies were booming the find, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted dogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by which to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost.

I knelt down and hugged the furry monster for a while. If it was too tight, Ghost didn't seem to mind. He wagged his tail and whined a little, sensing the hurt that I felt. Dogs are truly the best of companions. You don't need to explain. They know as much as they need to know, and they are loyal no matter what sins you've committed.

Recruit your pet as a study partner. Cats are usually more than happy to do this - in fact, you may have trouble keeping them off keyboards and books - and dogs will often serve as well. Few things are more relaxing than having a warm, furry creature next to you as you study.

The mice were furious." [...] "Oh yes," said the old man mildly. "Yes well so I expect were the dogs and cats and duckbilled platypuses, but..." "Ah, but they hadn't paid for it you see, had they?" "Look," said Arthur, "would it save you a lot of time if I just gave up and went mad now?" [...] "Earthman, the planet you lived on was commissioned, paid for, and run by mice. It was destroyed five minutes before the completion of the purpose for which it was built, and we've got to build another one." Only one word registered with Arthur. "Mice?" he said. "Indeed Earthman." "Look, sorry - are we talking about the little white furry things with the cheese fixation and women standing on tables screaming in early sixties sit coms?" Slartibartfast coughed politely. "[...] These creatures you call mice, you see, they are not quite as they appear. They are merely the protrusion into our dimension of vast hyperintelligent pandimensional beings. The whole business with the cheese and the squeaking is just a front." The old man paused, and with a sympathetic frown continued. "They've been experimenting on you, I'm afraid.

As we approached the shop, a dog began to bark. Seconds later, a furry drool-bedecked face pressed against the lower portion of the glass door, his whole butt shaking from how hard he wagged his tail. "What's gotten into you, Dexter?" Tyler muttered. Then he came closer and saw Bones and me on the other side of the glass. Oh HELL no, bolted across his mind. "Is that any way to greet old friends?" Bones asked dryly. Tyler drew his shoulders back, further stretching ther strained fabric of his shirt. "That's not a greeting, sugar. It's my answer to whatever you've come here to ask me to do.

You are my baby boy, furry with four paws and such, tender and cuddly I love you so much! You are loving and sweet and oh such a joy! I'm so very happy that you are my baby boy!

When we passed evergreen pines the shadows became furry as the light gathered and parted their needles like water soaking into a dog's coat.

I submitted entirely to the dog and, as a man with no gift for dancing, I had the feeling that I was able to dance for the first time in my life, secure and without inhibition. Occasionally, we kissed, the dog and I. Woke up feeling extremely satisfied.

Less than an hour ago, you were a big furry dog. I’ve dated worse.

Therapy dogs visit people in nursing homes, hospitals, and wherever else they are needed. They cheer people up who are sad or lonesome and just need a furry friend to hug.

People always say to me "What do you think you'd like to be When you grow up?" And I say, "Why, I think I'd like to be the sky Or be a plane or train or mouse Or maybe a haunted house Or something furry, rough and wild... Or maybe I will stay a child.

It was a silly time to try to make a living out of words, but it was a silly time in general.

In Lovelock's view the earth was a 'super-organism,' a cybernetic feedback system that 'seeks an optimal physical and chemical environment for life on this planet.' At the suggestion of his neighbor, author and screenwriter William Goldman, he called the system Gaia after the ancient Greek Earth goddess.

The full tigers watched him silently. All females. Thankfully. He would be less than happy if he had to take on some territorial male. Well, this little adventure was only going to last through today. As soon as night came, he would get his furry ass out of here. Even if he had to scare some poor security guard to death. Then he would be heading to California. He had some dog butt to kick. Sighing, Nik looked up to find a small child staring at him. A small child busy picking his nose. Could this get any worse? The females stirred restlessly near him and he caught the scent they had. Oh no. Please. Not that. They stood in front of him, completely unaware of his presence and arguing like two ten-year-olds. Nik didn't bother searching for a way out. There was no way out. Those two evil witches trapped him. Trapped him in hell. Throwing up his hands in anger, Alek turned away from Ban, facing the tiger display. Alek's gold eyes stared at Nik for a moment, a frown of confusion pulling his brows down. Then he smiled. And then he just became plain hysterical. Bastard! This wasn't and never would be funny! Ban stared at Alek for several confused moments before catching sight of Nik. As his brothers literally rolled on the ground laughing hysterically--and freaking out all the zoo visitors--Nik seethed

This was my punishment for breaking an oath on the River Styx. Then, from somewhere above us, a voice yelled, ‘Hey, Bronze Butt!’ Over the Colossus’s head, a cloud of darkness formed like a cartoon dialogue bubble. Out of the shadows dropped a furry black monster dog – a hellhound – and astride his back was a young man with a glowing bronze sword. The weekend was here. Percy Jackson had arrived.

Dogs are our true friends, our angels, our teachers, our healers. They love us unconditionally, as God intended. If we look carefully, we can learn from them how to make the world a brighter and better place.

There was a fair mixture of animals in the long building. The dairy cows took up most of the length, then there were a few young heifers, some bullocks and finally, in an empty stall deeply bedded with straw, the other farm dogs. The cats were there too, so it had to be warm. No animal is a better judge of comfort than a cat and they were just visible as furry balls in the straw. They had the best place, up against the wooden partition where the warmth came through from the big animals.

Without a word, my dog taught me the meaning of love.

Absolute devotion to God leads to absolute joy!

Ah, noble dog, you are the furry mirror in which we see our better selves reflected, man as he could be, unstained by war or ambition, unspoilt by—

Life was never meant to be a race, rather a journey—to be enjoyed with God, and shared with those we love. These are the things that make life meaningful, leaving us satisfied, rather than wanting.

