Supporting our Troops -Standing For Those Who Stood For Us

Don't watch this if you're at work or feeling emotionally fragile.

I want to show folks what Supporting Our Troops all too often means.

This isn't about whether those folks supported the war, Gods knows we didn't. It's about multiple counties standing in recognition of one death: public utilities forming arches with ladder trucks, fire trucks blocking intersections for the funeral procession, billboards displaying the soldier's picture and just everyday folks who show up to witness the sacrifice of our military families.

Want to make a PGR Rider cry? Ask him how often the PGR is the only recognition from the community the family receives at a funeral.

I posted this because on the 64th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima, Japan, I want to remind folks of the true cost of war.

Humpday Furkid Post - Running Behind

A typical view of Doodle napping, our bassets often nap with their tongue hanging out:



Despite this, Doodle is still a sexy beast. In his own mind, anyway:



Napping bassets, en duet:



Libby, a minion of Basement Cat, is also closely aligned with Cthulu:

Burgeoning Duck Cult - Lughnassadh Rituals

About a week ago, Josh installed a bug zapper in Duckgard. What follows is the miraculous tale of the beginnings of duck religion which has grown up from this miraculous event.

The Divine Light has become a source of heavenly delights, as the ducks feast on the flying food provided by the Duck Gods. Specifically trained Priestesses with bathe in the nearby Sacred Well, which reflects the beneficent blue light from above. Only they are allowed to bathe in it's waters, non-initiates are only allowed a rare sip of it's healing waters.

In single file, the ducks then leave the protected walls of their Temple. Outside awaits the Great Huntress herself, She Who Is Killer of Varmints, who challenges their courage and fortitude. Amid great chanting and their greater numbers, they manage to frighten her off and begin their trek to the Northern Gate to partake of the blessed waters of purification. Standing on either side of the Ancient Cauldron, the consecrated Priestesses supervise the holy libation.

After sipping of the sacred waters, they waddle along the dangerous path around the Blue Mountain, making their way to the primary focus of the duck cult's enmity - the Demon known only by his terrifying initials - B.B.Q. Hissing curses, shrieking chants and great displays of courageous dancing ensue, wings spread wide and bobbing their heads. This time honored dance symbolizes their determination to live freely as ducks of the Great Yard, as promised to them by the all-powerful duck Gods.

The evening's final rite takes place at the Southern Gate, where they take a moment to gather and to preen themselves before the sundown begins. As witnessed in this, never before seen by human eyes, photo:



Then, the weary ducks trek back to their pen to begin another evening for yet more feasting before the Divine Light, Bringer of Insects and Many Meals. And await the Coming of the Egg, which is the most sacred of all Duck Rites!