Tag Archives: dog




 Did Google run this dog over with Street View car?

A striking series of images which seem to show a dog being run over by a Street View photography car have been spotted online – sparking an internal investigation

Google Streetview car runs over dog in Chile

Photo: Google Street View

After all, the cars are driven by humans, not Google’s own near-infallible automated driving software.

Now it seems that one of the cars – equipped with sophisticated 360-degree cameras – may have run over a dog on a quiet suburban street in Chile.

As you virtually travel down a road called Meza Bell you can clearly see a yellow dog sprinting in front of the car (in Chile people drive on the right-hand side of the road). Take a step forward along the street and all you can see where you would expect the dog to be is an inconclusive blur.

Further down the road, from the car’s rear-facing cameras, you can see the same dog laying down near the pavement. What happened between those two images, and the eventual fate of the dog, is unknown. But Google is investigating.

A spokesperson told the Telegraph: “We’ve taken security measures and have guidelines in place to protect people, and animals, as we drive thousands of kilometres to bring useful and relevant information to maps users around the world.

“We are reviewing the imagery to try to understand and maybe inform what happened,” they said.

It is not the first time that unusual sights have been caught by Google’s Street View cars. In April last year a young couple was apparently caughthaving sex on the bonnet of a car beside a busy Australian road.


The relaxed nature of the pair – she waving to the camera, he draining the last gulp from what appears to be a bottle of beer – led many to believe the image was just a prank.

Other highlights have included a superhero napping on a bench in Japan, a mysterious figure wearing a horse mask in Aberdeen and a man with two heads and three legs in Yorkshire.

In 2010 a young girl caused a local panic in Worcester when images of her lying on the pavement led to concerns that there had been a death in the street. It was later confirmed that she had just been playing with friends.

A Bulldog Love Story


A Bulldog Love Story

While planning his family holiday, Kai – the bulldog´s dad couldn’t stand the thought of leaving his bulldog behind. Watch the surprise he prepared for the bulldog at his first kennel visit.

This is Igor, a bulldog from Lillestrøm, Norway

His family had to leave him in a kennel for their vacation to Thailand

However, his dad Kai wanted to make sure he’d feel at home, so he prepared a surprise

Igor had no idea what was waiting for him…

They recreated their living room! In the kennel!

Here’s a side by side comparison between the living room and the kennel

Igor looked happy…

And so did his family!

He even got to make some new friends at the kennel, too

Suddenly, things didn’t seem all that bad anymore

What a caring family! Here’s their video:



By Joshua Gardner and Caters News Agency

A cow rescued from a neglectful animal hoarder is now free to roam her California ranch, but whatever you do don’t call her a heifer.

Milkshake, as she’s called, believes she a dog.

Beth DiCaprio at the Grace Foundation says the cow trots around the El Dorado Hills ranch along with her canine best friend and even refuses to eat grass like her bovine relatives.



Moo? Milkshake is an 8-year-old cow in California that thinks she’s a dog

Rescued: Milkshake was kept locked in a tiny cage by an animal hoarder until she was rescued by staff at the Grace Foundation Ranch in El Dorado Hills, California

Rescued: Milkshake was kept locked in a tiny cage by an animal hoarder until she was rescued by staff at the Grace Foundation Ranch in El Dorado Hills, California

‘Milkshake is still not convinced she is a cow and has never been a fan of grazing,’ DiCaprio told Caters.

The 1,200 pound Hereford heifer was taken in by the Grace Foundation — a non-profit that usually only fosters needy horses — after she was rescued from an animal hoarder who kept her locked in a cage.

‘When Milkshake first arrived at the ranch she didn’t even know what grass was,’ said DiCaprio.

Now she has all the space to roam she could want. But she’d prefer to follow DiCaprio and her mutt friend Riley.

Milkshake refuses to graze like normal cows and demands she be fed from a bowl like her canine friends

Milkshake refuses to graze like normal cows and demands she be fed from a bowl like her canine friends

Picturesque: Now Milkshake is free to roam the golden California hills alongside her furry farm dog friends

Picturesque: Now Milkshake is free to roam the golden California hills alongside her furry farm dog friends

‘She follows me around all day long, just like my dogs – she comes and watches me tend to all the other animals,’ said DiCaprio. ‘She’s even followed me into the bathroom before, although she was a little scared of her own reflection.’

