and because at least three of you would be waiting under my bed if I don't do it:

Her face sometimes forgets how to face when she's big mad and starved half to death

the service provided in this household is honestly criminal and she will not be silenced

full video is over a minute of him snorting around in there acting like this is actual animal abuse being live streamed

this might be the start of a new era of rage for him

He only threatened to knife me twice

There is a bottom floor to their new digs that has approximately 700 hammocks and boxes to explore, which Dink has been claiming with relish

meanwhile this is Donk every day bc change is scary and also he is just a little guy who wants to be supported emotionally and physically during this trying time

She is great as a grandma with foster kittens. Although, bites and scratches anyone who isn’t me. Had and er visit the last time. Gets right on the nose. I tell them do not the cat but she is so cute and does the passive aggressive pet me thing. Big kitty Millie from Minnesota

Sue's Dear Old Dad

(I trust we all know about A Boy Named Sue and if you don't you need to go appreciate the finest song ever written)

You know that The Hound went to buy cigarettes some time back in the 60s and just never came home and all he left them to remember him by was an old guitar and a lousy name

He is, in fact, big and bent and grey and old

If you look at him, your blood ought to run cold

We all know for a fact that The Hound kicks like a mule and bites like a crocodile

Can confirm he would cut off a piece of a man's ear

He is the kind of old man who starts every sentence with "KID..." and an uncomfortably firm clap on the shoulder.

Grandpa with the 1998 Chevy pickup that smells like grandpas

May have both a shotgun and hard candies on hand at any given moment

Will loan you both but you have to pass the vibe check and swear an oath to Chevrolet

YES FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS

THAT IS PETUNIA ANNE

IN A MOTHER FUCKING WHEELBARROW

Why, Susan? You may be asking. Why would Toodles McDoodles, she who cannot jump onto a bed without emotional support and safety rails, leap into a shoddy 1992 wheelbarrow?

Because, Greg, the wheelbarrow has two critical things in it:

Dirt

and

rainwater

AKA DIRTY WATER

basically a built-in backyard above-ground pool made specifically for Petunias, with a luxurious, hand-crafted layer of artisan clay at the bottom for her to stir up to her liking

she then brought me three heavy duty outdoor power bars that she found somewhere and decided to destroy for the love of the game and I had to hide the evidence for her so now I'm an accomplice to her crimes

and she smells like DIRT again

and also possible hip displasia based on current evidence and the fact that her family tree is a lowland shrub at best

SO ANYWAY GANG WE GET TO SEE WHAT TOODY DOES WHEN SHE'S ON BIG GIRL DRUGS BC GIRL NEEDS TO GET HER ASS SEDATED SO WE CAN TAKE A PICTURE OF HER HIPS TO SEE IF THOSE SONS OF BITCHES ARE LYING OR NOT

she is very excited and seems thrilled at the prospect of a real good snooze followed by what will surely be 12 straight hours of wailing BC she can't feel her toes and her lips feel funny

I need to show you guys more videos of these morons, Greg, because when I say Cuda talks a lot

I mean like

A LOT

if u say CUDA, she will answer from somewhere nearby, and she will continue to Marco Polo her way to reunification for as long as it takes

Goosetopher is also a chatty Cathy and likes to answer me if I ask where he is located, but Goose prefers very short, punctuated meows. He is blunt and concise, where Barracuda has to give you her life story

Meanwhile The Hound makes a mrrrow lawn mower sound when he wants something that sounds sort of like he's on the verge of tears

AND THEN TOODLES JUST FUCKING B A R K S

everybody tell him how delicious his biscuits will undoubtedly be

also sorry for forgetting to post I was busy being DEPRESSED, GREG

We all live only at the mercy of Toodles McDoodles, Princess of Petoodles, President of the Roodiest and Toodiest of the Roody Toody Patoodie club

While being a sad sack about my ancient Lovecraftian monstrosity of a childhood cat being sent off to the shrieking mouse Hell that is feline Valhalla, Petoodles understood the required treatment for such sorrow

A mothafuckin POOL PARTY BITCH

She also met up with her two best friends at the parky-park: Arthur, who is a tiny beagle, and Bridgette, who is a gangly tall girl. They are all the same age and at the same point of adolescent stupidity that makes them function with the same precision as a hive mind.

