Category: Critters

News from the Animal Kingdom

GIVE TIL IT HURTS!

Hero in a grey hoodie

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They don’t always wear brightly-colored tights and a cape, you know.

A Man Who Mows Lawns For Free Saved A Cat Sanctuary From Shutting Down
Today’s good news story comes from Corpus Christi, Texas.

In a heartwarming turn of events, Spencer, a dedicated man from SB Mowing who cuts overgrown lawns for free, recently found himself at the center of an extraordinary rescue mission.

Spencer, known for cleaning up neglected properties across the country and sharing his work on social media, stumbled upon an injured cat while on the job, leading to the revival of an entire cat sanctuary.

While clearing the overgrown lawn, Spencer discovered a severely injured cat hidden deep in the grass. The cat had an infected abscess under its arm and was unable to move.

“He seemed like he was ready to lay there until he passed away from infection,” Spencer recalled. Desperate to help, Spencer contacted several places, but none were willing to take the cat in.

His persistence paid off when he reached out to Edgar and Ivy’s Cat Sanctuary. The sanctuary, specializing in the care of injured, hurt, and abused cats, agreed to take the cat in and provide the necessary medical treatment. Moved by their kindness, Spencer decided to launch a GoFundMe campaign to support the sanctuary, aiming to raise $10,000.

Anissa Beal, the director of Edgar and Ivy’s, revealed that the sanctuary was on the brink of closure. “He said, ‘Maybe I can get you $10,000 or something.’ And I said, ‘That would be life-changing,'” Beal said. The sanctuary had been struggling financially, with Beal spending half of her income to keep it running. She had been praying for a sign to continue her work.

The response to Spencer’s campaign was overwhelming. Since sharing the GoFundMe link with his millions of followers, over $187,000 has been raised for Edgar and Ivy’s Cat Sanctuary. Additionally, four Amazon trucks loaded with donations arrived at the sanctuary, providing much-needed supplies.

“It was a miracle, and it makes me emotional to think that so many people could care about us and about this cat and what we’re doing,” Beal expressed. “I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and that it’s not true. This is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.”

Go watch the embedded video at the end of the piece to learn how very much dust there is floating around in your home-office or computer room; there’s bound to be a lot more of it than you suspect—enormous eye-stinging clouds of it, in fact. Be sure to have a family-size box of Kleenex close at hand when you do, that’s my advice.

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Government playing God

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YET AGAIN, that is.

To save spotted owls, US officials plan to kill hundreds of thousands of another owl species
To save the imperiled spotted owl from potential extinction, U.S. wildlife officials are embracing a contentious plan to deploy trained shooters into dense West Coast forests to kill almost a half-million barred owls that are crowding out their cousins.

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service strategy released Wednesday is meant to prop up declining spotted owl populations in Oregon, Washington state and California. The Associated Press obtained details in advance.

Documents released by the agency show up to about 450,000 barred owls would be shot over three decades after the birds from the eastern U.S. encroached into the West Coast territory of two owls: northern spotted owls and California spotted owls. The smaller spotted owls have been unable to compete with the invaders, which have large broods and need less room to survive than spotted owls.

Past efforts to save spotted owls focused on protecting the forests where they live, sparking bitter fights over logging but also helping slow the birds’ decline. The proliferation of barred owls in recent years is undermining that earlier work, officials said.

“Without actively managing barred owls, northern spotted owls will likely go extinct in all or the majority of their range, despite decades of collaborative conservation efforts,” said Fish and Wildlife Service Oregon state supervisor Kessina Lee.

The notion of killing one bird species to save another has divided wildlife advocates and conservationists. It’s reminiscent of past government efforts to save West Coast salmon by killing sea lions and cormorants that prey on the fish, and to preserve warblers by killing cowbirds that lay eggs in warbler nests.

“The Fish and Wildlife Service is turning from protector of wildlife to persecutor of wildlife,” said Wayne Pacelle, founder of the advocacy group Animal Wellness Action. He predicted the program would fail because the agency won’t be able to keep more barred owls from migrating into areas where others have been killed.

The shootings would likely begin next spring, officials said. Barred owls would be lured using megaphones to broadcast recorded owl calls, then shot with shotguns. Carcasses would be buried on site.

Sick, arrogant fucks. But don’t any of you Serf Class oafs be getting any bright ideas from this, mmmkay?

Public hunting of barred owls wouldn’t be allowed. The wildlife service would designate government agencies, landowners, American Indian tribes or companies to carry out the killings. Shooters would have to provide documentation of training or experience in owl identification and firearm skills.

Oh goodie, I feel better already! I’m confident it will all work out a-okay—y’know, just like every other one of their meddlesome, half-baked schemes has— now that I know that goobermint-vetted “experts” are involved. There DOES seem to be one other tiny, minor little problem though.

