Born from an orphaned Dachshund Mom, this puppy (named Beyoncé!!!) has cheated death several times already, and is SERIOUSLY celebrating National Puppy Day today:
Pastries put up a good fight – but I def-eated ‘em!
Everyone is going to start singing I Ate Too Moishe, Anne L. who says “Apparently, this opossum broke into the bakery, snorted up some pastries and was too full to run away!”
Sender-Inner Elizabeth B. totally harshed our mellow this evening with the saddest story we’ve received in a long time. Apparentleh, puppet Bree is scheduled for euthinasia on March 9th.
Dammit People! Consider a Bree-doption!
Where’s Second Chance Photos when you need them!?
It is a sad state of affairs when you can’t get a quality salon experience. Here are a few places to avoid:
Sally’s Home Salon and Spa
PJ’s Hair Market
Georgia’s Old Timey Salon Emporium
Kim’s Hair I Go
Last Chance Stlye
Jim’s Wash Rinse Repeat
Clip and Snip
The happy ending is that all parties are okay and found new stylists. We’d like to thank the following for their salon busting (in order of appearance): Heidi H., Leila, teddibearpicnick, Callie F., Mike H., Suzanne G., Chris, and Christina V.
I’ll cheer up because
Charlie Brown says happiness
Is a warm puppy
Sender-inner Lauren V.’s basset hound baby is just a li’l peanut.
You may call me Your Overload Overlord.
Thank you Sara P. for finding us our Francoir Langur Monkey Master.
THIS JUST IN: The Daily Mail is reporting:
A tiny badger cub was found abandoned and completely helpless it didn’t look like she would survive.
With her umbilical cord still attached and weighing just 100 grams, any longer on her own and she would have died.
But now the tiny black and white critter has been nursed back to help and has been aptly named Hope.
FULL STORY OVER AT THE DAILY MAIL!
Cuteporter Hannah D. came in on deadline on this one.
…Toilet Plunger Sitting Champion of 1963.
And he’s been there ever since. (gently picks off cobweb)
Sender-Inners Kate and Jeff have the interesting back story here: “So it’s 6 am Friday morning, and we’re sleeping off the Thanksgiving dinner, when we awake to the doggie door flapping and a squeak. This is our occasional wake-up call, unfortunately. Our foster kitty, Rook, is of that just-older-than-a-kitten age, and learning to hunt. She likes to bring in her prey so she can play with it in the comfort of home. We don’t appreciate her gifts, so we always chase them down ourselves, catch them, and release them back outside—they’re usually unharmed, besides being scared.
I get up to find the mouse, and fairly quickly realize that Rook had brought it into the bathroom. This is good. Less places to hide in there. I shoo Rook out of the bathroom and close the door, then go get a tupperware dish to catch it in. When I get back into the bathroom, I look in all the obvious hiding places, but don’t
immediately see it – until I look near the commode. There sits the mouse, not cowering behind the toilet, but up on top of the plunger handle.
I’m glad I got photographic evidence, otherwise I wouldn’t believe it.
Let him out.
He’s obviously been framed.
[…by Cute Overload, Miranda R.!]