They say that the internet is full of crazy conspiracies that are just beyond indescribable, and sometimes, full of whimsical nonsense that does nothing more than to draw the emotional side of its audience that would be enough to be passed as “fact” without doing any research to validate the “claim”. Well, it does appear that animal rights extremists who target zoos and aquariums are now attempting to do the same thing on social media.

The picture above makes me wonder are sharks evil. The photo was taken from below looking up. I don't know about anybody else, but this image to me is terrifying. The photo says it all, it is what it is. I watched shark week and all you hear is how beautiful this big fish is. Beautiful, even a normal photo of a shark is not beautiful, it's scary. Shark week also tried to promote how shark attacks on humans is just part of the game. Come on, I see nothing more than a frightening, massive monster coming at you with extreme force.

Many years ago in 1987 I shared my home with a roommate who worked as a collection manager for the Smithsonian Museum’s National Zoo. Don’t jump to conclusions about what this story is about until you read the rest of the story.

The debate was on between the dolphin 🐬 and the whale 🐋. Should pale snails tails be allowed in the sales? The dolphin wanted to exchange two fish 🐠 🐠 for the delicious sort after dish of pale snails tails 🐌 , flailed and sundried on nails all the way from Exotic Wales. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿Unfortunately the whale 🐋had never seen a snail 🐌 but the dolphin 🐬assured him that he had one day done a triple reverse flip and seen one on a sailing ship ⛵️and so he really knew what he was talking about‼️The whale 🐋had recently been released from jail and was on his way to the English Dales 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿.

The silky, subtle serpent slithered it’s smooth, shiny scale-clad coat across the sunny, special spectacular surface laid forth by man. With steely sublime successive confidence, the sneaky serpent slides softly past all that he surveys. A pawn to this world, the serpent surprises the successive steam and substance to fulfill his mission, his journey that he is on. Guided by a split tongue that supplies a succinct sense of smell, the serpent stalks his prey with steely stillness and dedicated focus. A slight simmer of the summer sun, disturbed stalks and the animal freezes, still like a stop sign. Silence is his key, smell his weapon the stunner sulks softly along the sunny field surveying the field, smelling the air and stalking his prey! Suddenly, from the brush, the super skillful prey shoots with sublime speed, the stalked is bound and determined to survive. The serpent takes to speed, swiftly sliding, slithering, stalking, and stammering with successive speed in hopes for success where the prey ends up in his screaming stomach. The prey, not wanting to become supper, speeds up and soars with solace and something scary to stay away from the serpent. Super stoked for more, the serpent strives for speed, succulence and success, the serpent does all he can, lays it all out for the suppertime meal to snatch up his supper. But the prey is swift and surely determined to survive on this sunny September day. Story is as stories go and this one is not meant to go slow, the serpent stretches, slides and strives to see the savvy prey that is just past his scaled grip. The slippery prey slams on the brakes and slips past in a stoic spot just past some slimy stones. The slithering serpent is stymied, sunk and starving, he starts out and slowly seeks the shiny prize, but somewhere the sun is setting on this September day, and the serpent is starved. Searching, seeking, staying the course, the serpent is sure the prey is somewhere, something lurking in the swamp, the sway is ripe with sustenance. The sneaky sucker snuck out through the screen and streaked across the sunny field, legs a blur, staggering speed the prey sends his special successive delivered smattering success. The prey, not stunned, stuck in stupor, bewildered with the sickness, straightens up and screams across the September sky—streaking in the summer sun filled field. A silver-stomached, surfer—stereotyped stranger strains into view and surveys the scene. Slivering with silky-smooth softness, the serpent stoops and stretches to see the new sights. Somewhere, in the slight brush, the sneaky prey sulks along, steaming with solemn soullessness as he contemplates his next sneak! The snake suffers, the surfer streaks his shiny silver board and the prey shies away. Suddenly, the smooth serpent springs to life, seizing the moment and simmering with speed and stealth, screams down the September field sure to get the prey this time. The surfer surmises the situation and sees the situation happening before him. The prey stuck in sand, sees the sure-surfaced situation, seemingly over, stopping the situation and seizing the circumstance. But the serpent is not to be denied on this sunny September day, sliding past the slumbering surfer, over the silvery stomach, past the salt encrusted surf board, the serpent slithers on. Slowly, stealthy he stalks the slippery, surprised prey. Talking stalk and boldly on purpose, the serpent waits at the precipice of the sun drenched stalks. The prey, feeling so sublime, sees the sun and September afternoon, thoroughly believing he is in the clear. Foiled by none, confused only briefly, the serpent scores the succulent feast on this September day!

A razor winged aerialist effortlessly soars deep across the bleak horizon, talons pointing fierce as the winged death stalks his prey. A glimmer of light caught the mighty birds’ attention as a mature male Salmon crests the water top anticipating to mate with a willing partner in hopes of a successful propagation of this ichthyic species. But it is not to be on this day, as the ever present Eagle soars overhead confidently surveying his territory. An equal not found, a true majesty unsurpassed, the Eagle makes another sweeping pass, planning his assault on the unsuspecting Salmon below. For this is what this species was designed for, mighty talons of steel and a scalpel sharp beak designed for tearing and ripping flesh from bone and cartilage, the Eagle is in his true splendor today and every day that the sun sets splendidly in the East. For the Eagle can sense its prey, unsurpassed vision, acute hearing and a deathly touch, no prey stands a chance once the Eagle makes up his mind and focuses all his efforts on the task at hand. Far off in the distance, the rider appears. Gauntlet firmly affixed, the Eagle suddenly has new purpose, new focus and renewed energy. The juicy Salmon waits just below but the Eagle will have none of it on this day as the Gauntlet’s pull is far too much, too alluring to waste, too tempting to pass up. Shinning off the setting sun with a glimmering repose, the Gauntlet calls to the Eagle, bending his will and changing his determined focus, the Eagle changes course and makes a dead line straight for his new target. For the Gauntlet’s calling cannot be resisted or ignored, it must be made center of attention, paramount of focus, intrinsic decider of fate and nobility, the Gauntlet has power unsurpassed over the Eagle and today is the day of reckoning for the mighty one. A final tempt of flight, willing fate to bend his will, the Eagle forgets the juicy mating Salmon splashing surreptitiously below in the silky stream and follows his natural lead and mastery of the talon to recoup his final mission, his final journey. The Eagle, pierces the twilight with a primordial scream heard from the heavens, nails his target front and center. Landing with a penetrating thump, the Eagle realizes now he is home, safe and secure content with his mission, the Eagle accepts his fate and settles in for winters slumber. The Gauntlet, full with purpose and responsibility, allows the Eagle to roost—confident in the future and reassuring in the essence, the Eagle realizes he has arrived, he has chosen correctly, the Salmon be damned, the Eagle now realizes the truth of the situation, he is right where is meant to be, doing exactly what needs be done, the Eagle and the Gauntlet can now be one.

He's the sweetest boy ever. Although he has scars and he's been shot at with bird shot (metal bb's), he's still the sweetest boy ever.

Welcome. I am here to talk about something that most people are afraid to talk about for multiple reasons, one of the biggest ones being that people will think you are a horrible person, and also that you will think so as well. This thing being: When you have pets, but you hate them.

When my eldest son, Dominic, was killed by a drunk driver on October 4, 2013, our family unit imploded, and we lost perspective in everything; time, value, and in each other. We gladly inherited Lucy, Dom’s young Border Collie, and she became my wife’s focus, walking her 10k every day. It meant Susan could be on her own, thinking about her dead son, and away from me.