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Page/Player Info:I try to return all congratulations! - I accept any and all friend requests! Add me as a friend and explore the wonders of the universe with me. -
Bad Wolf Barn Equestrian Center Information:I board any horses with 2500+ skills for 60e per night! That's 180e for 3 nights and ALL benefits! I offer: hay oats mash carrots saddle pads polo wraps bonnets 3* classical saddles 3* classical bridles pristine meadows and competitions. It is an english specialized barn.
Bad Wolf. Re-blog if you get it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now for my presentation... Rose Tyler, I... - Just wanted to tell you I love howrses. - Hello everyone, my name is The Doctor. I come from the planet Gallifrey and I am an explorer. I have spent my years traveling through time and space since the Great Time War between the Daleks and the Timelords. How do I travel, you may ask? I travel in my spaceship the T.A.R.D.I.S., often with companions of sorts. Yes, it is a blue police box, but it's bigger on the inside. Don't be fooled, it isn't just any ordinary spaceship; it's living. Did I mention it was a time machine? T.A.R.D.I.S: Time And Relative Dimension in Space. Forgive me when I ramble, I am a man of science and some things just need to be said. Me and my sonic screwdriver I don't carry any weapons, just this. It's a tool. Quite brilliant actually.
And that, that, my friends, is me in my most eleven-y form. Perhaps you were a bit confused by all my different faces. These are my regenerations. When I die.. Kidding! That was a joke. I don't die. Usually. Well anyways, when I am weak and nearing the point any normal human would wither away and die, I regenerate and my body makes itself new again. I don't like it much, but it is what it is. Did I mention I was an alien? I'm sure I have. Pardon my memory, I'm quite an old man, but I remember what's important. Oh yeah, I also have two hearts.
This ribbon means I am against horse slaughter. Put it on your page . if you are too
How Could You? When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask, "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub. My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day. Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said, "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar, as he screamed “No, daddy, please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked, "How could you?" They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of time. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured, "How could you?" Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said, "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.How could you? Put this on your page if this story brought tears to your eyes as it did mine..Horse gifs- credit to Aphrodite31 and jewel4
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