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nowitsdarkfic · 5 years ago

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chapter sixteen (the third hockey game)

December 20, 1988. Seattle, Washington.

It would be a whole three weeks before the four of us could group together and head on out to Seattle as a hockey team. On top of that, ever since we visited Brick in the hospital, we were slammed with some of the worst snow I had ever seen in my life: it was so bad, the four of us all got snowed in, stranded in Oswego for a whole two days. Marcia and Sonia were even lucky to leave Rochester for a little while and head on over to Buffalo for a day. And Lars and I still haven't had lunch with them yet. The good side of being stranded at home was I didn't have to leave the apartment for a full day, and then I was able to buy myself a pair of guards for the blades of my skates.

The more I think about it, the more I want to head on out there on an actual plane instead of crawling through a wormhole, especially since the wormholes move about places when we least expect them to. Between scrounging for plane tickets and my calling up places to see if we could play a game up there, as well as my calling up any place to record my songs. Lucky for us, Lars, Marcia, and Sonia all pitched in for us, as the two sisters themselves decided on flying out there to visit their parents and their good friend there in the cozy corner of Washington; meanwhile, I called my parents to assure them I would be home in time for Christmas.

I told Lars not to worry about heading down to Portland to tell his wife because we all know the story there at this point. He also told me that Kim and Hiro could find some studio space for me in the University District of downtown but I have my doubts given it's such a strange setting.

But on the other hand, I'm also open to it. I spent the whole flight nestled in between him and Spence with my hockey gear in my overnight bag right in front of my feet. I have my notepad tucked in the pocket of my big black overcoat. Nothing to see here. Just five guys going to play up in Seattle. We're not a professional team as much as we wish we were.

The other plus side is going to see Soundgarden themselves again, this time as the four guys we knew before and not the band with the soundscapes that fill a whole theater of some two thousand people. I assured Lars not to worry about finding skates to fit him to partake in his role as goalie. If nothing, he's going to be the ultimate badass with his own stick in one hand and his cane in the other.

We landed at the airport there in Seattle, right in the heart of the neon lights as they're still glimmering on in the wake of all the dense morning fog surrounding us. I'm leading the whole pack through the airport with my scarf around my neck, my leather gloves and chained boots on, and my mirrored sunglasses upon my face, like I'm the big Italian mob boss. Don't mess with me: I've got a sack full of blades and a hockey stick just waiting to come out if I get any looks.

There's just one foreseeable downside with all this and that's we actually have to compete with a team now.

Fine by me, as long as they don't try and intimidate us because I've got an album to record on top of everything else.

Marcia and Sonia meanwhile have the keys to our rental hydrogen cars, one for the two of them to head on up to a little town called Everett, and one for the five of us. Sonia pats me on the back as she hands me my key. I really don't know if she's telling the truth about calling Spence after the accident, but I also haven't heard a word from Dominique on the whole matter, either.

Anyways, if I recall correctly, this place is right near the heart of downtown so we'll get a good look of more than just the neon lights there. And there is a Denny's nearby, much to Barney and Billy's rejoicing. The hydrogen hum here is virtually silent; Lars is right next to me in the front seat with his mask already on over his face.

“Relax, dude,” Spence tells him from the backseat. “It's gonna be a bit before we start playing and even then we've got to warm up.��

“I think he's a little wary of all the neon here,” I suggest as we pull up to a stoplight.

“I really am,” Lars replies through gritted teeth.

“It's alright, it's just a little light. It's not gonna hurt ya.” But I peer out the windshield at some of the little buildings here in this part of town. Some otherwise small, nondescript shops, garages, and places that are perfectly fine otherwise but have these odd flat black screens on the front sides. They're odd because they seem to follow the outer corners, like they're wrapped around. And the buildings themselves almost look abandoned: we pass a leather shop which has the lights out even though it's still early in the day.

This fog meanwhile is growing thick and heavy over our heads with each passing intersection. I hope it's not too cold as we reach the intersection of the street leading over to the recording studio Soundgarden recorded Ultramega OK.

This part of town was not nearly as advanced back then when I first met Soundgarden as it is now. The buildings all look like they're made entirely of polished silver: even the Space Needle is looking extra shiny and clean and crisp at the moment, its blue and green neon as bright as a lighthouse. The glimmers of neon are in full swing here up on the rooftop gardens and over the awnings. Then I catch the sight of something small and shiny flying against the dense fog.

I think back to what Angeline told me about the drones. They make a sound that's below human hearing, such that it can cause paranoia. I think about the hydrogen car that we're riding in right now and I wonder if it's the case here, too. But then again, probably not. I feel fine.

But then there's Lars with the mask already over his face.

That one drone itself is floating over the heart of downtown Seattle, right where we're headed.

The light turns the brightest neon green I have ever seen in my life and we roll onward to the hockey rink.

Lars peers out the window at the heart of downtown and I catch glimpses every so often on my part. Everything is so smoothed out and polished: all the lights are suspended by those spindly white wires. The street itself is black and in need of those street cleaners.

I think about Maya, how she spent all that time here, running around the puddles and the blacktop with nothing more than her own mind. At least I think she did.

But that copy of After the Watershed was real. Surely she did. I touched that booklet. I felt it, I read it, I tucked it under my jacket to protect it from the rain, and I wound up losing the stupid thing after the accident. But there's too many sides to this story. I can only make a guess and right at the moment, I don't feel like taking a shot in the dark because I'm looking around for the hockey rink—

“Ah! Here we are.”

I spot the Denny's, nestled on the corner right across the street from the tall matte silver light posts surrounding a good sized outdoor hockey rink. I pull into the tiny sliver of pavement right near the entrance right as those light posts flicker on and bathe the ice in pure white light.

