READ MY POKERFACE

California Grown
21 Living it up
Taurus
Free Bitch Baby

› How old is this blogger?

crumpledhornsnorkack:

drunkxabi:

filthymitts:

citri:

michelle-my-belle:

hermione-ganja:

sanityscraps:

tide-and-wave:

goldenheartedrose:

void-symphony:

caterfree10:

The AgeAnalyzer thinks http://caterfree10.tumblr.com is written by someone 13-17 years old.

ASLKFJHDSLKFHASLFKJHDSLFKJAHFLKDJS GDI

The AgeAnalyzer thinks http://void-symphony.tumblr.com/ is written by someone 13-17 years old. (also got the same for my/our writing blog).
Ehhhh, not quite.

It thinks I’m 18-25 years old.

The AgeAnalyzer thinks http://tide-and-wave.tumblr.com is written by someone 65-100 years old.

This happened… :|

18-25.

Actually right. Wow. This once gave me 65-100, too. XDDD

13-17.

FUCK YOU, AGE ANALYZER, I’M AN ADULT.

26-35 years old.

damn. that’s pretty good. i usually get much, much older.

The AgeAnalyzer thinks http://citri.tumblr.com is written by someone 13-17 years old.

lol oh shit

The AgeAnalyzer thinks http://filthymitts.tumblr.com is written by someone 18-25 years old.

you right you right

The AgeAnalyzer thinks http://crumpledhornsnorkack.tumblr.com is written by someone 65-100 years old.

melissaanelli:

holeysaintgeorge:

What you do:

Reblog this and then send a message to 3 people anonymously complimenting them.

Because there needs to be more of this kind of thing in the world.

SEEE?? It’s a thing! I had a feeling! And look, I said we should do it to three people and that’s what it says to do!

(Source: fuck-me-louis, via crumpledhornsnorkack)

If I told you that my first 9 months of life were lived in an open field, you might conjure images of frolicking in the wild flowers and chasing butterflies, but that was not my reality.  I was matted and flea-ridden, undernourished and generally ignored.  Often I was too cold or too warm, damp and alone.  Eventually a neighbor who had noticed me approached my owner and took me away.  I was given to her friend, an older woman who had recently lost her own much beloved Bichon Frise.  I was cleaned and combed, fluffed and fussed-over. It looked like my luck had turned.  After about two weeks I was taken to Banfield Pet Hospital in Citrus Heights for a well-puppy check and to make sure my vaccinations were up to date.  It was a big place with lots of lights and unfamiliar sounds, but everyone was friendly and made me feel as comfortable as possible.  I met a tall man in blue named Ryan, and the doctor in a white coat called Dr. McAfee.  I was poked and turned over and petted and looked at.  I was moved to a larger room with more people and more looking and listening and handling, and this is when my “broken” heart was discovered. I was diagnosed with Patent Ductus Arteriosus (PDA).  Apparently my heart sounded like a washing machine.  The ductus arteriosus is a blood vessel that connects the two main arteries of the body - the aorta and the pulmonary artery. This blood vessel is normal before birth, but shortly after birth, it should close. When the ductus arteriosus remains open after birth, this abnormal communication between the aorta and pulmonary artery passes extra volumes of blood into the lungs.  Generally, there are no serious symptoms of PDA unless congestive heart failure has caused fluid buildup in the lungs, but my case was severe. The condition is typically identified by the continuous (washing machine sound) heart murmur. If untreated, about 60 percent of affected dogs die within a year of diagnosis. Dr. McAfee and Ryan went back into the smaller room to explain this to my woman.  She was very upset.  Having just suffered the emotional and financial drain of losing her long beloved Bichon, she could not take this on and asked them to euthanize me.  Brokenhearted, she left.  This really upset the Banfield staff who were not convinced it was my time.  Randi, the front desk receptionist said that she would be happy to give me a home, but could not afford it.  She already had two FIV positive cats she adopted after fostering and the expense for my care would be too much. Suddenly everyone wanted to pitch-in.  The doctor offered to put me on the Optimum Wellness Plan so I can get all the pet care I need, another nurse offered to pay for some of my needed medication. In all the negotiation, the gloom was replaced with glee and I once again had a new home, though an uncertain future.  I am out of the wet field, but not yet out of the woods.  After being looked at by a specialist it was determined that I must have a costly surgery in order to survive.  Doctor McAfee and the wonderful staff at Banfield are working on a fundraising plan to raise the needed $3,800 for the surgery.  The details have not yet been finalized, but everyone is hoping that the kindness that has been shown to me in this second part of my short life will continue a bit longer.  When caught early, and following treatment with successful closure of the PDA, most dogs live a normal life and there is rarely any future need for medication. I want to be one of those dogs.  I am now well-loved by so many people; my new mom, her daughter and those two cats. And I have an even bigger family at Banfield Pet Hospital.  They are my many aunties and uncles who get excited every time I visit.  I am one grateful and happy pup who has been gifted with so much love and kindness in these last few weeks that I must believe that this broken heart of mine will soon be as strong and full as it feels to me now that I have so much to wag my tail about. Please help donate to save this little guy.  www.colesnewheart.webs.com

