Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Petlife.
Corncrake
During a camping holiday in the Yorkshire Dales of Northern England, we heard a strange noise as twilight was starting to fall late most evenings (this was in mid-June). At first, we simply imagined that a fellow camper was blowing up an airbed using a pump of some kind, as there was a repeated sound that could have been somebody giving three quick pumps. But why only three, never more and never fewer?
By John Welford4 years ago in Petlife
Reasons to Have a Dog
A dog is one of the most popular pets that people keep all over the world. The overwhelming majority of them tend to give dogs all they can. Keepers want their dogs to have totally comfortable lives, so they buy comfortable clothes, great toys, and the best rated dog food for their pets. Why does it happen exactly that way?
By Ethan Hayes4 years ago in Petlife
Pet Friendly Flooring Ideas for a Your Sweet Home | Its Pros and Cons
Pet Friendly Flooring Ideas for a Your Sweet Home Most families love to have pets in their home. But many hold off on pets because of the possible effects it would have on flooring and furnishings. No matter how well a pet is potty-trained, accidents still happen. Pets can actually ruin a good carpet or hardwood floors. Though there are remedies when such accidents occur, it still means additional costs for repairs or clean-ups. Pets also mean scratches or gouges on floors. So, if you have a beloved pet, you will have to consider the type of flooring that will be less troublesome with a furry friend around.
By Lycos ceramic4 years ago in Petlife
LOVE HEALS
Hi, I'm TJ, aka TJ the Wonder Dog, that's what my mom calls me, and I would like to share my story with you so you can see how important dog rescue fosters are to so many dogs, including me. I am a Pitbull mix, my mom says she thinks I am a Pitbull and Boxer mix, she tells all those mean and nosy Pit Bull hating Karen's that I am a rare Giant North American Chihuahua, and the look on their faces when they hear that, ha, priceless. Before my mom decided to foster me she already had two other dogs, Dexter, who is a chihuahua terrier mix, he is so cute, but man he can be really loud and annoying, and Lola-Sophia, a Pitbull who my mom thinks is mixed with Rhodesian, but I don't care what she is, all I know is she was my friend from the minute we were introduced. What is really great is that both my new brother and sister are adopted rescues too. My mom still goes to school and also works as a medical assistant. We live in a two bedroom apartment. Even though the apartment is small, and she is very busy, she always makes time for all of us. She loves us so much that she took her beautiful yellow Camaro, which I rode in like a boss, and traded it for a Toyota SUV so she could take us all on adventures. Some may say she is crazy for doing that, but we know it's because she loves us more than anything. She tells us that all the time.
By Amaryllis Fernandez4 years ago in Petlife
Raging Bull and the Fence of Destiny
It was the summer break of my Junior year of High School. The sun burned hatefully above the grass and trees as they yellowed slightly from a short-term summer drought that was a nearly annual occurrence. The hay crop had been put up for this cutting. It was too hot to fish. It was too hot to sit in our Southwest Missouri home with no air conditioning. The water in the creek was too low and smelly for swimming. Wandering aimlessly about the farm and through the woods in and out of shade trees and tall grasses was the only solution to a seventeen-year-old boy who was out of gasoline and had nowhere to drive anyway. There was no breeze. The birds did not sing during the daytime, only the mosquitos, grasshoppers and flies buzzed around to fill the air with sound and annoyance. I sang to myself, loudly, in Gospel hymns and country songs to entertain myself. The rabbits and squirrels I encountered would scurry off a short way into the trees then turn and watch and listen with interest. I imagined that they were critiquing my musical ability. I was actually quite talented. I had several singing competition medals 1 and 1+ mostly. There was a 2 that lay on the trophy shelf instead of hanging next to the others. These summers on our little Missouri farm were my favorite thing. I worked hard and lots of hours with no ‘pay’ other than living in my parent’s home. I knew that I was working for their livelihood and my own inheritance. What I would inherit, someday, I would have the satisfaction of knowing I had earned, and I had wandered every inch of it. I knew every tree and shrub. I knew each cow and every wire stay on the fences. This was not some impersonal trust fund, this was my family’s life and sweat, blood and tears, laughter and labor. The cattle were quietly grazing the shady areas of the field along the treeline when I crossed the five-wire fence. At 75” inches tall and weighing more than a newborn calf, I was a big fella