“Okay, so I just have to sit and make sure the puck doesn't get in?” Lars relays to me, still through gritted teeth.

“Exactly,” I reply as I kill the hydrogen engine. I don't think it goes off at first but I turn the key again, and yes, it's off. I climb out first to take in the cool dampness lacing throughout the corridors of Seattle; embedded in that dampness is the chill of cold metal and stone. I shiver and close my coat as I shut the door behind me. Barney, Billy, and Spence climb out of the backseat so we can fetch our things.

“I assume that's where we change?” Spence nods to the little shed to our right.

“Maybe?” I wonder aloud. I really have no idea. “It's worth a shot.”

Billy puts his arm around Lars so as to help him out and Spence takes off his gloves before following them over there.

“I've noticed something, Joey,” Barney starts as he closes the trunk lid.

“What's that?”

“There's no people.”

I glance around the block. Indeed, it's just us here. I didn't even see any passersby at any of the crosswalks. There weren't even any other cars on the other side of the street. I just saw the drone up in the sky and that was it.

“Yeah. On top of that, I haven't heard a bird or anything since we left the airport, and even then it was just the whir of the waters.”

“Oh, from the Puget Sound?”

“Yeah. It's weirdly quiet right now. But let's get changed, though—surely the team will be here any second now.” We head on over to the shed and step in through the door on the other side. There's a few wooden benches in here plus a single row of metal lockers that look very old. Billy and Spence have already changed into their jerseys while Lars is still trying to change out of his jeans. Poor guy.

He finally gets it once I open up my bag and take off my coat, my gloves, my scarf, and then my shirt. I put on my jersey, only to take off my boots and replace them with my skates.

As I'm lacing up, Spence calls me from outside.

“What's up, man?” I reply back once I straighten myself upright. He stands in the doorway with his hands resting on the edges of the door frame.

“The team's here,” he tells us, “but it's not what you think.”

“What do you mean it's not what we think?” Barney asks him. I put my gloves back on and pick up my mask before standing onto my feet; Lars stands up with his cane in hand and follows me out. I poke my head out to see a half dozen of narrow white human shaped things. Robots, I think. Everything about them is perfectly smooth and they're faceless, and they're so skinny they make me look overweight.

They shuffle about the pavement in total silence: their metallic feet don't even make a sound as they walk towards the rink. Spence glances back at me with a befuddled look upon his face.

“Who did you talk to when you said you wanted to play a game up here?” he asks me, his tone of voice unsure of where any of this is going.

“Some lady,” I reply to him. “An actual person. I forget her name but yeah. I sealed the deal with her and I thought for sure. What is this, some kind of gag?”

“I think not, Joey,” Lars tells me; I turn to see him pointing at the edge of the rink and the bots' feet narrowing and turning into something that resembles blades on skates.

“We better get to it,” Barney advises us.

“Yeah—” I turn my head even more so as to come within sight of the doorway to the shed. “Hey, Bill, you coming?”

“Yeah! Just need to get my laces secured—okay!” He emerges from the shed with his stick over his shoulder. I wonder how this is going to go as we pad over to the entrance of the rink and, once we remove the guards from the blades, we file onto the ice, one right after the other. I pass the shiny blue metal posts on our end of the rink and I make out the shiny green ones on the far side.

I've got my mask resting upon the crown of my head and my stick firmly in my leather gloved hand. I make my way over to the middle of the rink right as the one robot shows me a hand which morphed into the head of a hockey stick at some point. Gotta be brave. Surely this can't be that bad. Five guys versus five robots that look like a bunch of mannequins.

This can't be that bad.

It was in fact that bad.

Spence fell down so many times trying to catch the puck: probably two of those times right on his ass. Barney, the resident badass, lost patience with one that he deked twice and ended up high sticking and wound up in the penalty box. Billy, the well behaved one, also deked and almost hit me in the head. Poor Lars, the stand-in, could hardly keep the puck out of the goal posts. Meanwhile, I, the quick one, was about to hobble the captain on the other side because the son of a bitch was moving too fast that I could hardly catch up to it.

These damn bots are good. Too good in fact. It's like they were specifically made to beat humans at hockey.

The only time I did score was when Marcia and Sonia arrived and the former chucked a milkshake at one of the bots which allowed me to scoop up the little black puck. I pretty much sprinted down the rink with the puck right in front of me, and I was moving so fast that I hardly paid attention to where I was going. I leaned so far back that I almost fell on my hip shooting the puck into the goal posts and between that goalie's legs.

“YES!” I shouted, and that's when I fall right on my ass. The goalie sidles away from there, right around me to the other side of the rink.

Spence flies over to me with his hand outstretched for me. I climb onto my feet as if I'm on firm hard ground instead of ice. I strip off my mask, and rub my eyes and my nose with the back of my glove. I notice the robots are filing out of the rink.

“Is that game?” I ask him in a broken voice.

“It is,” he informs with a look of disappointment on his face. “What the fuck was that?”

“I'll tell you what the fuck was that,” I quip to him, “we bombed, that's what the fuck was that.”

“That was brutal,” Barney joins in from the side; he's out of breath and his face is flushed. This is probably the one time I've ever seen Barney truly exhausted.

“How's Lars, by the way?” I ask him, and he points down the rink to where Lars is laying flat on his back on the ice. Billy is approaching us from behind Barney: he, too, looks beat.

“He was working harder than I imagined,” he answers me.

“Oh, I don't believe this,” I scoff at that. I lead the three of them to the other side of the ice, where the robots have already left and Marcia and Sonia are congregated at the entrance huddled down in their coats. Once I come closer, I make out the look of agony on Lars' face.

