I bet LBP would love to ride a fat chick like that.
l told my pap and mam I was going to be a mountain man; acted like they was gut-shot. Make your life go here. Here's where the peoples is. Mother Gue, I says, the Rocky Mountains is the marrow of the world, and by God, I was right. - Del Gue
That mutt probably has enough Valium or some other "muscle relaxer" onboard to stun a medium-sized pony! I've seen the same kind of expression on the face of the stoner who lived across the railroad tracks from our place. He used to do a little dope just to "steady" himself, but sometimes he got so steady he couldn't move for a day or two!
For liberals and anarchists, power and control is opium, selling envy is the fastest and easiest way to get it. TRR. American conservative. Never trust a white liberal. Malcom X Current NRA member.
Teaching the dog that it can fly might not end well.
"...if the gentlemen of Virginia shall send us a dozen of their sons, we would take great care in their education, instruct them in all we know, and make men of them." Canasatego 1744
A friend was shooting pigeons with his lab one day. The routine was, the lab would go into the old farmhouse and chase the pigeons out, whereupon they would get dusted with some 71/2s. After clearing one farmhouse and shooting some pigeons, Don hollered at the dog to come down. She looked out of the second story window, turned and trotted to the other end of the house, then ran and launched herself out of the window! Don had time to drop the 870 and get under to cushion her landing. He said she always saw herself as Superdog and this was proof! I was hiking up on the continental divide, with my two dogs, Ace and Beagle Bailley. Typical of most beagles, Bailley kept her nose to the ground, always on the search for something to chase. We were following a ridge, well above timberline, which fell away steeply on both sides and was about six feet wide at the top, where we were travelling. Near the end of the ridge, Bailley flushed a Ptarmigan which flew low, and no faster than necessary, just in front of the baying beagle. Reaching the end of the ridge, the ptarmigan glided off over the basin. Beagle Bailley looked like she was planning to follow the bird and finally put on the brakes at the last second. I swear, she stopped with her front claws hanging over the edge. The drop was at least 300 feet and I was already trying to come up with an excuse for my wife for letting the beagle commit suicide! Bailley lived on for another ten years during which she entertained us greatly. GD
