Crate all of 'em.
ETA: With tranqs as needed.
For you and them.
A two year old was mauled to death by a dog this morning. I dont know any details but this is a small townso I will probaby have 42 people trying to fill me in by tomorrow. I just want to cry.
(((((madrabbitwoman)))))
'im indoors miscalculated on our holiday hotel bookings so now it looks like we will have to sacrifice our one night in Calgary because of it.
Since when is it appropriate to have an appliance delivery guy call to confirm the delivery times - when we’d already received an automated call yesterday anyway - at 6:30 in the fucking morning on a Sunday?! I went wide awake when the phone rang (hubby sleepily mumbled ‘what time is it?’ and I told him as I was running for the phone), and got there to hear some delivery dude cheerily re-confirming the time range, which was a couple hours away. I was too stunned to pick up the phone and bitch, but I should have, and I don’t even know that it’ll be the same guy or if it was a dispatcher.
Asshole. Literally any other day of the week we’d have already been awake for quite a while, if disturbed at what a 6:30 am call might mean. Sunday is the only day my husband has off from work, and he likes to be able to sleep in, naturally enough. I typically would have been waking up soon anyway, but preferably not like that!
Addendum to rant: My husband has an elderly father with a history of various serious health problems, including stroke, and a sister who is probably losing the battle with cancer right now, so a call at odd hours holds extra worry for us.
I have a firm belief that any call before 7 a.m. should be regarding someone who’s bleeding, broken, on fire, or dead*. Any call at 7 a.m. should be Night Audit Lady calling me to tell me I’m late for work. All other calls to me should begin at 8 a.m. and end at 9 p.m.
I hate phones.
*For instance, the only call I’ve gotten at 5 a.m. was my Oldest Sister calling to tell me my mom died. This is an acceptable call at this hour, if there’s ever an acceptable time to hear that kind of news.
It was supposed to say hate.
I agree. This also goes for people who have long conversations on their cell phones on the bus before 7 AM. WTF.
A call early in the morning or late at night is only appropriate if there’s something I can do about it. Why call at 5 AM to advise someone’s dead? They will be just as dead at 9:00.
If my day’s going to be ruined, it may as well be first thing. Gets it out of the way, you know.
Stupid effing websites that fail to consider their customers might just possibly live in another country. We have family in the USA, UK, AUS, and S.Africa. We live in Canada. I’d really like to be able to buy and send things via the internets (which are international, no?) to various family members. Don’t even know how many times I’ve found something, filled out all the ship to blah blah blah stuff, gotten to the payment screen and discovered that the ‘billing address’ is country specific. WTF? Nobody else lives in one country and wants to send a gift in another country? I can even somewhat understand if they don’t wish to ship actual stuff internationally (although I’d be shipping in country, just paying from a foreign location), but this latest occasion (which set me off) was for a fucking e-gift card. No shipping whatsoever. Douchbags. Fucking pain in my ass, it is.
I agree. I recently tried to order something for myself, and went through the trouble of typing in my address and details… and then found out that the company only ships to the US (I live in Canada too.)
It’s why we merkuns call all non-merkuns aliens - you may as well be from another planet. 
(((((madrabbitwoman))))) I sure understand how you feel. You already know the facts, details aren’t needed.
I spent an entertaining hour looking them up, thank you. Of course you knew that I would, I’m the nerd who is learning Latin for fun. And let me tell you, the grammer is NOT fun!!! Its so counter-intuitive that I have to stop and think about it every. single. time.
If my polyglot friend doesn’t recover soon, I’ll just have to fly to Canada and sit by his bed and nag him until he is able to walk off and go fishing just so he doesn’t have to listen to me. (He’s able to tell his kids to contact me, how to contact me and what to say to me. This tells me that he will be able to hear me nagging, and I’m really good at that if needed.)
Poor you and poor Tony. Both of you are stressed to the limit, so perhaps that spat wasn’t about the funniest video ever but about stress and frustration?
Excellent idea, I should have put some ketamine in Tony’s goosy food like I did for the other critters. That would stop Bill and my need for them.
It took 3 hours to get them loaded up. Tony kept diving back into his trailor to bring out some piece of junk that also needed to go, then when we reminded him that we had limited room, he would dig through his boxes to compair the piece of junk that he had already packed to the one he had in his hand.