Dogs try to do what’s right. Most of them, anyway. And dogs suffer. They’re tormented and starved and abused by people unworthy of them. Who knows what you endured before you found me? My furry warrior.

Gabe watched her move to the center of the green. In one gloved hand, she clutched a leash. The other end of the leash was attached to... something furry and brown that rolled. "What is that?" "That would be mongrel with two lamed hind legs. Apparently, Her Ladyship's friend devised a little chariot for his rear half, and the dog careens around the neighborhood like a yapping billiard ball. If you think that's strange, wait until you see the goat." "Hold a moment. There's a goat?" "Oh, yes. She grazes it on the square every afternoon. Doesn't precisely elevate the atmosphere of Bloom Square, now does it?" "I see the problem." "I'm only getting started. Her Ladyship has single-handedly set us back a month on the improvements." Hammond pulled a collection of letters from a folio. He held one aloft and read from it. "'Dear Mr. Hammond, I must request that you delay completion of the parquet flooring. The fumes from the lacquer are dizzying the hens. Sincerely yours, Lady Penelope Campion.'" He withdrew another. "'Dear Mr. Hammond, I'm afraid your improvements to the mews must be temporarily halted. I've located a litter of newborn kittens in the hayloft. Their mother is looking after them, but as their eyes are not yet open, they should not be displaced for another week. Thank you for your cooperation. Gratefully yours, Lady Penelope Campion.'" Gabe sensed a theme. "Oh, and here's my favorite." Hammond shook open a letter and cleared his throat for dramatic effect. "'Dear Mr. Hammond, if it is not too great an imposition, might I ask that your workers refrain from performing heavy labor between nine o'clock in the morning and half-three in the afternoon? Hedgehogs are nocturnal animals, and sensitive to loud noises. My dear Freya is losing quills. I feel certain this will concern you as much as it does me. Neighborly yours, Lady Penelope Campion.'" He tossed the folio of letters onto the table, where they landed with a smack. "Her hedgehog. Really.

Instead of pursuing happiness, pursue God, and happiness will find you, deep in your soul.

Dogs love us unconditionally, as God intended. If we look carefully, we can learn from them how to make the world a brighter and better place.

Sometimes the world feels cold and lonely, and God's love an ocean away. Then, all of a sudden, we're graced with the sloppy wet kiss of an adorable mutt reminding us how deeply we are loved.

I was struggling to reconcile my scientific research about canine cognition with a set of ideas about the reasons for dogs’ success in human society, which had become widely accepted by the time Ros, Sam, and I brought Xephos home in 2012. These ideas purportedly explained the underpinnings of relationships like the one we were now embarking on with this furry little member of the family.

thousands of men were rushing into the Northland. These men wanted dogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by which to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost. Buck lived at a big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara Valley. Judge Miller’s place, it was called. It stood back from the road, half hidden among the trees, through which glimpses could be caught

animals are often fed mechanically, so their only human contact comes, and this is only in the case of breeder dogs, in the form of artificial insemination and, nine weeks later, a pair of hands snatching babies away. If Dante

Was Chris a man?" Now, there was something to ponder. Was he? He'd been strong and brave, and not stubborn. He'd killed other men, he'd saved other men's lives. He kissed other men. And he'd cried and cried. I closed my eyes. But then the dog said, "What makes a man not a man?" Eyes open, I said, "Kissing another man." "Why?" "Why?" "Yeah. Is there something unkissable about a man?" I smirked at the black and white furry face. "No, stupid. Women kiss men." "Was Chris a man?

...I discovered a small kitten in the garden, which apparently had been abandoned by its mother. I picked it up and noticed that its hind legs were crippled in just the same way as Tsering's were when she died. I took this creature into my house and looked after it until eventually it was able to walk. Like Tsering, she was also female, but very beautiful and even more gentle. She also got along very well with the two dogs, particularly Sangye, against whose furry chest she liked to lie.

I saw one of them fellers she hangs out with, the shapeshifters, run like hell through the Scratches. Right below me. There was a big dog chasin’ him.” “How big was the dog?” Teddy Jo mulled it over. “I’d say as big as a house. A one-story. Maybe a bit bigger. Not as big as one of them colonials, you understand. A regular-person house.” “Would you say the shapeshifter was in distress?” “Hell yeah, he was in distress. His tail was on fire.” “He ran like his tail was on fire?” “No, his tail was on fire. Like a big, furry candle on his ass.

The concept of furry characters (another term for anthropomorphic animals) is relatively new; it was popularized in the 1980s. But art and stories juxtaposing humans and animals can be traced back thousands of years. The ancient Egyptians, for example, had animalistic deities such as Anubis, who had the head of a jackal. Anthropomorphic kimono-clad foxes, raccoons, dogs, cats, and other animals were a recurring subject in classical Japanese uikyo-e artwork. Further historical examples of anthropomorphic animals can be found in Native American mythology and works of literature like Aesop's fables, wherein talking animals took the roles of humans.

As I walked over to her I was engulfed in the thickest headiest smell I had ever experienced, it was sun and it was warmth and it was clean sweetness all distilled together. Nothing on the highlands smelled like that. And the apple, wasn't an apple at all, it's skin wasn't shiney but matte and furry and it was yellow and pink, almost red...I bit into the fruit, it still held the heat of the long day sun and was much softer than an apple...this tasted big and generous and sweeter than anything I'd ever tried...it had a shape that filled your mouth a rounded and warm sweetness that immediately made the saliva run and mix with the juices in anticipation of the next bite. It tasted just like the smell around us but more so. It was like tasting a smile.

