Come for the politics, stay for the snark.

Since when do we limit our critiques to things we could do better ourselves?

“Squeaker” McCarthy

Second rate reporter says what?

Not so fun when the rabbit gets the gun, is it?

The poor and middle-class pay taxes, the rich pay accountants, the wealthy pay politicians.

They traffic in fear. it is their only currency. if we are fearful, they are winning.

We’ve had enough carrots to last a lifetime. break out the sticks.

Wow, you are pre-disappointed. How surprising.

All your base are belong to Tunch.

I’d try pessimism, but it probably wouldn’t work.

Balloon Juice has never been a refuge for the linguistically delicate.

I see no possible difficulties whatsoever with this fool-proof plan.

if you can’t see it, then you are useless in the fight to stop it.

Damn right I heard that as a threat.

Speaking of republicans, is there a way for a political party to declare intellectual bankruptcy?

I’m pretty sure there’s only one Jack Smith.

After roe, women are no longer free.

A Senator Walker would be an insult to the state and the nation.

Something needs to be done about our bogus SCOTUS.

Consistently wrong since 2002

Presidents are not kings, and Plaintiff is not President.

Putin must be throwing ketchup at the walls.

The revolution will be supervised.

Schmidt just says fuck it, opens a tea shop.

You are here: Home / Pet Blogging / Dog Blogging / Early Morning Open Thread: B&B Pet Rescue, Pt. II

Early Morning Open Thread: B&B Pet Rescue, Pt. II

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From commentor Comrade Scott’s Agenda of Rage:

I could write a story on Bozo himself. He was dumped along the river here (weekend homes inhabited mostly by assholes) and wandered into town. He had all 4 legs back then. The old guy uphill from us took him in. Said old guy and dog lived in squalor for years. Bozo was allowed to roam around town and had an annoying habit of snoozing in the street.
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One day, the UPS truck makes a delivery and backs over poor ole Boze. The leg wasn’t broken so the hope was that perhaps the nerves would grow back. After 8 months of lugging a dead limb around town, it was clear they wouldn’t. So, the old guy, who didn’t have a pot to piss in, went ahead and had the leg amputated and eventually paid off the vet. That was, oh, maybe 7 years ago.
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We eventually started taking care of the old guy, Bozo and his two cats. Boze had mange, a hemotoma in one ear, and chronic skin allergies from years of living on ice cream, hot dogs and hamburgers; the old guy loved the dog damn near to death. The missing leg is the least of his problems. He’s also blind in that eye on the same side, again, probably nerve damage stemming from UPS—What Can Brown Do *To* You!
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About 4 1/2 years ago, the old guy was finally cajoled into moving out of his house, he was about 79-80 at the time. We promised to find homes for his cats and agreed to take in the dog, our first dog after being married almost 25 years. The old guy went into an assisted living home and we’d take Bozo to visit him pretty regularly. After 2 years, his health declined and he went into a nursing home for about a year. Again, we’d take Boze out to visit him. He passed away earlier this year and is buried in the non-denominational cemetery (the other one is for Catholics only) nearby. When Bozo’s time comes, we plan on cremating him and burying his ashes up there.
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A stubborn, loveable dog who’s probably around 12 now and acts like he won’t live to see 13. He loves kittens. We routinely let our foster broods out and he’ll nuzzle them, lick their bellies, etc…after they get over their initial fear of a big dog. Attached is one of the more friendly fosters attacking the old guy. He sucked it up.

(Part I of Comrade Scott’s story here.)

Reader Interactions

32Comments

  3. 3.

    WereBear

    Awww! He provides such a useful service; teaching your foster kittens that dogs are to be sat upon!

    Kinda sad about the old guy; there’s love & then there’s care. Now Bozo has both. But he was lucky all along, I guess.

  6. 6.

    something fabulous

    It is finally cooled off around here enough that me and the kittehs might be able to go to sleep ourselves. Phew. G’Night to all us chip-bump-and-dent animal lovers!

  8. 8.

    Xboxershorts

    Tru story, had friends rented a farm house outside Rochester, brought in a big golden mutt named Bud. He got hit by a car, wound up losing a front leg, changed his name to Bud light.

    Brown ran over my sister’s dog. He was sleeping in the sun in his own driveway. Mangled that poor thing into lasagna, it was gross. His name was Buddy also. Miss him, he was a goofy loveable big mutt.

    Brown bastard drove like an asshole

    What can brown “do” to you is so appropriate.

  10. 10.

    SiubhanDuinne

    Sorry for a sad O/T but Tony Curtis has died. RIP. I think I’ll watch Some Like it Hot this weekend.