“You alright?” I ask him, reaching out my hand for him to take.

“My knee,” he moans, “one of those—bloody machines—strained my knee so much. Oh—God dammit.”

I lift my gaze to the two girls at the entrance and I make my way over to them.

“Here, hold these.” I hand Marcia my stick and my mask before doubling back to the goal posts. I stoop down to pick him up: it's tricky doing so on ice but I managed to do it anyways. I hold Lars close to my chest as I make my way towards the entrance.

“Sonia—on the wall to your left is a pair of long grayish blocks. Those are the guards for my skates. Could you be a dear and help put those on for me please?”

“Yeah, sure—”

Still cradling Lars in my arms, I lift up one leg for her to put on the first one, followed by the other. And at that point, Lars is feeling rather heavy against my arms and I stagger over to the shed so as to set him down on one of the benches. I lay him flat on his back with his legs stretched to ease the pain on his knee. Breathing hard, I collapse right on the bench next to him. I give my curls a toss before proceeding to untie my skates. Sonia emerges in the doorway with Marcia right behind her.

“We were not expecting all that,” Sonia remarks to me.

“You're telling me!” I reply to her, taking off my gloves so I can better unlace my skates. “That last shot I did was one for the money, I know it.”

“We should tell you guys,” Marcia begins, poking her head over her sister's shoulder, “Chris and Matt told us that there's a little band playing just to the south of here tomorrow night that we think you boys'll really like.”

“How far south from here?” Lars asks her, lifting his head from the bench.

“Little town called Hoquiam,” she replies. “Not too far from here. They're called—Nirvana, I think is what Chris said.”

“They said they're like their little brothers,” Sonia adds.

“Sweet,” I tell them, unlacing my skates. “By the way, you ladies gonna join us over at Denny's?”

“We might as well,” says Sonia with a shrug. “We owe the two of you a lunch anyways.”

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centralparkpawsblog · 5 years ago

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Blue Buffalo vs Purina Pro Plan

https://www.centralparkpaws.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/Purina-Pro-Plan-Savor-Adult-Shredded-Blend-chicken-rice-dog-food-brand-comparison.jpg When I was growing up, I never thought too much about what our family dog was eating.

I would go with my dad to pick up new bags of dog food at our local pet store every once and a while, but that was all I knew.

I figured that dogs ate the same brand of food for most of the lives, only changing things up when they entered the different life stages on the front of the dog bags.

Bringing home my own dog has been a life changing experience.

She’s gone through phases where certain types of food irritated her stomach and one even gave her an allergic reaction!

It’s not uncommon for dogs to change their dietary preferences and needs as they age, which is why I study the different brands that are out there.

Check out the research I found when I compared Blue Buffalo and Purina Pro Plan.

It might change your mind about which one you should feed your dog.

Purina’s Company History

Purina’s history began in 1894, when William Danforth partnered with two other men to found the Robinson-Danforth Commission Company[1]. In 1902, the name was changed to Ralston Purina.

After working on their dog food blend for many years, its first major success was when it was fed to dogs on Admiral Richard E. Byrd’s Antarctic expedition in 1933[2].

The dogs were able to thrive even in the harshest conditions.

Since then, Purina has become one of the biggest brands in the dog food industry.

Best Sellers

Purina has many different lines of dog foods, but these are the top three Purina Pro Plan best sellers that people come back for again and again[3]:

Purina Pro Plan Bright Mind Adult 7+ Chicken and Rice Formula

Purina Pro Plan Focus Adult Large Breed Formula

Purina Pro Plan Focus Adult Sensitive Skin and Stomach, Lamb and Oatmeal Formula

While Purina sells Pro Plan blends for different life stages and breed sizes, their Bright Mind and Focus blends have particularly resonated with consumers.

This isn’t the first time we’ve compared Purina with another dog food company. How did Purina fare against IAMS?

Blue Buffalo’s Company History

People always say they’d do anything for their dog, and the Blue Buffalo founding family did exactly that.

When their dog, Blue, went for a check up at the vet and came back with a cancer diagnosis, the family dove into studying how they could optimize his nutrition.

This led to the creation of many different homemade blends, until they ended up with the one they liked.

Their BLUE Life Protection Formula became the foundation of their Blue Buffalo company.

Now, the company makes super premium pet food with only the best ingredients they can find, always calling back to the importance of natural nutrition for dogs.

Best Sellers

Blue Buffalo continues to improve on their original Life Protection Formula, which has made it the number one dog food in the country[4].

It has many different variations, which include their best selling products[5]:

BLUE Life Protection Formula Adult Chicken and Brown Rice Recipe

BLUE Life Protection Formula Adult Fish and Brown Rice Recipe

BLUE Life Protection Formula Puppy Chicken and Brown Rice Recipe

Given the Life Protection Formulas for all the life stages of a dog, these best selling products continue to meet the needs of many dog owners.

Blue Buffalo is a popular brand. But, is it the best? We tested Blue Buffalo against Fromm!

Recalls

Both of these brands have been around for many years, so they’ve each had a few recalls that potential consumers should be aware of.

Purina Recalls

Purina’s dog food was last recalled in March of 2016, since some of the wet dog food was lacking the right mineral and vitamin levels[6].

They were also recalled in 2013 for a potential salmonella contamination[7].

Blue Buffalo Recalls

Blue Buffalo most recently faced a recall in March of 2017, since further studies revealed toxic levels of lead in some of their wet dog food[8].

Over the last six years, they’ve also been recalled for having high levels of vitamin D[9], dangerous levels of mold[10], the presence of salmonella[11], and chunks of aluminum metal[12] in their dog foods.