Unfortunately, the Hospital Fund Raising Committee, to which Elizabeth was assigned, spent most of its time mired down in petty trivialities and rarely made a decision on anything. In a fit of bored frustration, Elizabeth finally asked Ian to step into their drawing room one day, while the committee was meeting there, and to give them the benefit of his expertise. “And,” she laughingly warned him in the privacy of his study when he agreed to join them, “no matter how they prose on about every tiny, meaningless expenditure-which they will-promise me you won’t point out to them that you could build six hospitals with less effort and time.” “Could I do that?” he asked, grinning. “Absolutely!” She sighed. “Between them, they must have half the money in Europe, yet they debate about every shilling to be spent as if it were coming out of their own reticules and likely to send them to debtors’ gaol.” “If they offend your thrifty sensibilities, they must be a rare group,” Ian teased. Elizabeth gave him a distracted smile, but when they neared the drawing room, where the committee was drinking tea in Ian’s priceless Sevres china cups, she turned to him and added hastily, “Oh, and don’t comment on Lady Wiltshire’s blue hat.” “Why not?” “Because it’s her hair.” “I wouldn’t do such a thing,” he protested, grinning at her. “Yes, you would!” she whispered, trying to frown and chuckling instead. “The dowager duchess told me that, last night, you complimented the furry dog Lady Shirley had draped over her arm.” “Madam, I was following your specific instructions to be nice to the eccentric old harridan. Why shouldn’t I have complimented her dog?” “Because it was a new fur muff of a rare sort, of which she was extravagantly proud.” “There is no fur on earth that mangy, Elizabeth,” he replied with an impenitent grin. “She’s hoaxing the lot of you,” he added seriously. Elizabeth swallowed a startled laugh and said with an imploring look, “Promise me you’ll be very nice, and very patient with the committee.” “I promise,” he said gravely, but when she reached for the door handle and opened the door-when it was too late to step back and yank it closed-he leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Did you know a camel is the only animal invented by a committee, which is why it turned out the way it has?” If the committee was surprised to see the formerly curt and irascible Marquess of Kensington stroll into their midst wearing a beatific smile worth of a choir boy, they were doubtlessly shocked to see his wife’s hands clamped over her face and her eyes tearing with mirth.

At most puppy mills, they pack the dogs into wire cages, usually for the entirety of their lives, often in pitch-black conditions. There are waste collection trays beneath these cages, but they’re rarely emptied. Flies are a constant. With no air-conditioning in the summer and no heat in the winter, dogs freeze to death or die from heatstroke with regularity. During the hottest months, when the cage metal heats up, puppies have been known to cook on the wires. The food is poor and veterinary care infrequent. Open sores, tissue damage, blindness, deafness, ulcers, tooth decay—even rotting jaws because the tooth decay has gotten so bad—are more the rule than the exception.

Dex squinted at the palace. “Their queen is a white-haired lady, right? I think I saw some pictures of her when I was researching about the cameras.” “Yeah, Queen Elizabeth,” Sophie said. “I don’t know much about her. Just that she likes little dogs and wears a lot of hats. And I think that flag means she’s actually here right now.” She pointed to the red, gold, and blue standard flying from a pole in the center of the palace, instead of the British Union Jack. “Same with the fact that there are four of those guys instead of two.” She nudged her chin toward the four members of the queen’s guard, standing stolid and motionless in what appeared to be narrow blue houses. The soldier’s faces looked blank, but Sophie had no doubt their eyes were seeing everything, and it made her hope the obscurer was keeping them hidden—especially when she noticed their guns. “So wait—the dorky guys in the red coats with the big furry hats are important?” Dex asked, covering his mouth to block a giggle. “And you had the nerve to complain about our Foxfire uniforms!” “Hey—I never had to wear anything like that. That’s strictly a British soldier thing!” “Soldier?” Dex repeated, frowning at the guards. “So… is that uniform supposed to be intimidating? Because I feel like if a dude marched up to an army of ogres wearing that, he’d mostly get laughed at.” “Goblins definitely wouldn’t be able to suppress their snickers,” Sandor noted, his lips twitching with a smile.

Excerpt from Storm’s Eye by Dean Gray With a final drag and drop, Jordan Rayne sent his latest creation winging its way toward the publisher. He looked up, squinted at that little clock in the right hand corner of his monitor, and removed his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. His cover art was finished and shipped, just in time for lunch. He sighed and stood, rolling his shoulders and bending side to side, his back cracking in protest as the muscles loosened after having been hunched over the screen for so long. Sam raised his head, tilting it enquiringly at him, and Jordan laughed. “Yeah, I know what you want, some lunch and a nice long walk along the beach, hmm?” Jordan smiled fondly at the furry ball of energy he’d saved from certain death. With his mom’s recent death it was just Sam and him in the house. Sometimes he wondered what kept him here, now that the last thread tethering him to the island was severed. Sam limped over and nuzzled at his hand. When Jordan had first found him out on the main road, hurt and bleeding, he hadn’t been sure the pooch would make it. Taylor, his best friend and the local vet, had done what she could. At the time, Jordan simply didn’t have the deep pockets for the fancy surgery needed to mend Sam’s leg perfectly, he could barely afford the drugs to keep his mom in treatment. So they’d patched him up as well as they could, Taylor extending herself further than he could ever repay, and hoped for the best. The dog had made a startling recovery, urged on by plenty of rest and good food and lots of love, and had flourished, the slight limp now barely noticeable. Jordan’s conscience still twinged as he watched Sam limp over to his dish, but he had barely been keeping things together at the time. He had done the best he could. He’d done his best to find Sam’s real owners as well, papering downtown Bar Harbor with a hand-drawn sketch of the dog, but to no avail. The only thing it had prompted was one kind soul wanting to buy the illustration. But no one had ever come forward to claim the “goldendoodle,” which Taylor had told him was a golden retriever/standard poodle cross. Who had a dog breed like that anyway? Summer people! Jordan shook his head, grinning at the dog’s foolish antics, weaving in and around his legs like he was still a little pup instead of the fifty-pound fuzzball he actually was now. So without meaning to at all, Sam had drifted into Jordan’s life and stayed, a loyal, faithful companion.

