Posted on 07/03/2014 11:39:53 AM PDT by skeptoid
Nome is used to rowdy residents, but some relatively new transplants are making a real nuisance of themselves -- although unlike the colorful characters of the early 20th century gold rush days, these visitors have four legs, not two.
Musk oxen are wandering into the city on the Seward Peninsula, and despite loud noises, water hoses and even a blow-up bear coated in ursine urine, they don't want to leave.
(Excerpt) Read more at adn.com ...
But she does benefit, if you trade off services.
I might clarify this: I learned a long time ago what my daughter is like, and I won't pull any punches nor gloss it over. I am factual about it because that's the way it is. I live with it. I don't like it, but I live with it, and never expect anything from her. That way, I'm not disappointed. She is her father's daughter.
Ah. Yes. That was such a good movie...
I've got one or two of them myself.
But in my case, I think it's a good thing.
LOL, that’s close to what Kali will be asking in a few weeks. OTOH, she is enjoying the daily egg, 1/2 cup of cottage cheese, and the pupply food we switched her to.
For a moment, I thought you were saying your dog was having kittens!
Don’t get me wrong: I love my daughter. But I’m also very aware of what she is like. She isn’t bad, evil or mean. She’s just selfish and unthinking.
So good for you on rearing your daughters!
Whether we are nice to animals or not, or whether they are nice to us or not, is irrelevant.
What matters is how animals treat each other.
...
Chickens do not ... treat each other ... well.
.
For that matter, most animals don’t. The best they can do is treat their own kind well. To them, that which is not their kind is either prey, predator, or something to be ignored or avoided.
Some animals rise to the level of social animals, but few can be said to have any kind of ethics, or measures of behavior that could be considered “sinful”, or “not sinful”.
There are behaviors that promote survival, and behaviors that reduce it. There is no good beyond survival, and no bad beyond being wasteful of resources.
Especially the poor shlub that is at the bottom of the pecking order. They often have a large percentage of their feathers pecked off of them by the rest of the flock. My grandparents had to 'harvest' the poor unfortunate in that position often thus moving the second to last into last place. Sometimes that particular bird had enough, um, balls - a quality lacking in House Republicans - to mount a sufficient defense to avoid being denuded. If not, they ended on the table also a little later.
On a practical note, a henpecked hen doesn't lay many eggs so it is best suited for the frying pan or stew pot.
In the end, no mater the status in the pecking order, they all tasted just as good..
On the plate.
Next to the mashed potatoes.
With chicken gravy. ;-)
If you want to be an angel, in this life, on this world, go ahead.
Be angelic. Be the essence of angelic. Harm no one, no life, no intention of others. Be perfect ...
You will still be just a cargo-cult impersonation of what you think an angel is. Something you’ve seen at great distance perhaps, just before the blessings arrived, in their packing crates.
You are, like all of us, a very imperfect mish-mash of animal lusts and cruelty, and a witness to infinities. Inside you is the awe and mystery that reaches to both the inner and the outer limits.
You are both the yin, the shadow of greatness, and the yang, the reflection of purity, neither dark nor light, but an immutable gray, a flipping coin, now heads, now tails.
You cannot hope to choose your destination. You are too much the insignificant mayfly for that. The best that you can do is to choose your direction.
In this life, and the next one, and the one after that, choose to try to be better, to be the best. The best you can be is within you to be it.
Oh, dear.
And I had to stumble upon this while still trying to find my eyeballs so I could see the morning. THAT was an eye-opener, and no mistake!
*er...thanks?*
I HATE that feeling!
Why, why why...?
It’s morning, so my clock tells me, but my mind doesn’t want to wake up to chickie things. It wants to wake up to kittehs and a laugh.
OK. I’ll take it.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.