Some of the Best Friends Don’t Have a Pulse.


And I will always love you, BuzzFeed.

A Soldier’s Squirrel Story

A good soldier never leaves a comrade behind—no matter how small. When soldiers in Belarus found a baby squirrel weak and near death, one of them kept and nursed it back to health. When the soldier left for civilian life as a cab driver, his new friend came along for the ride, and the two became inseparable.



Story, more cuteness at Tigertail Foods.

Which One Is the Baby?

√ Lovable?
√ Squishy?
√ Cute?
√ Little?
√ In a baby seat?


It all checks out, Redditer Loka1408.

36 Days ‘Til Halloween.

There is a lot to do! Have you pulled decorations out of storage? Have you ordered or made your costume? What about your ani-pal?

What? What do you mean your pet doesn’t have a costume yet?

You better hurry. If you need some ideas, here’s one sent in by Buzzy from Amazon.

Lick That Cow!

When you decide to yell at a really big cow, just make sure you’re far enough away.

If you get The Look, you’d better run.

Thanks to OneyNG.

Quandary

{Sigh} I cannot tell if I am very comfortable or extremely bored.


Jackson the kitty brought to you by Sandi and Mike Williams.

It’s Cute Overload’s Birthday Today!

Cute Overload turns 29 today (In Internet years.)

Don’t be disappointed…

Celebrate good times. Come on!




Yanhg, yanhg, yanhg:

3_2
850411-R1-050-23A_018
Happy Birthday Dear Meggie
pinky and little G partying
0606 I
l_3ba30ce91aa94c64996997750ef36e81
It seems like only yesterday you were a sweet, young blog, with less than a 9000 posts. Ahn.

Teddy In ’12!

President Obama promises this. Governor Romney promises that.

The Po’ Pine Party’s very own Teddy Bear has decided to enter the race, and he has his own agenda, People. Listen up! Teddy in ’12!

Corn for everyone!

See more of The Tedster right here.

I Might Drool On You, Though!

People, give a looksee at Mr. Sam SlobberKnocker.

He comes with instructions:


Stolen Borrowed from Stuff I Stole From The Internet.

A Dance to Autumn

In this dance, I celebrate the turning of the season, twisting and fluttering with the wind, like a leaf banished from the mother tree onto the impersonal earth below.

And though I fall to my death, mourn me not; for my belly is the color of fire, fierce and proud, defiant herald of the coming winter whiteness.

Also, the leaves taste nice and crunchy this time of year, so there’s that.


A baby redbellied shortnecked turtle, from aryary. (Apologies to Jules Feiffer.)