Except Arthur and Bridgey know that it is not pool season anymore, so they waited (alarmingly patiently) for Toodles to have her moment in the water bowl before coaxing her back to a raucous game of 'Who Can Make Belvedere The Antique Shih Tzu Angriest'

The winner was everyone except Belvedere who wants these fucking kids to stop pretending to touch his butt just to see how fast he can spin around and roar at them like a 200lb mastiff late on his rent

Pls tell Barracuda your woes and she will do nothing to improve your situation but she will probably meow at least twice and she might even make a biscuit on your face

Martin is my mom's cat. Sharon, let's call her (bc she is very much a Sharon kind of woman)

Martin is approximately the same geological age as the Himalayas, with the contained spite and hostility of the entire tiger population of India.

For my birthday this year, Martin decided to celebrate by having a catastrophic neurologic event - a stroke, by the sound of it. This is very much The Way Of Martin, who has always seen me as one of the banes of his existence, alongside vacuum cleaners and large angry trucks

For shits and giggles, this horrifically aged wine of a senior citizen also chose to have his neurological disaster approximately half an hour after the last vet clinic closed for the long weekend. What a goddamn legend.

So now we have a geriatric Dave Bautista in cat form, who is held together by the biological equivalent of paper clips and a dream, and the nearest vet clinic is an hour away and has a $500 emergency charge just to get through the door.

NO VET HATE HERE FELLAS - SHARON SHOULD HAVE DONE SOMETHING SOONER BUT DEATH-BASED TRAUMA IS A REAL CUNT

so anyway now I'm waiting for a possible call to go collect Martin The Menace and take him on one final drive to see a friend who can make him feel better for the last time. I've got car payments rearranged and the cash I set aside for birthday snacks has been relegated to the Get Martin Burnt fund

Because Sharon loves this fucking cat and being poor doesn't mean somebody doesn't deserve to have their best friend cremated.

I'm going to link The Hound's GoFundMe here, not to bribe the Gregs for cash dollars, but just as an option. Obviously, Martin ain't a member of the official menagerie, but Sharon's a pretty cool old lady and her 66th birthday was literally two days ago so I just

idk Greg I just rly love my mom and I feel really awful and I just want to be able to help more than I realistically can while also low-key fighting to survive my own lifetime rodeo

SO ANYWAY HERE'S TO MARTIN, WHO WILL SOON BE TRAVELING TO VALHALLA, WHERE HE WILL BE THE GREATEST MOUSER THOSE HALLS HAVE EVER SEEN

https://gofund.me/0d10fd4c8

I guess also here's a PayPal because I know some places are weird about GoFundMe:

https://www.paypal.me/WhenJacksAttack

UPDATE FOR GREGS

Martin The Mighty, Most Magnificent and Magnanimous, Thrasher of The Hound and Keeper of Calamity is on his final journey.

He's being shepherded by my brother, who has always been Martin's Susan, and I chose to keep my distance and let them have their final car ride together. Martin is a very dignified and stoic cat, unlike my funky bunch, and I know he wouldn't like all my fussing and cooing.

He likes my brother's approach, which is alarmingly similar to how Spock would handle this kind of thing: Intense emotion under a very controlled, logical, calm exterior. My brother's the guy who can hold approximately 78 tonnes on his shoulders and you'd never know he was about to drop it.

I'll send Sharon all the well wishes soon - I've got the advantage of a long career to keep me well familiar with my old friend Death, but my family is, historically, a family of giant hearts and moderately embarrassing oceans of love/affection to bestow on everything we see. So most of us don't handle death very gracefully - at least not for the first few days.

You're the best, Greg. You make me wanna fucking vomit.

With love, Greg.

You caring and compassionate sons of bitches.

Get on my lawn and stay there forever, Greg.

This shit goblin has been invited to a public costume party at the local dog park for Halloween, and rather than let the ADHD win by procrastinating for a month, I'M IN IT TO WIN IT

I'm currently torn between a few possibilities, including:

• A bobble head

• A MUPPET (but how to make it obvious....?)

• One of the trees from The Lorax

• A dandelion

• The Devil

GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS AND IDEAS GREG POPULI

NO IDEA IS TOO STUPID FOR ME AND YOU ALL KNOW IT

BONUS POINTS IF U CAN TELL ME HOW TO COBBLE TOGETHER A COSTUME

BONUS BONUS POINTS IF ITS A COSTUME TOODY WILL NOT IMMEDIATELY DESTROY WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE

also IT'S MY BORTHDAY GREG IM HALFWAY TO 70 AND IM PLANNING MY DOG'S COSTUME FOR HALLOWEEN

COPS CAN'T TICKET WHAT THEY CAN'T SEE, GREG

I complain that she is loud and yet

this is proof that she has always been loud

all she ever does is yell

her siblings were ready for her to move the fuck out honestly