What’s Important When Choosing a Dog Food?

Now that dog owners can see what food is available at pet stores and online, there’s a lot to choose from.

Here’s what you should consider before bringing any dog food home:

Many dog foods contain chicken. But, is all chicken equal?

Ingredients

Does your dog have any allergies or sensitivities?

Are you concerned about them eating only fresh ingredients?

Every dog owner should look at the ingredients listed on a dog food bag to see what their dog would actually be eating if they purchased it.

Price

How much are you willing to spend for a higher quality food?

Consider what your dog food budget is and how often you’ll be buying new dog food to determine what the best price is for you.

Availability

Some towns don’t have many pet stores for owners to visit, and some people may not be able to get deliveries at their home.

Make sure to check where you can get the dog food you’re thinking about purchasing for your dog to figure out its availability.

Taste

You’ll want to read online about what other dogs think about the food and even give your pup a taste test before fully committing to a brand.

Dogs shouldn’t have to eat food every day that they hate just because it fits a budget or is easy to find.

Brand Reliability

Once you’ve found the brands you like, research them.

You may find that they face frequent recalls or make some dogs sick, which won’t be something you’ll find out just by looking at the bag at a store.

Comparison of Purina vs Blue Buffalo

So how do these two brands stack up against each other?

Let’s find out.

Ingredients

Winner: Blue Buffalo

While I like that Purina is trusted by so many dog owners, I’m not so sure about their ingredients.

On the list for their first big best seller bag, one of the first ingredients is “poultry by-product meal”[13].

I looked it up and apparently by-product meal is when they grind up cleaned parts of a chicken carcass[14], which often contains things like undeveloped eggs and bones.

That’s supposed to make the food have a higher level of protein, but I would never let Maggie chew on a chicken carcass.

Why let it be in her dog food?

Blue Buffalo has many more recognizable ingredients on the list for their best-selling blend[15].

Blue Buffalo, on the other hand…

I’m not a fan of the second product being chicken meal, but that’s different from by-product meal.

Chicken meal is a combination of chicken flesh and skin that isn’t originally used in the food[16]. It’s cooked and ground up to add more protein.

Blue Buffalo wins the ingredients round for me.

It just doesn’t feel right to imagine feeding my dog powdered chicken carcasses.

Price/Value

Winner: Purina…?

Something every dog owner knows is that Blue Buffalo is expensive, but their prices are becoming much more competitive with other brands.

Purina’s specialty offerings are more expensive, but still not as expensive as Blue Buffalo

They average out at $50 per 25 pound bag[17].

On the other hand, Purina’s 20 pound bags are typically around $15-20[18], depending on where you’re looking.

That price is so low, it actually concerns me.

It makes me wonder how many fillers are actually in their food.

I’m used to paying $45-50 per bag of food for Maggie, so I’d much rather stick with Blue Buffalo’s price.

It’s much more than Purina, but it makes more sense to me to put my money with the food that uses fresh, whole ingredients.

Availability

Winner: Tie

These are both big brands, so they’re available at most pet stores and online.

That makes it easy for people to restock their dog food even on their busiest days, so they tie in availability.

Shop Blue Buffalo on Amazon

Shop Blue Buffalo on Chewy

Shop Purina Pro Plan on Amazon

Shop Purina Pro Plan on Chewy

Taste

Winner: Depends

It’s always really up to your dog to decide whether the dog food brand is a keeper.

If they like the taste of the food, it may be worth it to stick with the brand.

Brand Reliability

Winner: Purina

Purina has less of a history with recalls than Blue Buffalo does, so that may sway some dog owners into becoming their customers.

But both have had recalls on wet dog food, so that should be considered by any dog owners who need to get wet food for their dog.

Winner

Winner: Blue Buffalo

While price and availability are huge influences on which dog food brands people buy, this comparison came down to ingredients for me.

It really concerns me that Purina has by-product meal in their food and that their food is so cheap.

I don’t want Maggie eating fillers every day, which is why I’d go with Blue Buffalo before I’d ever buy Purina.

Think about all these factors for yourself before deciding which brand you should buy for your dog.

Resources

https://www.purina.com/about-purina

https://www.pressreader.com/usa/readers-digest/20190301/281517932267486

https://www.purina.com/dogs/dog-food/dry

https://www.wsj.com/articles/meet-blue-founder-of-americas-top-natural-pet-food-brand-1519416803

https://bluebuffalo.com/product-finder/dog/?facets=

https://news.vin.com/vinnews.aspx?articleId=51391

https://www.foodsafetynews.com/2013/09/purina-one-beyond-dry-dog-food-recalled-for-salmonella-risk/

https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/does-blue-buffalo-contain-toxic-levels-lead/

https://news.vin.com/vinnews.aspx?articleId=51391

https://www.seviernewsmessenger.com/2016/05/31/blue-buffalo-dry-dog-food-recall/

https://www.upi.com/Top_News/US/2018/02/24/FDA-issues-2-more-pet-food-recalls-listeria-salmonella-found/5171519499067/

https://www.consumeraffairs.com/news/index/2017/03/

https://www.purina.com/pro-plan/dogs/dry-dog-food/bright-mind-senior-chicken-rice

https://www.petmd.com/dog/nutrition/evr_pet_food_for_your_pets_sake

https://bluebuffalo.com/natural-dog-food/healthy-holistic-blue-life-protection-formula/dry-food/lpf-adult-chicken-and-brown-rice-recipe/

https://www.petmd.com/dog/nutrition/evr_pet_food_for_your_pets_sake

http://theconnectiontcc.com/2019/07/09/dog-traction-rope-emerging-markets-analysis-regional-demand-growth-and-forecast-to-2024/

http://thescrippsvoice.com/market-research-news/160862/wet-pet-food-market-report-forecast-by-industry-insights-volume-opportunities-type-product-analysis-and-application/

The post Blue Buffalo vs Purina Pro Plan appeared first on Central Park Paws.

from https://www.centralparkpaws.net/dog-food/blue-buffalo-vs-purina-pro-plan/

#dogs #cats #pets #reviews

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zoocross0vers · 6 years ago

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Raspberries Challenge #4: Bambi

Just apologizing in advance, this one’s actually pretty long. Guess I got too excited with this one, hehe ^^”

Oh yeah, there’s a cameo in this one too from too previously seen Disney characters! Yay! xD

Enjoy! :D

@wildehopps-rasps

...

