Sorta off topic...
My girlfriend and I rescued a Yorkshire Terrier this weekend.

We awoke to snow on Saturday morning (and to a major WTF, as it had been in the 80s during the previous week), and as we drank our coffee Eva looked out the window and asked, "Do we have a neighbor with a Yorkie?"

"No, not that I know of. Why?"

"There's one running down the street out there." And with that she goes out the front door, and returns a few minutes later with a tiny wet shivering thing that looked to be all eyes and bedraggled fluff.

We have two dogs ourselves, as well as two cats, so there was food available for the beastie as I called the phone numbers on her tag. One turned out to be not in service, and the other was a cell phone, so I left a message that we had the dog, that she was warm and safe, and that I could be reached at the following number.

Not getting any answer or a return call, and having things to do, we put the three dogs in the kitchen with plenty of food and water and pushed off. Of course as soon as we were on our way I got a call from the owner- a college girl home on vacation who had left the dog with her mother, who in turn had lost track of the little hairball. So I agreed to call her when I was going to be close to home so her mother could come get the dog, and we continued on our way.

When we returned home three hours later we were greeted by the sounds of three very small and very excited dogs, whom I promptly chucked out into the back yard to go piss on everything in sight. While I waited for the owner's mother to arrive I sat and snuggled the little dog, much to the consternation of our own beasts. My cat (the Big Black Hissy Thing) took one look at this tiny dog and gave me a look of disgust before stalking off elsewhere. The Yorkie then encountered my girlfriend's Siamese, whose facial expression was one of "Whoa! Bad flashback! You're harshing my mellow, dude!" before he retreated to his couch to lie there looking stoned as usual.

When the owner's mother finally took the doglet home with her, I sat down in one of the chairs and found myself buried under two very insecure little dogs and a somewhat freaked out Siamese.

Errr, actually I can make this story on-topic: my canine housemates have been extremely clingy ever since, apparently fearing that my affections now lie elsewhere, and the Big Black Hissy Thing chose to spend the night elsewhere. (I think that the Siamese just concluded that it had been a bum trip, as he's back to being his usual Tommy Chong self.)
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Mon 9 Apr 2007, 16:26, Reply)