Er, hello, Chewie," he said politely. "Woof," the dog said back. "Chewie is a Newfoundland," Beka explained. "They're great water dogs. They swim better than we do, and even have webbed feet. They're often used for water rescue, and the breed started out as working dogs for fishermen." "Uh-huh... Chewie - I guess you named him for Chewbacca in Star Wars. I can see why; they're both gigantic and furry." Beka giggled. "I never thought of that. Actually, Chewie is short for Chudo-Yudo. Also, he chews on stuff a lot, so it seemed fitting." "Chudo what?" Marcus said. The dog made a snuffling sound that might have been canine laughter. "Chudo-Yudo," Beka repeated. "He's a character out of Russian fairy tales, the dragon that guards the Water of Life and Death. You never heard of him?" Marcus shook his head. "My father used to tell the occasional Irish folk tale when I was a kid, but I'm not familiar with Russian ones at all. Sorry." "Oh, don't be," she said cheerfully. "Most of them were pretty gory, and they hardly ever had happy endings." "Right." Marcus looked at the dog, who gazed alertly back with big brown eyes, as if trying to figure out if the former Marine was edible or not. "So, you named him after a mythical dragon from a depressing Russian story. Does anyone get eaten in that story, just out of curiosity?" Chewie sank down onto the floor with a put-upon sigh, and Beka shook her head at Marcus. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course people got eaten. But don't worry. Chewie hasn't taken a bite out of anyone in years. He's very mellow for a dragon.

But I knew this much: how could anyone with half a brain would want to live in a vast, cold place like Russia which was controlled by a few old farts in furry hats and where everyone was barred from owning his own house and having personal possessions, in a barren land without jazz, without Marilyn Monroe (I had become a huge fan after seeing Gentlemen Prefer Blondes), without Studebakers and skyscrapers, without Maria Callas (yes, she was born in New York, U.S.A.) and hot dogs (without ketchup)

Emmy loves every aspect of mowing – the shoes, the rev of the engine, the pats on her furry head, chasing sticks and getting extra attention – but most of all, she loves the company. I seldom enjoy mowing – it is tedious, and often hot and grueling – but thanks to our dog Emmy, I do love one thing about it, the joy it brings to each other! – David Warren in the story My Dog Mows Best

She felt her whole body relax when the puppy turned crescent-shaped with glee and wiggled into her palm. She wished she could inject the furry oxytocin hit into her veins like a junkie. Thank God for puppies.

Healing Anger If you loathe and feel ashamed of your anger, try using imagery to change your relationship with it, transforming it from a dangerous, hateful monster to a gentle, helpless animal, a creature you can love and manage. For example, practice imagining that your anger is a furry dog with big, sweet eyes. (Sound silly? Try it anyway!) Whenever you hear your anger yowling, instead of raging at it, hating it, and stuffing it into a tiny cage, put him on a leash and take him outside for a walk. Speak to him soothingly and kindly in a voice you’d use with someone you love.

As we slipped along over the hard-crusted snow, I watched my little gang of eight. Their furry ears turned backward to help keep the wind out. Their thick, bushy tails hung loosely, and their tough little padded feet moved lightly along. Even at twenty below, their coats keep them comfortably warm. Their tongues hung out just a tad to help them cool off. They where relaxed and happy, and watching them work was a beautiful sight.

Henry spoke to Dog. “Hinananjin.” Dog went over and sat beside him. It had already been established that the furry brute was conversant in Cheyenne, Shoshone, Arapaho, Crow, and Lakota; English was the language he chose to sometimes ignore.

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Idyllic is how Kundera describes human relationships with animals. Idyllic, because animals were not expelled with us from paradise. There they remain untroubled by such complications as the separation of body and soul. And it’s through our love and friendship with them that we are able to reconnect to paradise, albeit by just a thread. Others go further. Dogs are not just merely untouched by evil. They are celestial beings. Angels incarnate. Furry guardian spirits sent to watch over and help people live.

Just one moment, then.” She stopped in front of the inner door. “Something is going to happen now. Are you easily frightened?” He couldn’t puzzle out her expression. “Frightened?” Good God, what was this woman going to show him? Could all this secrecy and worry be justified after all? She opened the door and a tiny, furry thing rushed out, claws scrabbling on the polished floorboards. To his shame, Ramsey flinched. As though door and mouth were somehow connected, once released the tiny, furry thing began to bark. It had the voice of a much larger animal. “Misha is very fierce,” she said, and he realized that she had been fighting back a smile. “However, he is not as terrifying as he looks.” She slid through and the door closed behind her, leaving him alone with the small, bat-eared dog, who darted back and forth just out of Ramsey’s reach, emitting loud noises of loathing and distrust.

We make an odd couple—a big, burly trucker with a small, furry dog—but she’s the only other living being I can trust.

As it turns out, what makes a dog adoptable has very little to do with dogs, a great deal to do with humans.

One of the good things about cats is that, unlike dogs, they don’t come up to you in the street and try to have sex with your leg.

