http://www.facebook.com/glennpagemusicofficial

Lyrics:
I’m your owner
not your lover
Please don’t lick my face
Or wag your tail at me

Cause I’m your owner
Not your lover
What’s wrong is wrong
and we can never be

Your coat is own so shiny
and your nose is cold and wet
But you’re a dog and I’m a man
And please don’t look at me
‘Cause I’m trying to forget
Those Sunday walks and
Long trips to the vet

I’m your owner, not your lover
Be a good girl now
Turn and walk away
This is over, you’ll find another
To throw your ball 5000 times a day

Wait a minute; I remember
You were fixed when you were only six months old.
We’re platonic!
You’re my best friend.
Now tell the jealous pitbull down the road.
Come on and tell the jealous pitbull down the road.
Won’t you tell the jealous pitbull down the road.

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Duration : 0:4:6

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Choosing pets is an important choice to make and is no easy task. It’s not just a matter of looking up pets for sale in your handy classifieds paper or online classifieds and picking the first thing you set your eyes on. You don’t just buy pets as would buy grocery, so make sure your heart doesn’t rule your head when you sight that cuddly little puppy or kitten. Getting a pet is involving your life with it, committing yourself into a relationship with it, so consider the needs of the animal and the time and cost involved in its ongoing care. Before buying pets for sale, decide what you want from the pet. Do you want a companion; do you want an animal for showing or competing with, or maybe an animal for protection?

Caring for Pets 101

You need to provide a safe and happy environment in which the animal can live. If you choose a large animal it is necessary to have a big outdoor enclosure to keep it active.

You will need to register your pet with your local Council to ensure its return should it get lost.

Have your pet de-sexed, preferably before six months old if it is not going to be used for breeding, or take steps to ensure that it will not breed unwanted litters.

Proper care for you pet includes proper and balanced diet, cool clean drinking water, and grooming.

If you have children, teach them the responsibilities of owning a pet. Share responsibility for looking after your pet amongst all family members. Socialise your pet with other animals and people, but remember not everyone is an animal lover, and you need to keep your pet under control when in public.

Keep your pet confined to your property at all times and be aware cats should be kept indoors at night (house, shed or garage).

When you go on holidays if you can’t take your pet with you, ensure you find suitable accommodation where you know your pet will be well cared for. Choose a boarding kennel or cattery registered with your local Council.

Protect your pet’s health by having regular check-ups from your local vet, and ensure you provide the required vaccination.

Most of all shower your pet with love and attention, as simple as that. Remember, your pet is a family member now, and no longer just an animal you find in pets for sale ads.

Jhona
http://www.articlesbase.com/pets-articles/what-youve-always-wanted-to-know-about-choosing-a-pet-86591.html

Recently my mother was taken to the hospital. She is 89. The doctors thought she had pneumonia, but it turned out she had taken too much of one of her medicines and had come severely dehydrated. I had not seen her for about six months. Until then I had been, or tried to be, the dutiful daughter, caring, yearning to make her life better –– I think in the desperate hope that she would turn finally into the soft, loving, accepting mother who filled my fantasies. But last July, the tensions between us had become so stressful that my health was being affected and I decided I had to make a long overdue separation. It was difficult. I wasn’t sure I could resolve my issues with her before she died. I did not know if I would ever see her again.

At first, when I heard she was in the hospital, I felt little emotion. Both my sister and brother, who are very supportive of this separation, assured me I didn’t have to go see her. They would take care of her. But the following afternoon, I found myself driving to the hospital. I was not a decision I consciously made. My car, it seemed, was driving me there.

I walked into her hospital room, heart pounding. She was sleeping and as I walked by the foot of her bed, my fingers reached out to tickle her toes. No response. As I stood by her side, I gently tickled the palm of her hand.

