Friday critter blogging: best pony story ever

There’s a lot of recurring talk about ponies in parts of the blog-hood I hang out in, and in this context, ponies usually bring smiles, or at least satisfaction.

Now, via good neighbor thepolitcalcat, comes what has to be the best pony tale I’ve heard in a very long time. Yeah, I had to smile when I read it because it’s about how good calls to good, how a brave resourceful spirit called out to other brave resourceful spirits, and a cascade of right actions, of healing, followed. There’s also some bittersweetness, because this is a story that began in a nightmare of darkness and sorrow, this is another story from New Orleans, about life after Katrina.


Meet Molly. She’s a gray speckled pony who was abandoned by her owners in the wake of Katrina. She spent weeks on her own before finally being rescued and taken to a farm where abandoned animals were stockpiled. While there, she was attacked by a pit bull terrier, and almost died. Her gnawed right front leg became infected and her vet went to LSU for help. But LSU was overwhelmed, and this pony was a welfare case. You know how that goes.

But after surgeon Rustin Moore met Molly, he changed his mind. He saw how the pony was careful to lie down on different sides so she didn’t seem to get sores, and how she allowed people to handle her.. She protected her injured leg. She constantly shifted her weight, and didn’t overload her good leg. She was a smart pony with a serious survival ethic.

Moore agreed to remove her leg below the knee and a temporary artificial limb was built. Molly walked out of the clinic and her story really begins there.

read the rest

… Is this thing on?

Wow, this place looks a lot like a blog I used to have. It’s been so long since I posted though, I’m just not sure.

I fell off the internets, and they drove off without me.

An unexpected power outage on Saturday left about half the town, including me, without power for about an hour. When the power came back on, I couldn’t get back on the internet. I tried the usual tweaks, to no avail.

1) I have satellite broadband, so if things go completely kaput, there’s a limit to what I can fix by myself.

2) I live in a tiny town (it’s actually a village. No, really.) up in the hills and my internet provider is a small company run by just a couple of folks. Nice guys, but things don’t happen fast.

The sun set Saturday evening on a place with no broadband. Like Willie said,

“I wandered through the darkness, my footsteps were unsure.

I lived within a world that had no sunshine.”

Actually, I just had to resort to watching television, going outside … talking on the phone … reading …

I even had to socialize. Twice. With real, live people!

Three and half days passed. Long, but mostly uninteresting, story short, I got my reprogrammed router back from my provider yesterday. Just in time for First Draft‘s Indiana/North Carolina primary Crack Van. Six Hours in the Crack Den, waiting for the votes from Gary. (Sung to the tune of “Six Days on the Road.”) You know, really, ya’ll… I will vote for the Democratic nominee and all, no matter what…but with all my heart, I wish HRC would stand the fuck down. I also wish the MSM would do the honorable thing, shoot itself into the sun, and that a living, breathing real free press would arise from its ashes.

Yeah. So, anyway the tubes are back on here at casa virgo.

Friday (vintage) pet blogging

Back when Alfie was a wee thing. Still a terror but a wee terror. They still do this, btw.

I was as surprised as anyone, believe me

Major announcement here on planet virgotex: it seems that yes, the mermaids are singing to me, yes I do dare to eat that peach, spring has sprung again and love is in the air. And oh yeah, I’m hanging up that lesbian thing and tryin’ on a little May-December number. Well, maybe April-November is more appropriate.

He gets me. He really gets me. What more can I say?

UPDATED: Just in case, for the foolish-impaired,  and to protect the innocent:  yes, this is an April Fool’s joke.  I remain one of Dorothy’s best friends and the splendid man in the photo remains an eligible bachelor.

Friday featherblogging


Because of their innate foraging capabilities, parrots are fascinated by texture changes, imperfections, holes, knots, bumps, etc.  All such things must be closely examined with the beak and/or tongue.  The seam in this denim shirt could possibly be exploited to yield fruit or a nut, or at the very least, some buttons to destroy.

Friday psittacine blogging: shadows and light


Friday Alfie blogging: laptop edition

I admit that after he kept getting up in my face while I was trying to work, I started things by posing him. Then he noticed how warm the laptop was and he got more and more into it. Or, I should say, onto it.

And yes, his feet are really that big.

more alfie goodness

“Now it’s time to leave the capsule if you dare”


Slow and sunny


Productivity has fallen precipitously around here today.

Friday pains-in-the-ass blogging


Above, “Why can’t I eat the bird?” Below, “Why can’t I eat this delicious lead-base paint?”