So the Ukraine came to resemble “one vast Belsen.” 93 A population of “walking corpses” struggled to survive on a diet of roots, weeds, grass, bark and furry catkins.94 They devoured dogs, cats, snails, mice, ants, earth-worms. They boiled up old skins and ground down dry bones. They even ate horse-manure for the whole grains of seed it contained. Cannibalism became so commonplace that the OGPU received a special directive on the subject from Moscow and local authorities issued hundreds of posters announcing that “EATING DEAD CHILDREN IS BARBARISM.” 95 Some peasants braved machine-guns in desperate assaults on grain stockpiles. Others robbed graves for gold to sell in Torgsin shops. Parents unable to feed their offspring sent them away from home to beg. Cities such as Kiev, Kharkov, Dnepropetrovsk, Poltava, Odessa and Belgorod were overrun by pathetic waifs with huge heads, stunted limbs and swollen bellies. Arthur Koestler said that they “looked like embryos out of alcohol bottles.” 96

The Dog Killer in Your Pocket Here’s another danger that might surprise you Just as dog owners often don’t realize their canine friends are too heavy, they may have a blind spot about another threat. Surprisingly, the lowly penny can become a lethal weapon against dogs—specifically pennies minted after 1982. Although all pennies are equal in value—one cent, no matter what year it is—their compositions are not. Pennies that were produced between 1962 and 1982 are predominantly copper (95 percent), whereas pennies churned out in 1982 and after are mostly zinc (97.5 percent). Zinc is an essential mineral but is undesirable in excessive amounts. When pennies meet the acid in a dog’s stomach, the zinc gets released rapidly, which can destroy red blood cells and, in turn, lead to a number of debilitating conditions, including kidney or liver damage.

I think about you when I’m alone,” I whispered. Cooper’s expression sent me into hysterics. Everything from horny boy to shock to joyous relief got stuck into one weird facial expression. Even after I was laughing, he seemed unable to respond. “You’re a wicked little bitch, aren’t you?” he finally said, adjusting in his chair. “Stop calling me a bitch.” “I call everyone that. My sisters, my dogs even the male ones, my brother, my Harleys. I called a squirrel a bitch yesterday. To be fair, the little furry bitch had it coming.” Laughing behind my hand, I finally settled down and returned to eating. “I don’t masturbate. What’s it like?” Cooper spit out his soda then glared at me. “You timed that.” “Yes, I did. It’s not fun having someone mess with you, is it?” “Oh, it’s on. Since you asked, masturbating is a great stress releaser. You know what else is?” “Is this going to make me vomit?” “Probably,” he said, laughing. “Yeah, I should wait until you finish eating. Dry heaves are the worst.” Chewing and laughing, I struggled not to choke.

So where are you two headed?” Linc put the kitten down. Tiny tail waving, it sauntered between Truck’s furry legs. The dog didn’t seem to mind. “Oh--out and about,” Kenzie said. She and Linc exchanged a look. “You tell him,” he said. “We stopped by to see Christine first. You were next on the list.” “Beg pardon? What list?” “Friends and family.” Kenzie stretched out her left hand and wiggled her fingers. An oval diamond set in platinum caught the sun. Jim’s eyes widened. “Way to go.” He beamed at both of them. “That’s one hell of a rock. You didn’t waste any time.” He gave Linc a nod of masculine approval. “So when’s the big day?” “We haven’t decided,” Kenzie answered. She didn’t want to say that they were keeping a low profile for as long as possible. The media furor over SKC had died down, but they were helping with the ongoing investigation. Life went on. Love had amazing power to heal. Truck picked up on the excitement and edged between the three of them, blocking the hug about to happen. “Routine stuff, Linc. He has final say,” Jim teased. The black-and-white dog took his time about it. Then he sat down in front of Linc, brushing his tail across the floor in wide waves. “He approves,” Kenzie said. “Never argue with a good dog.” Jim laughed. “All right, you two. Get out of here. I have work to do.” Kenzie got a hug in before he went back to his desk. “Congratulations.” He nodded toward the picture of his wife. “From me and Josie. She’ll be over the moon when she hears.

Jim Biggers looked down at the puppy playing tug-of-war with one of his bootlaces. “Quit it,” he growled, gently shaking it off. The puppy yapped and scampered away, bumping into Truck’s furry side and bouncing off. The big dog didn’t bat an eye, but he raised his head when he heard a car door slam outside. Another puppy tumbled off his back as he got up. Jim rose too, looking out the window. “She’s here,” he announced, throwing down his pencil. In another minute Kenzie and Linc walked in. One of the puppies ran to her and she squatted down to say hi. “Oh my gosh. You are so cute!” “I can’t compete,” Jim grumbled to Linc. The puppy yapped and ran away. Kenzie went around to the other side of the desk to kiss her boss on the cheek. “Sorry.” Jim grinned. “You’re forgiven. How are you doing, Linc?” He’d noticed that the younger man was still limping. There wasn’t any need to mention it specifically. “Better every day, thanks. How did Truck get stuck with babysitting?” “I promised him half a steak,” Jim said. “He fell for it.” An eager puppy chomped down hard on Truck’s ear, then put his head and paws down in play position, wagging his stubby tail. “Poor Truck,” Kenzie said sympathetically. She looked back to Jim. “Why are they here? I mean, they’re cute but way too young to start with us.” “Merry Jenkins is fostering them for me. But she’s gone for the next two days, so I have them. It’s been fun. I’m seeing plenty of potential.” He glanced at the floor, frowning. “And a few puddles.” He unrolled several sheets from the paper towel dispenser on his desk and let them drift to the floor. A puppy pounced on the white stuff and dragged it away. Jim rolled his eyes. He unrolled more paper towels, and this time he put his boot down on them. “I can’t wait to come back full-time,” Kenzie said. “When you’re ready. Not a minute before,” Jim said sternly. “Everything’s under control. No rush.” Linc looked down. “Am I seeing things?” A tiny kitten was clawing its way up his jeans. Jim harrumphed. “That’s a stray. Buddy and Wells started feeding it, and now it won’t go away.” “Aww,” Kenzie exclaimed. “It’s adorable.” Linc detached the kitten from his front pocket and held it up. The warmth of his hands calmed it, but only for a minute. The kitten stared at him, bug-eyed, then batted at his nose. “Doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything.” “Reminds me of Kenzie. I guess I’ll have to keep it. So where are you two headed?” Linc put the kitten down. Tiny tail waving, it sauntered between Truck’s furry legs. The dog didn’t seem to mind.