Milkshake also eats like a dog.

‘I think she thinks it’s pointless finding her own food when she can wait on us bringing it to her in a bowl, like her dog friends,’ DiCaprio said.

Now eight years old, Milkshake is like a real-life bull in a china shop – especially when there is food to be found.

The Grace Foundation Ranch normally rescues horses but made an exception for quirky Milkshake

The Grace Foundation Ranch normally rescues horses but made an exception for quirky Milkshake

'If she goes into a room she causes mayhem - especially if she spots some snacks,' said Milkshake's main caregiver Beth DiCaprio

‘If she goes into a room she causes mayhem – especially if she spots some snacks,’ said Milkshake’s main caregiver Beth DiCaprio

The heifer goes graze-y whenever food is around and has been known to knock over furniture that’s been in her way.

Beth, 51, said: ‘If she goes into a room she causes mayhem – especially if she spots some snacks.’

The Grace Foundation, which was founded 10 years ago, is home to more than 200 ‘last chance’ animals who have been saved from all over California.

The not-for-profit ranch normally only takes in horses but Milkshake is a real hit with visitors and staff alike.

Beth added: ‘Everyone loves Milkshake – she’s certainly one of a kind.’

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2652156/Shes-udderly-confused-Half-ton-California-cow-thinks-DOG.html#ixzz34G9nQA3f
Follow us: @MailOnline on Twitter | DailyMail on Facebook

She’s udderly confused! Half-ton California cow thinks it’s a DOG

Builder gives his dog away – because she ATE the outside of his £80,000 Aston Martin


Builder gives his dog away – because she ATE the outside of his £80,000 Aston Martin

Royston Grimstead, 42, from Chedzoy, Somerset, came home to find border collie spaniel cross Luce had chewed through the fibreglass wheel arch of his luxury motor
Yahoo News.Yahoo News. – Tue, Feb 4, 2014..

Royston Grimstead re-homed Luce (right) after she ate part of his prized car. (SWNS)


Yahoo News./SWNS – Royston Grimstead re-homed Luce after she ate part of his prized car. (SWNS)
2cbd3c61-67c4-43d0-a0d6-8ac31d352c8f_SWNS_EATEN_ASTON_01 THE CHEWED UP CAR

c1ae45e3-50e2-4341-844d-cd59a7a854c7_aston-martin-dog-rehomed (2)
A builder decided to re-home his dog – after the mischievous pet chewed through part of his £80,000 Aston Martin.

Royston Grimstead, 42, came home to find that border collie spaniel cross Luce had gnawed at the fibreglass wheel arch of his luxury motor.

Mr Grimstead saw that his four-year-old pet ‘was covered in white stuff’ so gave her away the very next day – after claiming Luce also didn’t get on with his other dog.

The impatient pet owner, from Chedzoy, Somerset, said: ‘She had chewed out a huge chunk. I just laughed. I mean, what else could I do?

‘I came home and saw her covered in white stuff and I thought she had got a bird and it was feathers – but it was the fibreglass from the car.

‘I’m not a crier and she knew she had done something wrong because she had this guilty look on her face.’

Divorced Mr Grimstead, from Chedzoy, Somerset, got Luce three years ago, and claimed she had never snacked on any of his possessions before she chewed on his car last Wednesday.

He justified giving away the border collie by stating that Luce does not get on with his other dog, a 10-year-old border collie called Jess.

[Like a duck to walking: Bird who lost leg in fight with chicken is back on his feet – with 3D-printed prosthetic]

Mr Grimstead gave Luce away by putting an advert on a dog rehoming website last week. Her new owners also live in Somerset.

He added that he was already considering re-homing her before she chewed at his vehicle – which he described as ‘the final straw’.

stop everything and watch this dog dance





Ana Christy  untitled (25)

