The Dabbit

As you can see our resident dabbit is a real stand-out guy.

What’s a dabbit, you say?

Half duck, half rabbit. 

Dabbit.

 

Whatever will be

 

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Rooby-Roo!

I’d like to take a moment to welcome Rooby-Roo to our little fold. 

UJ found him last October, and it went – as I understand it – like this:

UJ was at a small plaza near his school last October, getting some dental work done. When he came out of the dentist’s office he started walking, head-down, toward the train, but just then he thought he heard a voice. 

“Rooby-Rooby-roooooooo!”

He looked around but saw nothing.

“Rooby-Rooby-rooooooooooooooooooo!”

There it was again. He looked a little further and there, behind a big bank of gravelly snow, was Rooby-roo.

UJ leaned over, and said: 

“Well hello there, Smiley, so what’s your story?”

They talked back and forth for a moment or two. UJ established that Rooby had been most unkindly tied to the back of a big, ugly black pickup truck, that he didn’t like it, and that he didn’t like the people he was with because they we’re mean and cruel, laughed at him a lot – oh, and because they tied him to the back of a pickup truck. So, both sad and angry, crying with dismay, he had untied the knot in the bungee cord which held him to the truck, and jumped.

It was a rough landing and he bumped his head a bit, but he bounced well and landed in the snow bank. And there he sat. 

And sat. 

And sat.

Rooby-roo sat at the edge of that parking lot peering over the snow bank for three whole days and nights before his cries were finally heard. But as soon as they were – as soon as UJ noticed him – boy, oh boy, did his world change forever! Why? Because UJ brought him home to our headquarters, to all the love and acceptance he could ever want or need. 

He wasn’t really comfortable meeting everyone right away, and we respect that with new members. In fact, he even went to rest at a nearby spa for a while until he was finally ready for friends again. 

But now he’s here, he’s home, and we’re very pleased about it.

So, welcome Rooby-roo. It sure looks like you’re settling in with your critter friends now.

Nice smile, buddy!

 

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Hoppy

Here’s Hoppy. He’s the happiest bunny I’ve ever known, and I’ve known a few. He’s always enthusiastic, upbeat, waving his arms around like crazy. He’s goofy, but he’ll stand by his friends right to the end. He doesn’t actually have a position on the board, but he’s always volunteering for stuff. To me, that makes him pretty darn cool.

 

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DP: Home

You’re never more grateful for home than when you’re going away for a while.

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DP: Imaginary

Imaginary. Hmmm, how do you suppose we at the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Stuffed Animals might approach a challenge like this? I called a meeting to discuss it, and of course, everyone had ideas.

Reginald, our resident lion, known for his courage and his penchant for tippling, thought the solution was obvious:

“Tell them about movie nights!” he exclaimed, just a little bit too loudly. “They must know about movie nights!”

“Stop yer hollering,” chided Barry Bear. He was a bit stodgy, but fun in the playground; about two years ago he took to wearing his Santa hat year-round. “I think we should share our recipes with them.”

Murray Moose, the Vice President, and a moose of impeccable character and enormous nose piped up next: “Why don’t we tell them about our field trips?”

“Those of us who actually make field trips, you mean,” interjected the secretary, Charlene. “We don’t all get to go on the field trips, you know.”

Reginald said, thoughtfully: “I’ve been. They’re a lot of fun.”

Benny, the thespian, stuck up a paw and coughed gently. “Perhaps we should tell them about the movie we’re making,” he said, causing Barry Bear to roll his eyes.

“You mean the one we’ve been making for the better part of the last six years?” he said, somewhat incredulously. “You’re referring to L’Ur Brun, the filming of which has never progressed past scene one?”

“What are you suggesting? You saying we don’t work hard?”

“Oh, not at all. You spend all day at it to be sure, though there doesn’t seem to be much progress.”

Snick jumped in then. “Boys, boys, don’t fret, don’t argue. I for one know that the movie is very important, and I do believe in it. Perhaps we should tell them how we look after the car and talk to people at the car shows.”

“But it’s only you and Snerk and Sidney who get to go to those,” complained Arthur, the black-eared dog.

“I think,” Snerky squeaked, “that we should explain what spotting is and why it’s so important.”

The group fell quiet for a moment, thinking. 

“The thing you all seem to be missing,” I said, “is that these are the very things that I do talk about in the blog.” I paused. “All the time.” I paused again, and sighed. “Which I take to mean that none of you ever actually read what I write.” I shook my head, disappointed.

There was an awkward silence. Finally, Murray said: “Well, I’ve read it. I love reading it.” He mused for a moment, then, “Perhaps we should set up a computer in the dining room where we can all read it every day as we eat.”

“That’s an excellent idea!” shrieked Charlene, who very much enjoyed her food. “Let’s do what Murray said.”

“Agreed!” cried Reginald.

“Well,” I reasoned, “It sounds ok, but I will have to discuss it with UJ, and we must consider budgetary factors. After all, it’s a capital expense.”

Reginald amended: “Ok,” he said, “let’s form a committee to consider the budgetary aspects of Charlene’s idea and to organize approaching the landlord for infrastructure considerations.”

“Seconded!” cried Snerky.

“All in favour?” I added, looking around.

“AYE!” 

 

 

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Happiness

Happiness is being safe with your friends.

An Open Letter from Snook

Dere all,

Boy, that sher woz a long trip hear to Mishigan, but as soon as I got hear I knew it was the rite thing too do. I felt wellcomed right away and was immediately taken to see the yung man who needs me. We are geting along reely well and are having lots of fun togethr.

Isaac (thats his name) is hapy to have me hear, but is not reely impressd with my hand writing, or my speling witch he says is werse than his. Here I am trying to practice so I can mayk him hapy.

Snook works on his cursive.

Of corse it’s not all werk. Sometimes we lissen to music togethr and sometimes when he goes owt I put the phones in and lissen on my own. He doesn’t mind, although he’s not crazy about how lowd I have to have it just to here it.

Listening to some music

And then ther are times when he lets me reed stuff. This was a reely neat book about a wizard and stuff – I dont remember us having any books like that back at the Sosiety.

Hear I am reeding

Isaac is a very nice yung man and Im looking forward to getting to know him better. Were stil figgering out what we like and stuff, but Im prety sure we’re going to get along very well for a looooong time.

I miss all you guys teribly, but this is wear I’m meant to be for now. I’m a working Snook now, and I reely love it.

Snook

xx

It’s what we do

I think the old adage is “When the going gets tough the tough get going”?

Well, being tough is what we are all about. We do what we have to do to restore order and calm, and we go where we’re needed to get things put right. When someone of any age needs comfort, a cuddle, good conversation, or just plain ol’ company on a cold winter’s night, that’s where you’ll find us. 

We are made for love, and that’s exactly what we do.

So, what about you?

What were you made to do?