Finally, Bill got tired of all that foderal and told me to start straping the boxes to the roof of the truck. As soon as I climbed up so Bill could hand me the boxes, Tony suddenly had to dig through all of them to be sure he had everything he needed.
We made it about 2 hours before Tony’s dogs (good dogs, just untrained) started demanding to get out of their crates. We stopped for a potty break, and one of them freaked out about wearing a leash, slipped her new collar and took off.
Of course, she isn’t trained to come when called, so we were chasing her all around the rest area. She was having a great time until a very smart teenager crinkled a bag of cheesepuffs, then scattered them on the sidewalk, then when dog stopped to lick them up, pounced on her.
We haven’t managed to leave the state yet. At the rate we are going, this saga will last for weeks, months, maybe even years. Bill is driving so he can’t have beer. I can’t have beer because it would be unfair to Bill. If we ever make it to New Mexico, I’m going to make Bill buy the beer because he will get carded. Maybe that will cheer him up.
Oh, as long as I’m sitting here putting up a big wall of text, I want to thank Lynn again for her explaination as to why rescue greyhounds are the best dogs in the world and then add something.
If you teach greyhounds that cats are not squeek toys and need to be handled carefully, said greyhound can be used to fetch idot cats that run through the door to outside.
Picture if you will…we have the truck loaded up to head out to our AZ party, Bill has it out of the garage when it was realized that someone had forgotten her big ol’ floppy hat and runs back inside to get it.
One idiot, declawed and half his mouth shot off cat squeezes out the door and gets so paniced that he takes off. I start chasing idiot cat, and Bill bails out of the truck, runs inside and yells "Buttercup!!!
Buttercup runs to his side, totally focused on doing what ever her Master and God asks, ears up, eyes sparkling.
Bill says “Fetch Lucky!” and Buttercup is off and passes me so fast that all I experience is a white blurr and wind. She grabbed Lucky by his middle and returned him to Bill, so happy to have been useful that she was doing a prancing run on her way back to him.
We need to understand her better, though. Bill was on the sidewalk when Buttercup brought Lucky back and dropped him at Bill’s feet, while gazing at Bill with adoring eyes. She did just what Bill had told her to do, Bill should have been inside when she returned Lucky to him.
That’s freaking awesome.
Who’s a good doggie? ::scritches ears and gives pets:: Miss Buttercup, that’s who! 
Good girl, Buttercup!
Yeah, I expect it from merkun sites, but this was a UK retailer - two of them actually. I guess they subscribe to the same philosophy as the queen, who remarked when the Chunnel was opened, “We are very pleased that Europe will no longer be cut off when the fog rolls in”. :rolleyes:
Flatlined, your posts are endlessly entertaining (and awesome!)
Yay for Buttercup! Thanks for the wonderful tales, and so glad Lucky is still, you know, Lucky.
Awww, thank you all. I never thought that my saga was ientertaining, I post it because I need to rant.
I do agree that Buttercup is the bestest dog ever and she is worth all the ear rubs I can give her. I loves it when she leans her head against my leg, lets her tongue roll out while she gives me that look of doggy bliss while I’m scratching her ears.
Who’s the bestest dog in the world? Buttercup is! Yes, she is!!!
We are somewhere in New Mexico now. Its a very happinging place. The sidewalks were rolled up an hour ago and there was only one place to buy beer. Poor Bill is suffering so. He got carded to buy Bud Light and couldn’t buy anything he wanted to drink.
Tony and his dogs are in the corner room and we have the cats in our room. Escaping dogs who run into cars are easier to catch than runaway cats, so the cats will stay with us.
Yeah, one of the dogs gpt loose and ran into a car. Tony was totally freaking out at the driver and Bill had to physically drag Tony back into his room while I was apologizing to the driver.
Dog is OK. Driver was really upset because he thought that he’d ran over a dog. Driver kinda freaked more when he saw Bill body slam Tony back into his room and me grabbing dog and shoving them all into the room and slammed the door.
The car wasn’t damaged, driver was OK, dog was OK. Bill offered to pay for the driver’s room, but the driver has experience with mentally unstable people so refused.
In other news, New Mexico is beautiful. I love the red rocks, and the people are very nice and helpful. The folks on the highway drive nice. Its not anything like Texas, where the one with the smallest truck will get run over and not noticed.
Its a good thing that I like NM, because we will probably take longer to drive to Texas in the truck than it would take us to do it with a mule train.