Raspberries Challenge #4: Bambi

Twitterpated

Spring was always such a lovely time in Zootopia. The sun was shining bright with life, the flowers were blooming, and everywhere throughout the city young couples were singing a chippery little spring song!

Let’s sing a gay little spring song,

This is the season to sing

So I’d like to suggest

That we all do our best

And warble a song about spring,

Spring, spring, spring

Let’s get together and sing,

Yes, all over Zootopia couples of all shapes and sizes were getting into the spring spirit. Young couples to be exact -- whether they be of the same gender, same species or mixed species, everyone was showing love toward their significant other in one way or another.

Let’s sing a gay little spring song

Just like the bird on the wing

Things always seem right

When you’re chipper and bright

So let’s get together and sing

Sing, sing, sing

Let’s sing a song about spring,

Spring’s influence resonated everywhere throughout the city, but most evidently at the park. Couples at the park were expressing their love for each other in their own unique ways.

There were two pigs snuggling snouts. A couple of elephants walked along the concrete path, holding trunks. And a teenage racoon gave a teenage vixen a flower. She gave him a peck on the cheek and the young raccoon sighed.

Let’s twitter and tweet,

A young male wildebeest literally tweeted his girlfriend a kissy face emoji with a heart. His girlfriend, who sat on the opposite side of the bench received his tweet and sent him a kissy face emoji as well. They looked back over to one another with a loving gaze.

Practically everyone was falling victim to spring’s influence...

Like the birdies in May

Get into the mood

And be merry today

Forget all your troubles and warble away,

That is...everyone except Bogo, the middle aged water buffalo that served as the Chief of Police in the city’s Precinct 1. It was his day off and the tired old water buffalo napped at one of the park benches. He thought to get away from all the lovey dovey attitudes going on around his neighborhood and assumed the park would be the perfect quiet place to get away from it all -- boy was he wrong.

He took one last snore before sputtering awake. “Wha--? Who-Who's ther--” Bogo looked around to realize that spring truly was everywhere! Nowhere was safe, not even his usual quiet spot in the park. “Oh what now?” he groaned, annoyed with it all.

Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do

Oh!

Let’s sing a gay little spring song

Music’s a wonderful thing

He looked around. There were chippery and merry young couples all around him. It was like a plague! “Hey! Hey!” yelled the grumpy water buffalo, “Stop that racket! Scat! Shoo! Shoo!” His angry shouts fell on deaf ears as everyone continued to sing and act lovey dovey toward one another.

Come on and rejoice,

At the top of your voice

Oh, let’s sing a song about spring

Spring, Spring, spring

“I’ll show them.” He cleared his throat with a very polite, “Ahem,” spoke as gently as he could, “Excuse me, but could you all just please be a little more...QUIET!!!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. That finally got a reaction as all the young couples at the park immediately flinched and grew quiet, greatly intimidated by the buffalo.

“There,” he huffed triumphantly, “That's more like it.” He resumed his nap. Only to be awakened from it two seconds later when everyone resumed their singing again.

Let’s get together and sing

Let’s sing a gay little spring song

This is the season to sing,

Ah, ah, ah

Bogo sputtered awake again. He covered his ears, while simultaneously gripping his head in frustration, “Oh, what's the use?” He got up and left. Opting to seek out a quieter section of the park to continue his nap.

He moved to a quieter, less occupied area and found a lone bench. The grumpy buffalo plopped himself down, “Same thing every spring,” he grumbled annoyedly. “Let's sing a little song about spring,” he mocked, “ Love’s sweet song,” he cupped his hooves and batted his eyes. “Bleh! Pain in the tail is what it is.” Bogo crossed his arms in a huff and yawned. With his eyes growing heavy, he resumed his nap and snored for about five seconds when--

“Flowers sir?”

“Aah! Wha--?!” Bogo awoke in a shock, waking up to the sight of flowers pressed against his face. He looked down to the mammal holding the bouquet of flowers -- it was a somewhat familiar looking red fox with emerald eyes dressed in a green Pawaiian shirt, brown khakis, and a red and blue tie. “What is this?”

“Flowers! It is spring! Care to buy some for your sweetheart? This pretty little number right here is going at half the price you’d pay for it at the store.”

“Swee--? Look fox, I’m not interested in buying flowers!” Bogo shoved the flowers away from his face.

The red fox held on tightly to his flowers, ensuring that they didn't fall from his grasp. “Boy, I’ll bet the ladies just go crazy for you with that irresistible charm--” The fox said, before taking a good look at the buffalo. “Bogo?”

The grumpy buffalo’s eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”

“You really don't recognize me?” the fox scoffed casually, “And here I thought I made more of an impact given how angry you used to get whenever I played in your yard.”

Bogo’s jaw dropped, “Wilde? Nick Wilde?!” the buffalo exclaimed in surprise.