Frieda and Walt were young honeymooners looking for a place to live and Levittown, Pa. “tract houses” built by the thousands, 1,733 to be exact, were up for grabs. Bill Levitt had a brilliant idea he would build the houses quickly and cramped together. His intention was not to sell to “blacks” so whites would prominently inhabit them. It was the nineteen fifties. Frieda and Walt liked the proximity of the other houses close together; plenty of neighbors to chit chat to and borrow a saw or a lawn mower when the occasion arrived. They fell in love with the “Cape Cod” style house on Division Avenue. They hugged each other in front of the friendly realtor and put down $100 on the 17,440 home, with its two bedrooms, a washer under the stairs, and sunny windows. Walt thought the aluminum siding was the best thing ever; he’d never have to paint the house, and the tiny lawn would need little upkeep. They were thrilled as they stood with the realtor on the short driveway. “When can we move in?” Inquired Walt. His wife was walking around the house, watching the neighbors watch them. On her third time around, panting a little she stopped and asked the realtor for the key. They stepped inside the little foyer, viewed the living room and kitchen, and then climbed the narrow stairs to the two bedrooms. “This is perfect don’t you think Walt?” “What ever you decide “little wifey” as he was prone to call her. It was his way of showing his love for her. “Good luck” said the realtor and shook their hands rapidly. He had eight more houses to show and badly needed a cup of coffee and a Dingdong. That was then, and Frieda and Walt had been married now for forty years and knew all the neighbors. Their two grown sons lived on Oak Tree Lane with their wives and children. It was so very cozy. Frieda had just retired from The Avalon Diner, and was filling her empty hours decorating and doing crafts. She put up her waitress legs and rested them while she watched cable. It felt good to be finally off her feet. Walt, also retired from a foreman’s job at The Uniform Factory spent his days at auctions, and at his watering hole “Randy’s Road House.” Frieda was up early scrambling eggs and bacon and toast. It was Walt’s favorite breakfast Frieda noticed Walt had put more jiggle on his stomach, and had been encouraging him to cut out some of the grease. “I just can’t give up breakfast.” He pleaded. “Give me less dinner, I’ll try my best.” He pecked her on the cheek and pinched her butt. He had learned pinching from the “Travel Channel.” Where he learned those Italians pinched women’s butts on a regular basses. She giggled and pushed him out of the door. “Enjoy the auction Walt.” She watched him drive off in his Gremlin, smoke coming out of his pipe through the window. She saw Mrs. Burstein come out of her house, which was the same as hers. She had a bag of birdseed, and was tilting it into her bird feeder. A squirrel was watching, smiling to it’s little gray self, waiting for her to go in. Then he climbed up the pole and tipped the seeds on the grass and ate them in his tiny hands. Frieda was chilly by the window and gathered her pink chenille robe around her tiny middle. Her breath fogged up the window.
Her sons Barry and Mike lived on a nearby street with their wives. Jill who was Barry’s wife was a secretary to the mayor. She was proud of her position and the mayor was proud of her. Barry sold old used cars, mostly Chryslers and Fords, things were brisk at the car dealership, but he made a meager wage and was jealous of his wife’s status. He worked long hours with people he disliked and wouldn’t in a million years have them over for his famous barbeques. His wife Jill encouraged her husband to go to night school and learn a trade. She was worried about him.  They had some savings and Barry intended to take her somewhere special for their twentieth anniversary. He was beside himself with the surprise. Barry had trouble keeping a secret, but he kept his trap shut. He wondered if Jill had heard him talk in his sleep. He had been dreaming about “the trip” romancing her, making love in a big old hotel. He called his brother Mike at the Five and Dime. He was the manager.  “Mike it’s Barry I have a secret, a good one, I need to share it with you, it’s about our anniversary.” Mike listened intently while pressing his phone into his ear, making it sore and possibly red. “I have to get off the phone Barry I have a dozen customers in line.” He lied. He was jealous of Barry and Jill, they seemed so together, always holding hands and smooching with wet lips on their old plaid couch. It sometimes made him nauseous, because he didn’t have what they had, romance and seemingly a lot of sex. “I’ll talk to you later okay?” Mike was a together kind of guy. Handsome as Michael Angelo’s “David,” flirted with the women customers He had even had clandestine affairs at the “Hot Stop Motel.” His wife Betty seemed not to notice. But she did know especially when he came home late sweating and red in the face. “Where were you I rang the store and they said you left hours ago?” “I had to stock the inventory and it’s boring and time consuming.” He held her tight and she smelled the newly applied “Old Spice” She backed off with an angry look on her tight lipped face. “I know you’ve been cheating on me, admit it Mike.” “What’s for dinner?” He asked.  “Answer me Mike, right now!” “I have never cheated on you.” “Sure you haven’t.” She yelled. “We haven’t had sex in over a month, why is that Mike?” He sat at the kitchen table knowing full well she saw the ruddiness in his cheeks.  “Again dearest one, what’s for dinner?”      “Glazed ham, red potatoes and tapioca. After dinner he led her up the small staircase to the bedroom. He turned her on, and he had sex for the second time in the same day. Lying back satisfied Betty said, “I believe you Mike, you could never have sex twice in one day. She nuzzled up to him, and they fell asleep.        Frieda went into her kitchen to make more coffee, when her scrawny little chiwawa Scrappy rushed yapping into the kitchen. Frieda hated the tiny dog. Walt had bought it for her last birthday, thinking all women liked little dogs. Not Frieda, she despised it, but couldn’t find it in her heart to tell Walt. She couldn’t stand it’s yapping and running around. She took her coffee over to the Formica table when Scrappy the nasty piece of shit wove around her legs. She wobbled, spilling her coffee over the original orange linoleum. She took out the mop and wiped up the spilled coffee. The dog got excited and lapped up the spillage, making Frieda wobble and fall. “God Damn it!” She yelled at Scrappy. “I hate you, you little pest. She tried to get up but kept slipping on the floor she had just waxed to it’s shiniest. She lay splayed unable to move. She hated the little dog.
Walt with Aluminum tied to his car strode over to “Randy’s Road House.” He needed “refreshments” His mouth was dusty and his thinning hair was greasy.  The auction was in a muddy field and the pick-up trucks flung the dry dirt around. He had been on his feet all day buying up all the Aluminum he could tie to his car. It would bring a good price from a builder. He entered the dark bar with its flickering “Bud” sign. His buddies were there with a space in the middle waiting for him. He plonked himself down between Arthur and Jack, his buddies from way back. Arthur had served in Vietnam alongside Walt and had a million stories to tell between them, while the other patrons listened fervently. Jack a former Linebacker for The Philadelphia Giants talked “sports” and would often get into heated arguments about the game. They talked guy talk, hauling junk, sports, and women, not their wives. There were a couple of “lookers” as they called them.  They were on their forth beer and had downed shots of whiskey. Joking around making fun of their possessive wives, and rightly so, everything was up for grabs in a bar like that. Walt had never cheated on his wife but had had plenty of opportunity. Busty Pam seated her ample butt down next to them. Her boobs swelled over the polished oak bar.  “Hi fellas.” She said. “Wanna dance?”  “Yes” they all said.  So Busty Pam eased herself off the barstool. “Come on guys let’s do it.”  They took it as an invite to sex, but no, Busty Pam led all three guys to the center of the bar. Walt was pulled by his sweatshirt, Arthur was led by his tie, he always wore a tie, no matter how ugly. Jack was grabbed by her free hand, and her long pink nails.  The Jukebox was playing George Jones. They danced in a wobbly circle, despite the heehaws of the other drinkers. Busty Betty was liking being a tease, and they liked her “amorousness.”  “Hey Fellas, want to go round back? I could make you real happy, real happy!”  They reluctantly declined, but it was awful nice of her, even though she wanted some dough for her efforts. Her boobs rubbed up and down the horny guys, making them want to rush back home to their innocent wives. Perhaps get a “Porking” in while their wives were waiting home in bed, a good old “in and out.”  They said their goodbyes. Jack grabbed Busty Pam’s breast. Then they left anxious to get home to dinner. Walt wondered what culinary plate Frieda would serve him. She would put down two placemats shiny cutlery, and two napkins. His stomach rumbled like an old tractor. Then he would “Pork” her. Frieda lay on the floor unable to get up, it was by then noon and she cursed the nasty little dog, it kept yapping around her barking, it’s high pitch trill antagonized her eardrums. Frieda tried and tried to get up, but she couldn’t. The dog in his yappy state lifted its leg and peed on her face.  “I am going to fucking kill you yap dog.” Pain shot through her left leg making her unable to get up, let alone move. “If I had my cell phone I could call for help, I have to pee real bad. Maybe I’ll pee on you!”  The agitated dog tore at Frieda’s polyester pants and ripped a hole exposing her thigh. “You are a real fuck, Scrappy. Wait till I get up, Bozo Dog!” “When did Walt say he was coming home? After the bar, of course—what else!” She was getting mad at Walt even though he had no part of her stuck on the floor. The dog circled her and ran across her stomach a few times. “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE.” She yelled. She looked at the kitchen clock, it was one of those fifties clocks that was metal, looking like a starburst. It