With practice, you began to recognize entire words by themselves. C-A-T became simply cat, thanks to a mental representation that encoded the pattern of the letters in that word and associated that pattern with both the sound of the word and the idea of a small, furry animal that meows and often doesn’t get along well with dogs. Along

To get around these things, Maus lived at the back of a closet. The door was

According to the official numbers, shelters take in somewhere between six million and eight million dogs and cats every year and euthanize about half of them. And this is an improvement. While it was back in the 1970s that the HSUS began trying to raise awareness

of the benefits of spaying and neutering, it wasn’t until the 1990s that their catchy tag line, “Less born, less killed, less cruelty,” really caught on. In the 1980s, shelters were euthanizing twenty million animals each year. But then birth rates dropped and admission rates dropped, and today, while the three to four million animals they kill annually is a slaughter, it’s also a significant improvement over the massacre that came before.

There wasn’t anything wrong with these dogs. I wanted to take them all home with me. The whole damn warehouse of misery. Just strap it to my back and get the fuck out of the way.

The next morning I woke up with a furry lump pressed against my chest, its butt right under my chin.  Before I could move, a toxic cloud of dog fart floated into my face.  Barbeque sauce scented dog

The gifts of bravery, devotion, and love from a dog inspire and humble mankind.

Where’s the pizza?” Something warm and furry came and leaned against my right leg. I reached down to pet Rocky, a black lab who was going gray around his eyes and muzzle. “Rocky wants to know where the pizza is, too.” “He’s the reason the food is in the kitchen. Last time we kept it out here on the picnic table, he helped himself to half of a large bacon pepperoni pizza and then he threw up in my mom’s closet. She was cleaning dog barf out of her shoes for days.” I squatted down and rubbed Rocky’s ears. “I bet you were framed, huh, buddy?” He leaned into the ear rub and sighed. “I bet it was the cat, wasn’t it?” He sighed again like he was agreeing with me. “Nice try, but there isn’t that much barf in a cat,” Trevor said.

Charles, a footman who had once worked on his father's farm and who loved animals, appeared and came over to help her prepare dishes of boiled chicken and brown rice for the cats and dogs waiting eagerly at their feet. When guests were staying, Charles often assisted with the care of her furry brood. Without asking, he set to work, even taking a few moments to gather fresh meat scraps for Aeolus, her wounded hawk, and cut-up apple and beetroots for Poppy, a convalescing rabbit who had an injured leg. He gave her several more apple quarters for the horses, who got jealous if she didn't bring them treats as well. Once all her cats and dogs were fed, Esme set off for the stables, laden pail in hand, Burr trotting at her heels. She stopped along the way to chat with the gardener and his assistant, who gave her some timothy grass, comfrey and lavender to supplement the hay she regularly fed Poppy.

While dogs were a hole to sink money into, they were also more fun than a barrel of monkeys. There is nothing quite like hooking up a team of dogs who are raring to go. They bark and dance and just can’t wait. When you finally pull the hook and they take off at full speed (probably 25 miles an hour), there is a swish of sled runners and the wind in your face. Perhaps six furry behinds running ahead like a house afire. It is wonderful. You charge out into the boreal forest where there are no human sounds; no roads, no TVs, no nothing but you and your dogs and your wits.

They wolfed wolfly in the wolf den.

This is where I belong, the sigh clearly said, and it so touched Gerda that she would make no effort to dislodge her furry daughter.

Pip lived with his loving family in a cozy home, where he spent his days exploring and playing to his heart's content.

Of course the rabbits must be killed, as they are good food for man, and the land would be overrun with them if they were not destroved; still we cannot but regret that putting them to death should give delight rather than pain. Dogs know no better than to take pleasure in worrying and killing the furry creatures that cannot defend themselves; but kind-hearted children will never enjoy such cruel sport. They would say, “You tell us the poor rabbits must be destroyed; but we have watched them frisking for joy in the twilight, and we would rather not see them die.

JADE: then i guess thats what we are! JADE: semipotent demigods JOHN: demidogs. JADE: woof woof woof! JADE: dammit!!!!!! JOHN: heh... JOHN: can you not control the woofs? JADE: i havent gotten the hang of the woofs yet :( JOHN: so, the dog ears... JOHN: is that a permanent thing now, or what? JADE: i think so JOHN: i like them. JADE: i do too! JOHN: you are like a furry now, but not really the weird kind that people on the internet like to have sex with in their imagination. JADE: D:

Max stood on his hind legs and pawed at Liam's chest, tail wagging, furry face nuzzling until Liam stood and lifted him into his arms. Max licked his face and Liam's tension eased. He won't know that Max is a very special dog. "He sure likes you," Daisy's neighbor said. "He's not usually that friendly with strangers." "I'm not a stranger.

My mind flashes back to the Shadow Garden years ago, to the pangs of envy in my stomach as I watched Sebastian and Lucia before growing a flower with my hands. I recall the overpowering grief spilling out of me the night I created the ball of fire, the desperate yearning for my mother a few weeks ago when I grew a rose, my longing for Sebastian when I changed the colors in the Maze. Heightened emotion. That must be the trigger to my gift. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing my thoughts away from the fire in this room and back to the nightclub in Windsor. Swaying in Sebastian's arms, my head nestled beneath his chin, our faces nearly meeting--- My eyes fly open as the sizzling sensation returns to my hands. I watch win awe as tiny cracks begin to form in my fingertips--and water comes sprouting from them. Teddy howls in shock as I move may hands over the wastebasket, the water from my fingers extinguishing the fire, until all that remains is a smoky aftermath. Teddy leaps into my arms, licking my face in relief. "We're okay, buddy. We're okay." I hold his furry little body close, and after setting him down, I stare at my hands in wonder. They've returned to normal. the cracks are gone. What I've just done is completely insane... but also a miracle.