But there is more to this story than the “old growth” fabrication. Another misrepresentation is that the northern spotted owl is a unique species at all.

Endangered “northern spotted owls” are a “sub-species” of spotted owls, which means they are, in fact, the same species as California spotted owls and Mexican spotted owls, which also live on the west coast. Their difference is that geographic distance and separation have caused some differences in plumage and appearance. To call these spotted owls a different “sub-species” is like stating that Norwegians, Koreans, and Nigerians are different subspecies of homo sapiens. The notion of bird “sub-species” is actively rejected by many in the ornithology community.

This research piece from the Cooper Ornithological Society makes it rather clear that the spotted owl is all one species, noting that the northern spotted owl’s identifying features are based on a specimen from Puget Sound in Washington, while the California spotted owl is based on one from Southern California, but the identifying features of spotted owls gradually morph between the two locations.

In summary, two great lies are at the root of the environmental damage that has been done in the name of the spotted owl: 1) That logging was responsible for their decreasing spotted owl population in the Pacific Northwest; and 2) That there is even such a species as the “northern spotted owl.”

But hundreds of thousands of barred owls are now going to be killed in perpetuation of these lies. Considering that the “green,” anti-carbon advocates of the wind industry defend the senseless killing of millions of eagles, raptors, and migratory birds as a necessary religious sacrament, this proposed owl slaughter is consistent with the 21st Century environmental movement.

Ummm…OOOPS! Well, hey, ya wins some and ya loses some, I reckon. After all, it’s really the thought that counts, right?

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Rat Rods!!!

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Via WeirdDave, this may not be the entire reason why Twitter video exists, but it’s for damn sure and certain one of the best.


In case you’re unsure of exactly what you’re seeing here, what it is is real science, by and for real people (and, well, rats), not government-owned eggheads in labs coats afflicted by a grossly over-inflated sense of their own importance. I’ve watched this four times already, and I know I ain’t done watching it yet—probably never will be, in all honesty. This guy’s dad is a pure-tee genius. I just can’t stop laughing.

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Devastated, distraught, destroyed

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Posting for tonight (maybe longer, it’s too early to say) is gonna be delayed a bit, due to the awful fact that, after getting back home from a long afternoon of schlepping my brother around all over CLT on a quest for Freightshaker parts, I found one of my feline foursome, Mr Bunny Fluffster—so named by my daughter Madeleine because, even not long after he was born, she noted he had, and I quote, “big bunny feet!” Plus, he was, y’know, fluffy—which he still is, actually, although he did eventually grow those big ol’ bunny feet of his into proper proportion with the rest of him.

He must have gotten out through this open vent hole in Madeleine’s bedroom closet, I figger. Usually the door to that room stays closed, but as she was here over the weekend it’s been open; we had covered that vent hole with doubled-up cardboard and Gorilla tape, but either the tape let go—unlikely, I think, since Gorilla tape has never failed me before—or the cats worried at it and worried at it until it finally gave up the ghost.

Either way, my sweet little Bunny-boy is outside in the cold, where he has never been before, and I’m worried sick about him. So I’ll be headed to the front door, where I set out a small dish of dry food and water for him, and calling for him every few minutes, probably all night long unless by some miracle he shows up before too long. So if posting here is tardy or even nonexistent, well, now you know why.

My blog-bud KT ran a pic of baby Bun-Bun on the AoSHQ Pet Thread a while back, one of my all-time favorite kitteh pictures; in the photo, Bun is the grey and white bicolor kitten in the driver’s seat, with his brother Sluggo sprawled out on the hood.

Cute little booger, no? Here’s one taken just last week, of my two good boys cuddled up together on the bed as sister Precious wonders what the heck is going on.

All four feline Musketeers were born five years ago on Easter Sunday; their mama, Fearless, was probably nabbed by a coyote just after they’d been weaned. There was a fifth kitten in the litter, which was adopted by Brack’s little sis Lauren and is living large with her and her husband Jem.

Although it might seem sort of a trivial thing to be bothering the Almighty with, you better believe I’ve been sending up the prayers for Bunny’s safe return in job lots over the past hour or so. You critter lovers will readily understand my anguish; non-critter people never will.

The power of prayer update! YESSS YESYESYESYESYES!!! After Barry’s comments-section suggestion to put some wet food outside to entice him, I set the two-chambered dish he and Precious eat their evening wet-food treat from (with his side still full, natch) out by the door with the other goodies. A bit over a half-hour passes, and I go to call for him again. This time, Sluggo and Precious were sitting at the door so close their noses were practically touching the glass, tails switching madly back and forth: clearly, there was something out there that had caught their attention completely. 

