BLANK PET T SHIRTS - BLANK PET


Blank Pet T Shirts - Lost With Sawyer T Shirt - Sizing T Shirts.



Blank Pet T Shirts





blank pet t shirts






    t shirts
  • A short-sleeved casual top, generally made of cotton, having the shape of a T when spread out flat

  • (t-shirt) jersey: a close-fitting pullover shirt

  • A T-shirt (T shirt or tee) is a shirt which is pulled on over the head to cover most of a person's torso. A T-shirt is usually buttonless and collarless, with a round neck and short sleeves.

  • (T Shirt (album)) T Shirt is a 1976 album by Loudon Wainwright III. Unlike his earlier records, this (and the subsequent 'Final Exam') saw Wainwright adopt a full blown rock band (Slowtrain) - though there are acoustic songs on T-Shirt, including a talking blues.





    blank
  • (of a surface or background) Unrelieved by decorative or other features; bare, empty, or plain

  • (of a surface) not written or printed on; "blank pages"; "fill in the blank spaces"; "a clean page"; "wide white margins"

  • space: a blank character used to separate successive words in writing or printing; "he said the space is the most important character in the alphabet"

  • Not written or printed on

  • (of a document) With spaces left for a signature or details

  • keep the opposing (baseball) team from winning











bereft




bereft





yesterday evening, just as it was getting dark, I was on my way to a meeting in a nearby town, on the watch for deer crossing the road... and a big black lab bounded into the highway. I slammed on my brakes and remember saying "no!... no!... no!..." and knowing there was no way I could avoid the dog.

We hit; I was going maybe 15 or 20 miles an hour. The dog sort of bounced off the front of my van and ran into the garage of a nearby house. I pulled into the driveway, but was afraid to get out of my car as the dog circled in and out of and around the garage two or three times. A woman came out of the side yard to see what was up. I called to her, but she couldn't hear me over the traffic.

I got out of my car, pointed to the dog, and asked her if it was hers. "oh honey," she says, probably because I was already crying, "no, that dog's the neighbor's across the street. What's wrong?"

"I just hit the dog with my car. I need to go tell them."

"Well, c'mon, I'll go with you," she says. We head towards the road, through the drizzle, looking down the hill towards the lights of oncoming cars.

The neighbor's making small talk, telling me that the dog is off the leash a lot, always back and forth across the highway, he looks OK, it isn't my fault, etc. I still feel rotten, and apprehensive. The dog is still doing laps around the yard, and doesn't look like he's hurt too bad. He's not barking or whining or growling. But I can still see the collision happening over and over in my mind.

---

The dog catches sight of us moving towards his house, and he runs on ahead of us into the road... in front of a pickup truck. The pickup truck doesn't slow down. The dog goes under the wheels and lies still in the road as two or three cars pass over him. As soon as the traffic passes, the neighbor tugs the dog out of the road and is telling me I don't need to come, it isn't my fault, it was the pickup truck.

Finally the traffic clears and we're able to go across the road to the owner of the dog. "She's out doing chores," the neighbor says, and goes through the gate hollering her name. The dog-owner comes out. I can't see her face very well in the twilight, but I can see her wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her flannel shirt, as the neighbor tells her again that it wasn't my fault, it was the blankety-blank pickup that never stopped. She sniffs and wipes her eyes again. We cross the road where she pets her dog, scratches him behind the ears one last time, says goodbye.

The neighbor and I both hug her awkwardly and say we're sorry. She says it's OK and I tell her death is never OK and that I'm very sorry it happened.

After we stand in the rain for a moment looking at the dog, she goes to get her wheelbarrow to carry the lab home - not wanting to drag him - and the neighbor goes to get her husband to help with the hoisting.

--

I'm left alone to guard a dead dog who I've never met, the dog who ran in front of my van, and survived, only moments before. The drizzle turns to rain, and the black dog is harder and harder to see on the grey asphalt as the cars continue past, their headlights showing the raindrops ahead of them.

One of the dog's hind legs is cocked funny, and I wrestle with myself about whether I ought to straighten it before his owner comes back. Squeamishness wins out, together with a sense of unworthiness to touch the dog. The others reassemble in the rain; four of us and a wheelbarrow.

The owner takes the dog's hind legs, the neighbor's husband grabs the collar, and I've got the front paws. He's still warm, but completely limp and very heavy. The lab ends up in the wheelbarrow with all four legs outstretched, he looks as though he's showing complete submission, or he's ready to play.

But even so, there's no pretending he's alive, even for a moment. He's no longer the beloved dog - it's simply an empty heavy body that used to contain that dog.

--

The owner and the neighbors wangle over who will take the dog back across the road; each wanting to do all they can. The owner goes back across the road with her dog, still crying. I stand in the rain with the neighbors, watching her cross the road with her burden.

They ask about my car; we go over and inspect it in the dark and the rain. The dog owner had just lost a horse, the neighbor tells me; it hasn't been a good week for her. But my car looks fine, and that's good, and remember, it wasn't my fault. "It's OK," I hear for maybe the 20th time that night. I bite back the "no it's not OK," and thank them for their help, and climb back into my car.

It seems strange to me that the radio could still have the same program on, and that the coffee I'd poured for my trip was still hot. But I can't drink it anymore, because my hands smell like dog. And it's night instead of evening.

The memory keeps replaying itself over and over











Mario Kart With The Whole Family




Mario Kart With The Whole Family





Similar to last year, we're doing a "Flashback" theme for the month of January at Self Portrait Challenge.

Participants much choose two (or more) of the eleven new challenge themes from the year of 2010 and combine them into a new self portrait.

Here's the list of 2010 themes:

Pet Peeves
With Someone
Square
Breaking All The Rules
Speech Bubbles
Favorite T-Shirts
The Five Senses
Stairways
Straight Out Of (the) Camera
Six Word Story
Shine


The obvious ones here are: "Speech Bubbles" and "With Someone."

Less obvious is "Six Word Story" (title).

Stretching it are "Straight Out Of Camera" (except for the speech bubbles), "Shine" (the camera flash in the mirror reflection), "Breaking All The Rules" (none of us are wearing our wrist straps on our Wii remotes).

Feel free to leave a note (or several) filling in the blank speech bubbles!









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