The tala dogs were massive, their shoulders reaching Kira's chest. Armored plates protected their vital spots and tusks curled out from their mouth as furry ears pricked and rotated as they communicated with each other.

For her trained response, I naively let Keb pick a behavior that seemed to come naturally for her: a “jump alert.” To my enduring dismay, this evolved into a full-on body slam, as Keb started her jump five feet from me and would impact my body as a small furry missile.

You’re not out of the doghouse yet, you know…” “That’s good,” I say as images of four-legged furry creatures fill my mind, “because we don’t even f’teeing know what dogs are.

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Up to this time everybody had moved on tiptoe about the sick-room, and had talked in undertones. But Jock was no respecter of silence. He gamboled and barked to his heart’s content. Partly amused and partly annoyed by his bumptiousness, Klyda found herself for the first time unable to sink at will into that dreamy apathy of hers. It is hard to dream, when a tiny furry whirlwind is charging at one or is professing to believe that one’s white fingers are a mortal foe to be nibbled and threatened.

That won’t be a problem, will it, Sheriff Collins?” Isaiah asked. He grinned, his attempt at a beard made him look like he had mange. “You keep your attack dog over there with your furry friend, and I’ll be happy to pay you with a good time.” He reached down with his free hand and wiggled his belt buckle suggestively. Ryan made a face at the suggestion. “You bring a babysitter with you?” Millie ‘the attack dog’, asked.

Whether you are a proud dog owner or just love the furry creatures, dog themed clothing humans has become an increasingly popular trend in the fashion industry.

There were a couple of Bowie twins from Hatfield in Hertfordshire. They were both tall and razor thin, and looked like a slightly more exaggerated version of David Bowie on the cover of Young Americans. Their hair was even more exaggerated: deep red with bleached streaks through the front, but also with pink highlights cascading over their eyes, and slicked back at the sides. Pencil-thin dark plucked eyebrows, very pale complexions, with black mascara. They always wore the shiniest black or red plastic dungarees. Outside the club they would wear these slightly furry leopard-skin bomber jackets, which I thought looked great. They had a mad, slurry way of talking, and kind of shouted and talked at the same time. They would jump from one subject to another in mid-sentence. They were very unusual people. Every second line was ‘Never mind the bollocks.’ They would say that three hundred times a night. Everything was ‘Never mind the bollocks.’ I know for a fact that the Sex Pistols got the name for their album from the twins. They both earned a living selling hot dogs. One worked on Charing Cross Road, the other down by Trafalgar Square. They were mad. If you stopped to talk to them, they would always be arguing with someone. Man or woman, they always had the same line: ‘Now listen, sweetheart: never mind the bollocks.

See, squirrel cats, with their tubby feline bodies, big bushy tails, coats that change colour depending on their mood and furry flaps that stretch between their front and back limbs enabling them to glide from the treetops (or ‘fly as well as any gods-damned falcon’ as Reichis would insist), can – if you stare at them, squinty-eyed, from a distance and preferably through a drunken haze – look almost cute. They’re not. Puppy dogs are cute. Bunny rabbits are cute. Poisonous Berabesq sand rattlers are cute to somebody. Squirrel cats, though? Not cute. Evil.

We are a family owned business located in Riverside which has met the needs of thousands of happy pets to the delight of their owners. For several decades, we have been on a mission to pamper Riverside pets with the very best possible in the comfort of their own homes.Our family and associates are well acquainted with the stress your furry family members encounter when they are brought into a strange place. We want to provide the very best with the very least amount of pressure, for both pet and owner possible. That's why we decided to create our business.

But I don’t understand,” she said. “Why have you been following me all over the world? Why didn’t you just approach me before?” “I’ve wanted to,” he confessed. “But I kept chickening out. I meant to in Frankfurt, but then you spotted me and I lost my nerve. I didn’t want you to think I was some sort of creepy stalker.” “God forbid,” Eliot muttered. Larry looked nervously at Eliot. “Then your bodyguard took off after me and I just panicked. And then there was that scary blonde in the dog costume…” “Scary?” Parker reacted, her indignation coming through Sophie’s earbud loud and clear. “I was adorable.” “My personal assistant,” Sophie explained. “She’s a furry.