I roll up, open the door, and lo! All the wet food, all the dry food, and about half the water were gone! Fearing it might have been et by a damned raccoon or some other neighborhood outdoor cat, I started calling for Bun one more time, still not daring to hope. Then: a scratchy, soft little “meow” from off to the right side of the deck that I knew could have but one source! Sure enough, Bun-Bun hopped onto the deck from the right, took a long, yearning look at his joyously-relieved Daddy, then looked past me through the open door where all the warm was, as well as his three anxious siblings gathered behind me. I backed out of the doorway, called to him again, and hey presto! He dashed back home to us.

After the four-legged chums had all touched noses in glorious reunion, Bunny-boy beelined for the dry food dish and ate his fill while I sat by and rubbed his back, shoulders, and head, that internal cat-motor running smooth as fine silk. I could maybe be more delighted, but at the moment I sure don’t see how. Barry, many, many thanks for the suggestion, it sure enough did the trick.

All’s well that ends well update! Well, THAT sure didn’t take long.

Snapped just now with my phone, from in front of my desk. That’s a warm, cozy, happy boy, right there. I’m pretty damned happy my own self, I must say.

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Promise: BROKEN

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Yes, yes, I know I said Tuesday that there would be no more H-ween posts this year. What can I tell ya, I lied. Or spoke too soon, anyway.


Heh. Too funny. Nice to see that the WRD folks have a sense of humor, and don’t take themselves too seriously; in this day and age, that’s a rare thing indeed. Thanks to KT for the steer.

For widest possible dissemination update! Another from KT’s Pet Thread, this one of no small importance to you outdoorsmen who enjoy taking the doggie(s) along when hiking in the woods.

On day 12 of searching for my dog in a heavily wooded area, distraught and hopeless, I ran into a couple of hunters. They said they lost the occasional dog on a hunt but always got them back. What they told me has helped many dogs and families be reunited. I’ve given their advice out a few times in the last couple days, so I thought if reddit has any lost dogs out there, this could help:

The dog owner(s) should take an article of clothing that has been worn at least all day, the longer the better, so the lost dog can pick up the scent.

Bring the article of clothing to the location where the dog was last seen and leave it there. Also, if the dog has a crate & familiar toy, you can bring those too (unless location undesirable for crate). You might also want to leave a note requesting item(s) not to be moved.

Leave a bowl of water there too, as the dog probably hasn’t had access to any. Do not bring food as this could attract other animals that the dog might avoid.

Come back the next day, or check intermittently if possible. Hopefully the dog will be waiting there.

I was skeptical and doubted my dog would be able to detect an article of clothing if he didn’t hear me calling his name as loud as possible all day for 12 days. But I returned the next day and sure enough found him sitting there!

I hope this helps someone out there who’s missing a best friend. Good luck

Excellent idea, and well worth remembering for any dog lovers out there. Hopefully you’ll never need to resort to this advice, but one never knows.

Texas Tough

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This poor woman had a VERY bad day.

SILSBEE, Texas – A snake fell out of the sky and landed on a woman mowing her yard.

The bizarre incident didn’t stop there. Peggy Jones was then attacked by a hawk.

“The snake was squeezing so hard, and I was waving my arms in the air. And then, this hawk was swooping down clawing at my arm over and over,” explains Peggy Jones. “I just kept saying, ‘Help me, Jesus, Help me, Jesus.’’

The hawk eventually ripped the snake off of her arm and flew away with it. Jones thinks the hawk came down on her at least four times trying to get the snake. She says blood was everywhere. Her husband heard the commotion and came running.

“I was yelling and screaming. He didn’t know what I was saying. I thought I was bit by a snake.”

Jones says people have told her she must be the unluckiest person alive to have a hawk and snake attack at the same time. She says it’s the opposite, “I feel like the luckiest person alive to have survived this!”

This wasn’t even her first encounter with a snake. Jones survived being bitten by a venomous snake a few years back.

In case you are wondering, in true Texas-tough style, Jones has already been back on the tractor. Jones had her husband walk beside her on the first ride back just to keep an eye out overhead. But she thinks she will be fine next time.

May be, may NOT be. Personally, I don’t know that I’d be willing to so much as open the door into the backyard without a full suit of armor on. No, I don’t mean modern body armor, I mean the kind that knights in days of auld used to wear at a joust.

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Question asked, question answered

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Over at Liberty Daily, we find this amusing link: Let’s Lighten the Mood This Weekend! Are Cats Smarter Than Dogs?

Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy. Having had both cats AND dogs my entire life, I feel I can speak with some authority on this, umm, pressing issue. And the answer is: cats are inarguably, indubitably smarter.

What would make you think so, you ask? Why, merely this: Any and every time I ever had both a cat and a dog at the same time, which has been fairly frequently, I always had to find some way to block off the cat litter box so’s the dog couldn’t get at it; you see, dogs will eat cat shit as if it were filet mignon*. Seeing as how I never once ran across a cat that showed the slightest interest in chowing down on doggie-doo, y’know, that pretty much settles the matter as far as I’m concerned. YMMV, of course and as usual.

