Your Pet's

[starbuck]

remember don't leave your pets in a car. It only takes a few minutes to become over 100 in your car.
Do you put yourself in a car sitting there without AC for period's of time. I know just a few minutes and I'm sufficating it get's so hot.

[Jason]

And dont leave your kids either!

[imported_elp6n]

I'd like to add that even with an open window the temperature inside a car can quickly exceed 110 degrees.

Kids, pets and gardens. Heat effects them all.
And never leave a child or pet in a vehicle. Temp. can easily reach into the hundreds at 70 degree temps outside.
If we dont' get some beneficial rains, were gonna not have much of a garden or grass. I noticed places where it's turned brown already from lack of rain.

[Jason]

We do need the rain! [img]/LDPforum/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/cool.gif[/img]

[PVVikeFan]

I don't like to leave MYSELF in the heat. These temperatures are hard on a fat man [img]/LDPforum/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/grin.gif[/img]

[cats78]

It's nice until football season.

[starbuck]

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh.
>You
>called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of
>murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.
>
>Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could
>you?"
>-- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.
>My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were
>terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of
>nuzzling
>you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I
>believed that life could not be any more perfect.
>
>We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice
>cream
>(I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I
>took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the
>day.
>
>Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and
>more
>time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you
>through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad
>decisions,
>and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
>
>She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our
>home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you
>were happy.
>
>Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was
>fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother
>them, too.
>Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my
>time
>banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love
>them, but
>I became a prisoner of love."
>
>As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and
>pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes,
>investigated my
>ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and
>their
>touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've
>defended
>them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to
>their
>worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your
>car
>in the driveway.
>
>There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you
>produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me.
>These
>past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had
>gone from
>being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my
>behalf.
>
>Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they
>will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the
>right
>decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only
>family.
>
>I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter.
>It
>smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the
>paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They
>shrugged and
>gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged
>dog,
>even one with "papers."
>
>You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed,
>"No,
>Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what
>lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love
>and
>responsibility, and about respect for all life.
>
>You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely
>refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet
>and now I
>have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew
>about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another
>good
>home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"
>
>They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules
>allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.
>
>At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it
>was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream...
>or I
>hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.
>
>When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of
>happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and
>waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and
>I
>padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet
>room.
>
>She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry.
>My
>heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a
>sense
>of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days.
>
>As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she
>bears
>weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every
>mood.
>She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her
>cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many
>years ago.
>
>She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting
>and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked
>into
>her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?"
>
>Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She
>hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a
>better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have
>to fend
>for myself --a place of love and light so very different from this earthly
>place.
>
>And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of
>my
>tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at
>you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and
>wait for
>you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much
>loyalty.