  11. 11.

    WereBear

    Speaking of Brown, we used to run a home business and had a driver who seemed like an okay guy. He claimed to be afraid of our Malamute mix, Roscoe, so we obligingly put him behind a closed door when the truck arrived.

    One day the guy seemed to be in a hurry, and yanked open the screen door to come into our home without checking on the dog’s location… who happened to be right there and stuck his head out the door.

    Driver claimed Roscoe had bitten him.

    So the homeowner’s insurance investigator comes, I let her in, she sits down and is petting Roscoe, and asks me, “So where’s the biting dog?”

    It was my extreme pleasure to inform her that she was petting him.

    Roscoe was kinda absolved, we had no problem with police or anything, The guy did get a check from our insurance, because they don’t take these things to court.

    Made us wonder, though. We asked for another driver.

  14. 14.

    birthmarker

    You write so well, Comrade Scott’s AOR. The detail about which of the two cemetaries the fellow was buried in is the stuff of interesting novels.

  16. 16.

    jurassicpork

    There’s something lovable, even inspiring, about tripods. Somehow they just soldier on ad adapt to whatever adversity life throws their way.

    Look, we’re gonna have a tough time making the rent tomorrow. Anything you kind people could do to help would be greatly appreciated. More details are here or here.

  19. 19.

    comrade scott's agenda of rage

    Thanks for everybody’s kind words. I just got done letting Bozo out for his morning constitutional. Then I put socks back on his feet so he won’t chew them to a pulp. The Sher Pei in him has meant nothing but skin problems that will be with him until the day he dies.

    True story about the two cemetaries: the family that owned our B&B for 80 years founded the non-denominational cemetary back in the early part of the 1900s. Why? Apparently the patriarch of the family had a falling out with the parish priest and physically assaulted him (yanked his beard). The priest then excommunicated him (didn’t know priests could do that). The patriarch, who had donated the land for the Catholic cemetery said something to the effect of “I’ll be damned if I’ll be buried amongst the rest of you” and then created a new cemetary.

    Which my wife and I also caretake. Ugh. We’ll probably hafta bury Boze’s ashes at night up there. Why do I have a vision of that scene from ‘Young Frankenstein’ running thru my head? Oh yeah, now I know why. We live 6 miles down the road from the only Frankenstein in the US. Srzly.

  21. 21.

    HRA

    Great story -there should be more people like you.

    Also, Brown should be the recipient of everyone’s experiences with them. Personally, I found going to the top with a problem works the best.

  23. 23.

    JAHILL10

    Wonderful story, not only for how you’ve taken care of that big ole doofus doggie (sleeping in the street!) but for how you helped out your neighbor in need. It’s easier to help innocents (pets) harder and more complicated to help people. The world needs more people like you. Thank you!

  27. 27.

    JenJen

    What’s this, then? I come to this bleg to laugh about the Steelers and the Firebaggers and James O’Keefe, and it helps make my day a little brighter, but now I’m reduced to tears after reading this story.

    Thank you, Comrade Scott. I mean that.

  29. 29.

    You Don't Say

    Oh, man, what a great dog. And you too, Comrade, for being good to him and his former caretaker.

  30. 30.

    LT

    Hey, in the late 70s my Dad got laid off. I think him and Mom had all eleven kids by then. Not a good time. Dad was suddenly home in the morning when we were getting ready for school, in the kitchen, hung over. I was fifteen or so and weill my own hangover period. Weird stuff. Anyway Dad gets a job pumping gas – unbelievable – and takes our good old shephard mutt Hildi, maybe six years old, with him every day. Wicked busy intersection on the edge of Buffalo. One day Hildi lays down behind a car getting filled. Car backs out over Hildi. Hildi yowls and jumps up, runs into the street, gets hit by car, gets up and runs, gets hit by car coming the other way. Gets up runs – my Dad standing, running, I don’t know. Hidli’s gone.

    Three days later Hildi walks up our driveway, about three miles from the gas station. She crossed I-90 somehow, a small river, creeks. Her nose pointed straight out like it was supposed to, but her bottom jaw was going a different direction. Who knows what was going on with her insides. My Dad said she had to be put down. My brother-in-law Jack said she was fine and he took Hildi home. She lived another five years or so, a crooked-faced, ever-loving to me and my sibs, pretty grouchy very good dog.

    Thanks for reminding me.

  32. 32.

    Joy

    I’m so glad you continued taking Boze to visit “the old man.” I would lose my mind if I did not have my dog and cat. Can’t imagine life without them.

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