Originally Posted by Althea_Dropp:
“It IS a sad tale about the end of a good thing she did. But there was anything but a calm atmosphere in that car, eh? The poor terrified dog needed some comfort, not Bitch from Hell shrieking down the phone. I'm relieved that she let the second vet do the right thing, though, considering her tendency to keep suffering animals alive because she's emotionally attached to them. (Or because they're the only beings in her life who can't say "What you wrote about me is a big fat lie" and it's hard to let go of that.)
How many animals does she have left, now?
We have a cat that has to have special food--canned venison, no less--and when it's mealtime we put her food on a dish in a rarely-used bedroom and shut the door. Then we feed the other cat her standard fare. After half an hour we open the bedroom door and they change places so they can lick each other's empty bowls. Why on earth would Liz have to put one dog outdoors in a Yorkshire winter for her meal? It's hard to imagine that anyone would be that lacking in imagination. The poor dog, outdoors . . . it's downright Dickensian.
The bedroom cat has a tendency to pull things across her bowl in order to hide any tasty scraps (which is pretty silly, since she never leaves any). Recently she's found the box where I keep menstrual pads and tampons for younger female guests who may be unprepared. Recently Bedroom Cat has taken to pulling menstrual pads out to cover her dish. The thing is, the other cat never disturbs them in order to get to the imaginary tasty treats underneath.”
“It IS a sad tale about the end of a good thing she did. But there was anything but a calm atmosphere in that car, eh? The poor terrified dog needed some comfort, not Bitch from Hell shrieking down the phone. I'm relieved that she let the second vet do the right thing, though, considering her tendency to keep suffering animals alive because she's emotionally attached to them. (Or because they're the only beings in her life who can't say "What you wrote about me is a big fat lie" and it's hard to let go of that.)
How many animals does she have left, now?
We have a cat that has to have special food--canned venison, no less--and when it's mealtime we put her food on a dish in a rarely-used bedroom and shut the door. Then we feed the other cat her standard fare. After half an hour we open the bedroom door and they change places so they can lick each other's empty bowls. Why on earth would Liz have to put one dog outdoors in a Yorkshire winter for her meal? It's hard to imagine that anyone would be that lacking in imagination. The poor dog, outdoors . . . it's downright Dickensian.
The bedroom cat has a tendency to pull things across her bowl in order to hide any tasty scraps (which is pretty silly, since she never leaves any). Recently she's found the box where I keep menstrual pads and tampons for younger female guests who may be unprepared. Recently Bedroom Cat has taken to pulling menstrual pads out to cover her dish. The thing is, the other cat never disturbs them in order to get to the imaginary tasty treats underneath.”
Aren't they funny