“The one and only!” Nick stated casually.

“My, my you haven't changed a bit! ...What a shame,” he muttered at the end.

“Ha! Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor there Buffalo Butt.”

“Shut your mouth Wilde!” Bogo rebuked in a huff.

Nick gave him a cocky smile, missing this type of banter from his old next door neighbor.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Bogo inquired curiously, “I thought you moved away ever since your mother…”

Nick's ears fell back in sadness. Bogo’s words reminding him of the day he lost his mother years ago when he was a nine year old kit. She had been taken from him when a vengeful criminal stalked and followed them on their way home from school. He could still remember the terror in his mother’s eyes when they reached a fenced alleyway. She had managed to create a hole for him to crawl through and once she was sure he was on the other side, she had told him to run to the neighbor’s home and call his father. Nick initially refused until his mother promised him that she would meet him there. Nick trusted her and fled. The last thing he remembered was seeing her running back out the opposite end of the alleyway, luring their stalker away from him -- and desperately shouting to him to run and not look back.

After that, he could only very vaguely recall hearing a single loud piercing sound...then silence…

His mother never arrived to Bogo’s home as she promised she would.

Bogo called Nick’s father, Jonathan Wilde, who was the highly respected Chief of Police of Zootopia’s precinct one at the time. His father arrived some hours later to pick the boy up from Bogo’s home and told Nick the sad, terrible news that his mother couldn’t be with him anymore.

Given his father’s position, Nick hardly ever saw him during his first few years of life as he was always busy ‘protecting the city from bad mammals’ -- as his mother would put it. Heavy responsibility was hardly the only thing his father had to worry about however, as his position also brought forth many risks -- particularly the risk of crime lords and other criminals vowing revenge on the chief reynard for putting them away behind bars.

After his mother was killed, Chief Wilde had spend countless hours, days, weeks, and months to capture his wife’s murderer, but he was ultimately unsuccessful. Though he never openly expressed his grief, Nick could still see the hurt in his father’s eyes whenever he would ask him about his mother’s killer. The last time he had asked, Nick was ten years old and the only answer his father had given him was that he had asked for a transfer to a different precinct in another district.

Nearly twenty years had passed since then and Nick decided to finally come back to Zootopia. For what purpose he had no idea, he simply felt the need to come back to his old childhood home.

Bogo noticed the fox’s sudden silence and felt a wave of guilt for having reminded him of such a tragic memory. “I-I’m sorry,” Bogo said apologetically, “I probably shouldn't have said anything.”

“No, it's alright.” Nick replied, forcing a sympathetic smile as silence fell on them both.

Bogo cleared his throat, hoping to clear the depressing awkwardness in the air. “Well, in any case... it's good to see you again.” Bogo smiled sincerely.

Nick returned an appreciative smile, then returned to his usual cocky bravado. “Come on, don’t go getting soft on me buffalo butt. Being friendly doesn’t suit you.”

“And there he is again,” Bogo said annoyed.

Nick chuckled, “It’s good to see you too my literal old friend.”

Bogo huffed, once again annoyed.

“Hello there Nick!” a striped gray hare called out from behind the two. He wore a black suit and tie. Very formal looking and had piercing icy blue eyes. “Remember me?” he asked with a large welcoming smile.

“Stripes!” Nick called out happily, immediately recognizing his old childhood friend.

“Right-O!” the hare replied with a chuckle.

Bogo peeked behind Nick, also recognizing the striped hare. “Young Jack Savage, is that really you?”

“Ah, I see you’re here as well Commissioner Bogo. It’s an honor to see you once again sir,” replied the hare politely.

“Nice to see you too Savage. At least it’s nice to know you grew up to be polite, unlike some mammals,” Bogo huffed, glaring at Nick, who simply shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well I suppose I owe that to my mother. She was always quick to remind me of my father’s teachings,” Jack turned to Nick, “How have you been Nick? I haven’t seen you since we were children.”

“Eh, I just moved to a different city with my dad, got bored of it so I decided to come back. Start my own life back home,” Nick replied casually.

“And how goes it?” Jack inquired curiously.

“Well, I just got back yesterday, but I recently got in touch with Finnick and we’re going into business together.”

“Business?” Bogo echoed surprised, “You mean you’re not going into police work like your father?”

“Nah,” Nick brushed off the suggestion with a wave of his paw, “I’m not really cut out for the cop life like him. Not with all the trouble it brought him.”

“I’m surprised as well,” added Jack, “You always seemed so adamant about growing up to be just like him when we were children. To be a ‘Great Chief of Police’ as you would put it.”

“Yeah, well...things change.” Nick brushed it off, attempting to hide the fact that his reluctance stemmed from his mother’s incident. “ Besides,” he grinned coolly, “With my smooth talking skills, I think my skills are best put into business.”

Jack noticed the flowers in his paw, “Are you planning to become a florist?”

“Until Spring ends, you betcha!”

Bogo raised a curious brow, “Why only until Spring?”

“Because,” Nick replied confidently, “Finnick tells me flower sales tend to go up during this time of year here in Zootopia. So we’re gonna strike while the iron is hot.”

Jack scratched his chin pensively, “Yes, I see. That’s actually rather smart. Do you think I can enter into this business venture with you? Father actually wanted me to take over his farming industry, but I told him I wanted to venture out into the city to try my luck with my own business and this sounds like an excellent starting point.”

“Sure,” Nick agreed, “We could use someone with some math and flower skills. Although just so you know, we plan on shifting to selling pawpsicles once summer rolls by.”

“That’s fine. The more experiences the better. Though I must ask who is your supplier for the flowers? Must we look into forming a connection with botanists or farms?”