I- Karly takes their fingers in me when I masturbate, just thought you would like to know. Jenny and boy, we-we’s she takes them all, sometimes she has two going in the same whole, two boys in there rubbing their crap seem guy to me even if it’s a three-way. Maybe… all of this is not what I wanted to be remembered for. I guess what I am saying is, I wanted to be remembered for how I have- ‘Fallen to You!’ However, before I kicked the bucket… I did think of Ray, or anyone- or another boy. No one is other than my selfish self. The clueless girl I was, living for the now, and not the happily ever after! Hell no…! I did not think about that. I did not think about all the dangerous, shocking, and even offensive things I have done with my friends. I did not even think about my family, like if they would even care about me being or not being around. Nope, I was too busy sucking off chill dogs and running around silly doing honorable things. I did not even think about my adorable girly bedroom, and how the sun shined silky waves of light, in the window. Besides, how it woke me up as my days started. I did not think about the soft and cozy things in that room either, or the selfie photograph of me, and Ray kissing sitting on my night table. I did not think about how you can smell the rain rolling in on a spring day, as the window was open, or feel the chill in the air as I stood by it in the middle of December. ‘Oh, let the sun beat down on my face, and let the sounds caress my ears, I have been blind!’ I do not think about all the smells and feelings of food and family coming from down the steps or in the home at all. I completely ignored everything and it all just to be the cool girl. Instead, I thought of Jenny and Maddie back in the third grade how we used to play kickball and miss in our gym class. I also thought about that girl that no one liked too that no one wanted on the team including me. I think her name was Madilyn, I remember this because I was the last one to pick, and she looked so sad and I did not say anything as she sat crying in the grass picking yellow dandelions the whole class. I was such an ass for my friends. I guess that guilt gets you at some point. I member how they and I said she was too weird and disgusting to play with us, and that she could not see what she was doing, because of her blue-eyed four- eyes. Meaning her glass on the fragile flushed face. I guess I get to be friends with these girls because they were what I wanted to be. I was not always friends with them I remember from second grade and back. Yes, I was just like her before, I joined their team. I would have done anything to be one of them, which is what I did. ‘Look at the little freak over there sitting’ Jenny said, and we all giggled. ‘Let’s kick our balls in her face, so she runs off crying for her mommy again like before.’ And that is what we all did; the goal was to break her glass of her face. ‘Like she is not even going to try to move said Maddie.’ BAM smack one! BAM smack two…! Me- direct hit- BAM! Furthermore, she goes running away just the way we wanted! Jenny always found a way of making us snicker at the dumbest crap, like that. I- we- never forget that girl’s face! Red with pain, and dripping with her tears, dandelions in hand that she picked for us. Just so, we would like her! That all faded away from me. Just like the furry white ball of seeds that blows away as she rains inside. I can’t believe that is what, I remembered! This was more my beforehand death instant when I was theoretic Madilyn meant to be having some kind of vast revelation about my past. My moment froze like in time to the recollections of the slight of nail polish, and the squeak of my white dollar store flats as I walked on the waxed high school floor. The tightness of my skinny blue jeans, with one of my lacey junior’s nine-dollar Walmart thongs.

Lord Byron kept a pet bear in his Trinity College dorm room. He was told that dogs were strictly banned from the campus, so he brought along a different furry friend.

Some consider the mind of a cat a most undecipherable thing, a quagmire of selfish ambitions and impenetrable mysteries. True, the beasts don’t understand all human speech, or comprehend such intricate life enhancements as catalytic converters, microwave popcorn, or rabbit ear antennas. They don’t need to. God blessed them with far more efficient paths of communication. And it is also true that cats don’t devote themselves to servitude and submission to a human’s every whim, like dogs, for example. That’s also unnecessary. They can survive on their own, thank you very much. True, many bond to humans when it suits their purpose – or, like Sebastian, when it is ordained, because the “hairless giants,” as cats see humans, could not develop as He wills without a feline influence. But in most cases, a cat will cling to independence, as guaranteed all their kind by the Doctrine of Grakk-koth long, long, long ago. Yes, that long.

It's just gonna be a bunch of nekkid Werewolves dancing around and then going all furry," Granny said as she downplayed the magical ceremony and patted Dwayne's head like a dog. "But that sounds like fun," he moped. "I want to get naked and furry too." "Dude," I reminded him and I joined in on the petting. "You're a Vampyre. You don't shift." "I know that," he said with an eye roll. "But I have a fabu faux fur coat that I could slip into after the naked dance.

To deliver a breakthrough fix, however, you must often go beyond just remembering the small stuff; you have to see it in a fresh light. This is how many game-changing inventions come about. In 1941 a Swiss engineer named Georges de Mestral returned from a hunting trip in the Alps to find burrs from a burdock plant all over his socks and his dog’s coat. But instead of just yanking off the sticky, furry balls without a second thought, as hikers have done for generations, he put them under a microscope, where he noticed hundreds of tiny hooks designed to attach to any surface with loops, such as clothing. De Mestral suddenly saw burrs in a way no one had before—and used that fresh insight to invent Velcro.

God of Wonder Praise the Lord! How good it is to sing praises to our God! How delightful and how right! The Lord is rebuilding Jerusalem and bringing the exiles back to Israel. He heals the brokenhearted, binding up their wounds. He counts the stars and calls them all by name. How great is our Lord! His power is absolute! His understanding is beyond comprehension! Psalm 147:1-5 I loved seeing my little grandson Noah as he watched snowflakes twirling from the sky, patted our dog’s black, furry coat, and later folded his hands and bowed his red head to say thank you to God for his peanut butter sandwich. He is aware and alive, and his wonder was contagious. Kids are full of wonder, amazement, and awe. Many of us adults, however, have lost our sense of wonder and awe. So God gives us psalms such as this one. They draw us from our ho-hum existence that takes such things as rainbows, snowflakes, and sunrises for granted back to a childlike wonder of our great God who fills the sky with clouds, sends the snow like white wool, and hurls hail like stones. He created everything and possesses all power yet cares for the weak and brokenhearted. He calls the stars by name yet supports the humble. He reigns over all creation yet delights in the simple, heartfelt devotion of those who trust him. His understanding is beyond human comprehension. Surely a God like this can inspire our wonder and awe! Meditate today on the amazing greatness of God, and find your own words to sing his praise.   GOD OF WONDER, I am in awe of your creation, your power, and your compassion. I sing out my praise to you. Your understanding is beyond comprehension! Your power is absolute! How good it is to sing praises to my God! How delightful and how right! Praise the Lord!   RECEIVE EVERY DAY AS A RESURRECTION FROM DEATH, AS A NEW ENJOYMENT OF LIFE. . . . LET YOUR JOYFUL HEART PRAISE AND MAGNIFY SO GOOD AND GLORIOUS A CREATOR. William Law (1686-1761)

Clicker: A small handheld device that makes a distinct clicking sound when pressed. It is used to mark a desirable behavior,