to crawl through a fence so I always had to climb over at a corner post. I was not only a singer but was active in football and powerlifting in my small school. Every now and then a calf would run with its tail lifted high, playing an impromptu game of catch with me. I was fast for my size and figured the sprinting practice was helpful, so I raced the young calves and then laughed when they inevitably outran me. I grew up on the farm. I had always been around livestock and never had a bull act aggressively. I ran and played with the calves and the cows lowed with concern for their young as they ran with me, a familiar, but not bovine, sight in the herd. Our red bull that had always been calm, ran past me, grazing my elbow. It wasn’t difficult to tell that he was not playing. Head down to the ground, he spun 180 degrees, kicking up dust with his hooves in the process, to face me. He pawed the ground angrily. I walked slowly, calmly, away from the cows, while keeping this unusually irritated bull in my field of view. I walked at an angle for quite some ways, making it across much of the field. I relaxed and began walking at a normal pace in the direction opposite the livestock. Then I heard thunder. I quickly glanced behind me, barely in time to sidestep the charging bull. He threw his head to try to butt me. I was in the middle of the field, with no safety in sight. I ran. I ran to the fence by the road. Perhaps as he ran past me and realigned trajectory I could get the gate opened. There would be no such luck today. He turned and charged directly behind me and, again, sidestepping him only put him between me and my escape. I turned and ran parallel to the barbed wire barrier. This distanced me from the gate, but I would have no time to unchain it anyway. I could taste my sweat and it dripped from my eyebrows into my eyes, blinding me. The bull wouldn’t give up. I was against the fence. My back was literally against a wall as was possible in a field. Again he charged. I had nowhere left to run. In desperation, I stepped forward and punched him in between his eyes. I take no joy in harming an animal, but I was amazed, and deeply impressed with myself when he fell to the ground and slid past me. The bull lay dazed, panting, blowing bull snot all over the ground. I ran to the gate and loosened the chain. The bull was back to his feet. I left the field and closed the gate. We sold that bull soon after. He charged my dad while we were working cattle. I told my dad of my incident and discovered that there is a soft spot in the head of a cow or bull that only takes a light impact to daze them. All of my teenage bravadoes melted away. I wasn’t super strong, nor was I some sort of natural martial artist. I was lucky.
By litningrod744 years ago in Petlife
A Tale of Two Rescues: How Experience and Resources Derived From Marine Mammal Facilities Drives Success in Whale Stranding Operations.
On July 11th, two self-titled “conservation” groups took charge of a beached killer whale calf off the coast of New Zealand under the authority of the New Zealand Department of Conservation. One group is Dr. Ingrid Visser fronted Whale-Rescue.org, and the other is Project Jonah, a group that previously had ties to the radical Sea Shepherd Organization in the late 2000s and early 2010s. For those who are unaware, Dr. Visser has led campaigns that target accredited marine mammal facilities that house cetaceans. This includes her efforts with the Free Morgan Foundation, which is dedicated to the release of a rescued orca under human care with documented hearing loss and an inability to hunt for herself. Sea Shepherd spearheads Operation 404, which has the following tagline on its skull and crossbones logo: ‘If You Support Captivity Sea Shepherd is Coming for You’.
By Jenna Deedy4 years ago in Petlife
The House That I Dreamt
I want to be a cat. Cats are noble. Cunning. Cleopatra had a cat. Winston Churchill probably had a cat. Our future leaders may have cats. There’s something particular about the feline persuasion that sets them apart from dogs, and mice, and geese, and rabbits. They have balance. Always watching, curious, calm. They entertain you, but there’s something strange about being a cat owner that makes you want to stop calling yourself a cat owner. You may feed them, cuddle them, and call them cute as they scowl at you, but that little ball of fluff has more freedom in their little paw then you do in your whole body.
By Luke Hickling4 years ago in Petlife
6 Mistakes People Make When Using Fish Finders
6 Mistakes People Make When Using Fish Finders Choosing the Wrong Fish Finder for Your Needs Buying a Fish Finder Without the Necessary Accessories The Wrong Type of Bait Can Obscure the Signal From Your Fish Finder Using a Fish Finder With an Incorrect Frequency (E.g., 25 Khz When Fishing at 50-200 Feet) Spending Too Much Money and Buying the Most Expensive Model Available. The Best Time to Use Your Fish Finder
By Katie Short4 years ago in Petlife