was three o’clock. What was she going to do? She yelled out to Mrs. Bernstein hoping she was still over by the bird feeder identifying the birds with her “All American Birds.” She imagined. The crazy old coot! Someone was knocking at the door. Frieda took a deep breath and screamed at the top of her soft-spoken voice. There was another knock. “Please, please someone hear me.” She pleaded.  Her son Barry worried if his mom was all right. She always answered the door. She was supposed to be watching her favorite Soap Opera. He reached above the door and got the spare key. He opened the door and went in. “Mom are you here?”  “Barry I am so glad you came, I am in the kitchen.  “Mom I have the brochures on Paris, I bought the tickets yesterday. Jill doesn’t know yet. Mom, are you okay? What are you doing in the kitchen? You always come to the door.” “Barry I am stuck on the floor, that damn dog tripped me up.”  Barry rushed into the kitchen and saw his mother in such a state, spread out on the floor. Her legs going this way and that. “Mom are you hurt?’ Barry looked at her with great concern. He grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up. ‘What’s that smell, it’s God damn awful?”  “The dog peed on my face, Barry. Can you believe that? I am going to put him to sleep come tomorrow, believe me, I will. I hate the bloody thing.”  “Calm down Mom,” he said. Are you hurt?”  “Just my hip, I think it’s bruised, not broken.” He looked at her with concern in his eyes. “Mom you could have broken something.” Barry stroked her hair, it was all mussed up, and her lipstick was smeared across her face. “Barry go home now, please. I have a meal to prepare before your dad comes home. I am making something experimental tonight, just for Walt. You and Jill should come for dinner tomorrow and tell us all about your trip. Jill will be thrilled. Tell your brother to come over too. We’ll make a celebration out of it. I will make you guys’ favorite roast chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy and canned peas. Thanks, Barry for helping me up, I was so scared.”  He held her tightly and whispered “sorry” in her ear. “Is tomorrow at seven good for you? Call Mike, don’t forget we’ll give you a proper send-off. Lucky you going to Paris and all. Now go call your brother about tomorrow. I have cooking to do.”  Barry left, concerned about his mother.
Frieda took out a big pot and cut up chunks of carrots, turnips, and potatoes. Then she opened cans of beef stock and added a bay leaf. Grabbing Scrappy by his neck she carried him like that to the sink. He was wriggling like a live chicken. With the greatest of pleasure and with a grin on her face, she wrung the dog’s neck till its eyes popped out and rolled into the sink. He tried to bite her as his last nasty stance as his blood squirted out. But she had gotten the better of him: he was dead. She skinned it with her Ginzu knife; the fur and skin peeled away with little effort. It clunked down the garbage disposal, making a sucking noise. She gutted Scrappy. His intestines fell out like sticky tubes. Then she took the shit out of the dog’s rectum, holding her nose. Frieda stuffed him into her largest pan and pushed him down with her wooden spoon. She boiled him for forty-five minutes until he was fork tender, and then added the vegetables. She put the lid on tightly and went to see the last part of her soap opera. Walt would back for dinner soon, smelling of beer. She rubbed her sore hip and smiled wickedly.


why cats are bad-asses

Cats are the animal kingdom's natural ninjas.
1. Cats are the animal kingdom’s natural ninjas.
Cats don't walk tightwires, they chill out on them.
2. Cats don’t walk tightwires, they chill out on them.
While their size is small, their curiosity is HUGE.
3. While its size is small, a cat’s curiosity is huge.
Cats are America's most popular pet.
4. Cats are America’s most popular pet.
Cats don't give a crap where you think they fit on the food chain.
5. Cats don’t give a crap where you think they fit on the food chain.
Cats bully alligators for lunch money.
6. Cats bully alligators for their lunch money.
If it comes down to it, cats can fight like motherf****s.
7. If it comes down to it, cats can fight like motherf****s.
They're comfortable on the ground, in the trees, and even in the air.
8. Cats are comfortable on the ground, in the trees, and even in the air.
All the metal, none of the face-paint.
9. Cats are all the metal with none of the face-paint.
Cats are protective.
10. While dogs are known as the loyal protectors, check out this cat protecting his home.



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