If I told you that my first 9 months of life were lived in an open field, you might conjure images of frolicking in the wild flowers and chasing butterflies, but that was not my reality.  I was matted and flea-ridden, undernourished and generally ignored.  Often I was too cold or too warm, damp and alone. 

Eventually a neighbor who had noticed me approached my owner and took me away.  I was given to her friend, an older woman who had recently lost her own much beloved Bichon Frise.  I was cleaned and combed, fluffed and fussed-over. It looked like my luck had turned. 

After about two weeks I was taken to Banfield Pet Hospital in Citrus Heights for a well-puppy check and to make sure my vaccinations were up to date.  It was a big place with lots of lights and unfamiliar sounds, but everyone was friendly and made me feel as comfortable as possible.  I met a tall man in blue named Ryan, and the doctor in a white coat called Dr. McAfee.  I was poked and turned over and petted and looked at.  I was moved to a larger room with more people and more looking and listening and handling, and this is when my “broken” heart was discovered.

I was diagnosed with Patent Ductus Arteriosus (PDA).  Apparently my heart sounded like a washing machine.  The ductus arteriosus is a blood vessel that connects the two main arteries of the body - the aorta and the pulmonary artery. This blood vessel is normal before birth, but shortly after birth, it should close. When the ductus arteriosus remains open after birth, this abnormal communication between the aorta and pulmonary artery passes extra volumes of blood into the lungs.  Generally, there are no serious symptoms of PDA unless congestive heart failure has caused fluid buildup in the lungs, but my case was severe. The condition is typically identified by the continuous (washing machine sound) heart murmur. If untreated, about 60 percent of affected dogs die within a year of diagnosis.

Dr. McAfee and Ryan went back into the smaller room to explain this to my woman.  She was very upset.  Having just suffered the emotional and financial drain of losing her long beloved Bichon, she could not take this on and asked them to euthanize me.  Brokenhearted, she left.  This really upset the Banfield staff who were not convinced it was my time.  Randi, the front desk receptionist said that she would be happy to give me a home, but could not afford it.  She already had two FIV positive cats she adopted after fostering and the expense for my care would be too much. Suddenly everyone wanted to pitch-in.  The doctor offered to put me on the Optimum Wellness Plan so I can get all the pet care I need, another nurse offered to pay for some of my needed medication. In all the negotiation, the gloom was replaced with glee and I once again had a new home, though an uncertain future.  I am out of the wet field, but not yet out of the woods.  After being looked at by a specialist it was determined that I must have a costly surgery in order to survive.  Doctor McAfee and the wonderful staff at Banfield are working on a fundraising plan to raise the needed $3,800 for the surgery.  The details have not yet been finalized, but everyone is hoping that the kindness that has been shown to me in this second part of my short life will continue a bit longer.  When caught early, and following treatment with successful closure of the PDA, most dogs live a normal life and there is rarely any future need for medication. I want to be one of those dogs. 

I am now well-loved by so many people; my new mom, her daughter and those two cats. And I have an even bigger family at Banfield Pet Hospital.  They are my many aunties and uncles who get excited every time I visit.  I am one grateful and happy pup who has been gifted with so much love and kindness in these last few weeks that I must believe that this broken heart of mine will soon be as strong and full as it feels to me now that I have so much to wag my tail about.


Please help donate to save this little guy. 


www.colesnewheart.webs.com