“No need,” Nick answered without a care in the world, “Our supplier is right over there.” Nick pointed to a flower patch on the park’s grass.

Jack looked on at the patch, confused, “But that’s just a barren patch?”

“Exactly!” Nick replied.

“Wilde, for your mother and father’s sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you just confess to stealing those flowers straight from the park’s flower patches,” Bogo stated with his usual gruffness.

“Well if you know a better place to pick wildflowers then by all means let me know,” Nick replied with a cheeky grin.

Bogo face-palmed a hoof on his face, “How are you your father’s son, I’ll never know.”

“Hey fellas!” called a gruff, heavy voice from behind them. It was a small fennec fox with a black and red bowler shirt and black shorts. He pulled a red wagon full of flower bouquets.

“Finnick!” Nick called out happily to him, excited to see his best friend after so many years. “You…” Nick paused, taking a good look at him. He snickered lightly, holding back his desire to laugh, “Looks like you haven’t changed a bit there buddy!”

“I’ll say,” Bogo said equally shocked at his short height.

“Ha,ha. Funny. Like I don’t know you’re talkin’ about my height.” Finnick gruffed annoyedly.

“Sorry about that buddy,” Nick offered him a friendly paw, “Good to see you again old pal.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Finnick shook his paw. “So we ready to do this Nick? We’re burnin’ daylight .”

“Sure. By the way, Jack here says he wants to join us.”

“You?” Finnick scoffed, “I thought your dad had a business plan for you?”

“He did, but I don’t want any part of it,” answered the hare, “I’d rather venture into business with you two.”

“Alright then,” Finnick gave in, “You deal with the money, Nick and me ‘ill work the crowd.” He handed Jack the black cash box.

“You boys never change,” Bogo muttered. The three younger mammals turned to face him, “You’ve been doing this since you were kits. Don’t any of you remember? Nick and Finnick here would come up with troublesome schemes...normally involving my lawn in some way...and then poor Jack would somehow end up getting dragged into them.”

“Hey it’s not our fault Jack is a literal dumb bunny,” Nick said casually.

“True, it’s not my fault I’m a--hey!” Jack frowned while Nick simply gave him a cheeky grin.

Out of nowhere, a young interspecies couple consisting of a tigress and a panda sauntered in front of the four mammals -- waltzing with a weightless grace.

The four stared at them dumbfoundedly, but more so the three younger mammals. “Huh, what’s up with them?” Finnick asked confused once the couple passed them by.

“Why are they behaving that way?” Jack added, just as equally confused.

Bogo chuckled, “Don’t you know?” Bogo leaned closer, as if to whisper to them, “They’re twitterpated.”

“Twtitterpated?” the three young mammals echoed.

“Yes, nearly everybody gets twitterpated in the Springtime,” Bogo continued, shifting his gaze left and right as if fearful of others listening in to their conversation. “For example,” Bogo stood, walking in place. “You’re walking along, minding your own business. You look neither to the left, nor to the right. Then all of a sudden...you run smack into a pretty face.” Bogo jumped, letting out a scream to scare the three.

Jack jumped into Finnick’s arms, scared by the buffalo��s sudden scream and terrifying tale. “Get off” growled Finnick, dropping Jack on his tail.

Bogo jittered his knees, continuing with his terrifying description of love, “You begin to get weak in the knees. Your heads in a whirl! And then you feel light as a feather,” Bogo cups his hoofs and bats his eyes, leaping ever so weightlessly into the air, “And before you know it, you’re walking on air. And then you know what? You’re knocked for a loop!” Bogo punched himself on the cheek, spinning in place. “And you completely lose your head!”

“Gosh! That’s awful!” Jack gasped fearfully.

“Dang,” added Finnick.

“Terrible,” Nick said.

“And that’s not all,” Bogo said, stalking slowly towards them, hiding his face behind his hooves, “It can happen to anybody. So you better be careful. It could happen to you!” He pointed at Nick, “And you!” He pointed at Jack, “And…” Bogo stopped, hesitating with Finnick. Would any girl really be interested in a small, child-looking fox like him? Well, he is an adult regardless of his size and face...Bogo reasoned.

“Yes, it could even happen to you!” Bogo said, pointing at Finnick. Finnick merely frowned in annoyance, knowing why Bogo would doubt any female could ever fall in love with him.

“Well, it’s not going to happen to me,” Jack stated after growing terrified of how enslaving love sounds.

“Me neither,” Nick stated as well, equally terrified of love’s hold.

“Me neither. There’s no way I’m lettin’ some filly control my life,” Finnick stated in agreement.

“There you have it,” Nick replied with his cool, confident bravado, “So if you don’t mind, we have a business to run.” Nick gave a confident wink and a two finger salute to the buffalo, leading his two friends with his head held high. His two business associates followed suit, walking away with their backs straight and chins up.

The three poised mammals walked through the park, keeping their prideful strides in tact and pulling their wagon of bouquets.

Not too far ahead of them, a beautiful Gazelle sat beside a flower bush covered with white flowers. With a flower in her hooves, she picked at the petals in a “he loves me, he loves me not” manner, until she was left with only one petal, causing her to sigh with a smile -- surely ending at “he loves me”.

The gazelle’s ear flickered, hearing the footsteps of approaching mammals. She glanced back to catch sight of Nick, Jack, and Finnick approaching in her direction. The gazelle smiled wide when she saw the three young males, but more so when her eyes landed on Finnick.

She blushed at the sight of him, for as tall as she was, there was always something about short males that immediately called to her. Perhaps it was because they tended to have this weird combination of handsome, yet a plushie adorableness to them -- and the fennec in her sights, certainly had both those qualities -- along with an air of confidence to him.