*Saves on the hassle and back pain of scooping out the cat box, sure. Then again, it’s another reason why I have NEVER allowed any dog of mine to lick me all over my face the way some dog-owners seem to delight in.

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(Big) cats and dogs cows, living together

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No, really, y’all. SRSLY.

Can animals trauma bond?
A farmer put a camera because he heard the dogs barking every night, and he saw this.

CowLeopardLuv

The leopard comes every night to meet the cow and the cow licks its head.

The man spoke with the previous owner of the cow and found out that the leopard’s mother had died when it was only twenty days old and since then the cow had fed the leopard with her milk. Therefore, the leopard thinks that the cow is her mother and comes every night to see her.

Okay, I gotta admit, even when I saw the pic as I was reading the post, I did NOT see that coming. And once again, Quora Digest proves its worth as my go-to source for wonderful, entertaining, and edumacational blogfodder.

Update! Commenters sez:

Kimberly Chapman—15h
What a mooving story.

J T—6h
I know! Really unherd of!

Heh. Also: groooaaan. Good squishy, that.

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My, isn’t this word salad DELICIOUS?

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Asked nobody, ever.

‘We Sale Your Bank’: WaPo Reporter Rewrites Disastrous Fetterman Word Salad as a ‘Quote’
To protect the ever brilliant Sen. John Frankenstein — er, Fetterman (D-PA) — a Washington Post reporter rewrote an ineluctable Fetterman ramble and posted it as a quote. Apparently, journalism now means covering up government idiocy by pretending an official is actually coherent.

Fetterman was attempting to question the former CEO of the collapsed Silicon Valley Bank (SVB), Greg Becker. The Washington Post’s White House economics reporter Jeff Stein tweeted, “Sen. @JohnFetterman (D-Pa.) to SVB executive Greg Becker: ‘Shouldn’t you have a working requirement after we bail out your bank? Republicans seem to be more preoccupied with SNAP requirements for hungry people than protecting taxpayers that have to bail out these banks.’” The issue? That’s not really what Fetterman said. Not by a long shot.

As PJ Media’s Paula Bolyard tweeted, the actual quote from Fetterman is quite different, to put it mildly, from what Stein claimed: “Shouldn’t you have a working requirement after we sale [sic] your bank—er, with billions of your bank? Because they see me [sic] pre-preoccupied when then [sic] SNAP, uh, in the requirements for works [sic] for hungry people, but not about protecting the—the tax papers [sic] you know, that will bail no matter [sic] whatever does [sic] about a bank to crash it.”

No, I don’t know what he was trying to say, either. But apparently, Stein thought he understood so well that he could write up what he thought Fetterman meant to say and treat it as a quote.

Well, of course he did; as a fully-credentialed “liberal” “journalist,” it’s simple as do re mi: just insert the standard-issue, Mark 1-Mod 0 D卐M☭CRAT boilerplate, and Urethra! You have found it, as a certain wise, universally respected and beloved sage once put it. Is there more, you ask? Hey, this is Senator Lurch (D-Nuthatch) we’re talking about here, of course there is.

Fetterman rambled like Joe Biden in the White House during the Senate Committee on Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs hearing, “Examining the Failures of Silicon Valley Bank and Signature Bank.” The man needs to be in a hospital, not in Congress. It’s a total — and painful — joke that his family and staff keep trying to force him through the motions of being a functioning senator.

”Now they [banks] have — it’s in, a guaranteed, a guaranteed way to be saved,” Fetterman fretted about the government bailout of SVB. “By no — no matter, by — by — by how, you know. So it’s, it’s, you know, isn’t it appropriate that the, these kinds of — this kind of control be more stricter?” Unsurprisingly, his question was met by silence. Then he brought out the above clincher, where he compared Republicans’ proposed employment requirement for accessing SNAP benefits to, presumably, his desire for banks like SVB to “work.” All to save that “tax papers” money.

Isn’t it comforting that our economy is in the hands of bankrupts like Becker and senators like John Fetterman?

Oh no, that’s not so at all; like most Normal Americans, you’re thinking about this all wrong. As has been more than amply demonstrated throughout the Biden “pResidency,” the people who actually DO run things in Amerika v2.0 don’t have faces we’re ever gonna see, names we’re ever gonna hear, and never have to stand for “election” or “reelection.”

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The universal language

Posted on      by     

Okay, I just love the everlovin’ hell out of this one.


Fookin’ brilliant! Especially at the very end, where the clearly-disgruntled FiQ (Feline in Question) has gotten tired of the whole damned thing, making that sleepy, semi-pissed-off, won’t you just leave me the hell ALONE face that every cat-lover on earth knows all too well.

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