She opened her eyes, focused and then looked at me in disbelief that quickly turned to wonder. “You’re here!” she said softly. “Emmy…”

I leaned over and kissed her. Her cheek was soft and warm. I sat beside her and held her hand. Although she was “not there” all the time, she was for a lot of the time, and her joy at seeing me was lovely. We chatted and laughed. Then, totally unprompted, she announced, “I can’t change, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” I said. “But I can change. I’m working on changes within me.”

She nodded and fell silent. It was a comfortable silence and, again, unprompted, she said, “I read what you sent me.”

Recently, I had sent her some pages from my new website, Creative Soul Works. I sent it along with a photograph of myself and my dog, Phoebe.

“Did you like them?” I asked, knowing, amazingly, that I would feel comfortable even if she were critical.

She said, “I had to read the pages a few times, and I’m not certain I understood it all, but I liked them.” She was quiet again, and after a few moments said, “This spiritual part has always been in you and isn’t it interesting that it is now coming out in such a fashion.”

Wow! That was amazing for her. No judgmental criticism!

Then a chaplain came into the room. He asked if he could sit with us a while. We said, yes, of course. My mother began talking, not making apparent sense, but I knew what she meant. She was talking about a woman where she lives who held Friday night spiritual gatherings and my mother always loved going. The woman is dying of cancer and my mother misses her.

After a while, the chaplain asked if he could say a prayer. He and I stood by my mother’s bed and he held both our hands and I held my mother’s hand, said a lovely prayer and left. It was lovely, unexpected, mysterious and perfect. I left her soon after feeling content and safe being my mother’s daughter for the first time in a very, very, very long time.

That night I spent time in and out of sleep thinking about end of life and passing over. Wednesday, I woke up early and went walking with Phoebe along a trail through the marsh near us. It was a bright, cold morning. Glorious. The sun sparkled on the thin covering of new ice, the first of the season. I was lost in the beauty of the morning. Nature embraced me. Nature in its denuded, brown beauty. Trees reaching to the brilliant blue sky in prayer. Me and my beautiful puppy dog and the marsh and the ice and the sun and the birds and thoughts of my mother and the beauty of age and even the majesty of death.

All this swirled in my mind as Phoebe and I walked through the marsh. And it seemed to me the trees and air were whispering poetry into my ear. This came to me:

Guardians of Light

hear my sorrow.

Guardians of Death

soothe my soul.

The frozen marsh is a starfield

of December sun.

I fall into the Mystery

where questions are shackles

and the ancient memory of tress

shines.

When I returned to my car I knew I had to go see my mother again. She was sleeping when I got there, curled up like a baby, white blanket tucked high about her neck. I sat beside her on the bed and nudged her into waking. She blinked and stared vacantly at me.

“Who I am?” I asked.

She smiled and said, “Emily.” Then added, “Where did you come from?”

“A walk with Phoebe. It’s beautiful out.”

She drifted back to sleep.

“Wake up,” I nudged her again. “Come on.” I tickled her.

She laughed and opened her eyes.

“Do you still know who I am?” I asked.

“Of course!” She looked at me as if I were crazy.

We talked a bit. She rambled. I asked her if she had seen any angels.

She said, “No, but some men where chasing her all night thought the woods in Larchmont.”

I asked her if she has seen my father or her mother?

“They’re dead,” she said.

“I know. But maybe they’ll come visit if you want them.”

She smiled.

“Daddy can protect you from the men chasing you,” I said.

She drifted back to sleep.

I nudged her again. “I wrote a poem,” I said. “Do you want to hear it?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Okay, listen…” I read the poem. When I finished, I thought she had fallen asleep. I leaned over and whispered, “Did you hear the poem? Should I read it again?”

“Read it again,” she said. She listened, silent a few moments and said, “I understand the poem. I think you’re telling me not to be afraid of death.”

I smiled. She smiled. “Have you seen any angels?” I asked again.

She sighed. “I’m sleepy.”

I leaned over and kissed her soft skin. “Sleep,” I said.

“Are you coming back?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll be back.”

Emily Hanlon
http://www.articlesbase.com/religion-articles/mothers-and-daughters-a-healing-104726.html