Eager to meet him, the gazelle plucked another flower from the flower bush and placed it in her tuft of blonde hair and then hid behind one of the taller flower bushes.

The three males rolled by. First Nick, then Jack, and last but not least Finnick who immediately stopped in his tracks the second his large ears heard a flirtatious giggle emanate from the bush. He turned to face it and spotted what looked like feminine light brown colored eyes peeking at him from between the flowers. Finnick’s own light brown eyes widened. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Was he seeing things? Or did this flower bush have eyes?!

Finnick looked back at the flowers only to spot the source of the eyes peeking her head out from the flowers. He took a few steps back when he came face to face with the mystery gazelle’s pretty face. “U-Uh...hey,” he stuttered nervously with a brief smile and looked back at his friends who were still marching, unaware that he had broken off from their group. Finnick tried to walk away and regroup back with the guys when the gazelle giggled again.

Her giggle, it was like a pan flute to mice to him. He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her again. Only now she had finally stepped out from behind the flowers and he managed a full view of her. She was tall, much taller than him and she had a very curvy physique. Finnick’s jaw dropped at the sight of her and his mouth felt fry. She wore tight blue jeans and a white t-shirt that accentuated her lovely figure.

The gazelle sauntered over to him, moving her hips side to side. “Hi I’m Gazelle. What’s your name cutie?”

“Fu-Fennec…”

Gazelle giggled, noticing the tiny fox’s nervousness. “That’s a strange name.”

“I mean, I’m a fennec fox!” Finnick immediately shook his head, only now noticing that he messed up on his own name. “Sorry, let me start over,” He took a breath, realizing he’s been acting like a moron. Seriously what’s wrong with him?! A girl is flirting with him! He’s gotta put those smooth moves to work! He stuffed his paws into his pockets and cleared his throat to start over, “Hey, how ya doin’ girl? The name’s Finnick.”

“Charmed to meet you Finnick,” Gazelle extended her hoof down to him. The flower perched in her hair falling to the ground as she crouched down, “Oops!”

“Don’t worry I got it,” Finnick immediately ducked down to grab the flower like a gentlemammal, “There ya g--” The second he lifted his head up to offer the flower back to her, she also happened to look up to him, causing both their lips to meet in a kiss.

The second he felt Gazelle’s lips on his mouth, Finnick’s golden fur immediately grew redder than a red fox’s and his body stiffened as did his upright tail. Finnick fell back like a slab of concrete, landing first on his back, then head, then face and belly first. He peeked up at her. She smiled.

In the distance, Nick and Jack continued onward. “So how much farther till we reach this sweet spot Finn? Finn?” Nick turned back only to realize that Finnick was no longer with them. Jack crashed into the red fox not noticing that he had stopped in his tracks. The hare turned back to look where Nick’s attention was and saw that Finnick was casually walking away with a tall pretty gazelle beside him.

Finnick glanced back and realized that his friends were glaring at him from a distance. Not knowing what to say, Finnick simply shrugged and chuckled as if saying ‘c’est la vie!’ Finnick placed a paw on Gazelle’s calf and continued on his way with her.

Jack huffed offended, “Twitterpated.”

“I’ll say,” Nick scoffed, equally upset at their friend. Nick went over to grab their abandoned wagon with the bouquets. “Great, this was all Finn’s idea and he’s the one to abandon ship. Talk about not letting some ‘filly’ control his life.”

“Fear not, Nick old boy. I still know where most mammals tend to gather during this time of the year. Do you still remember the 'the watering hole’ fountain where we used to play during the summer?”

“You mean the one we used to collect wish coins from to buy ourselves some pawpsicles? How could I forget!”

Jack frowned, “You know mother was quite angry with me when she realized I was doing that.”

“Eh, so was mine, but you gotta admit it was worth it. Now come on we got flowers to sell,” Nick said as he slapped Jack on the back, ushering him forward. The two mammals continued on their way, Nick at the forefront pulling the wagon of bouquets and Jack following close behind him.

Ahead of them in the nearby distance, sat a pale-yellow furred vixen with sapphire colored eyes underneath a tree. She wore beige colored khaki overalls and a striped black and white elbow length top. The vixen sat eating yogurt covered strawberries and reading a romance novel titled, The Business Mammal and the Inventor, a novel about a male business rabbit who gave a young struggling inventor her first big break. She didn’t know what she loved better -- the scientific innovations the female protagonist would conjure up or the depiction of the gentle, yet strong no nonsense attitude of the male rabbit who served as the head of the company and was the only one kind enough to give the protagonist's inventions a chance.

The vixen sighed, bringing the book to her chest. She had just finished reading the best part where the male rabbit shared a kiss with the leading lady, thanking her for his company's success. Though she was a vixen and therefore the natural enemy of rabbits and other lapins, she couldn't help but feel deeply attracted to the male rabbit and the novel. Plus the writer’s descriptions of him -- gentle, adorably naive in a certain way, soft, cuddly, yet strong, proper, brave, classy, a bit uptight and conservative but in a good way -- it had her curious about perhaps crossing the line and dating outside her species. If only she could find someone like him...with those tall ears…

Just then, the vixen heard the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to see a somewhat scruffy --- yet to be fair -- handsome looking male fox and right behind him she saw just what she was looking for! Behind the fox was a gorgeous male hare in a black business suit! The vixen’s jaw immediately dropped, “Oh!” she let out a dreamy gasp. She just had to get his attention!

The vixen hid behind the tree trunk and waited for the fox to pass. Once the hare was about to pass her by too, she immediately let out an attention grabbing “Ahem.”

It worked! The striped hare immediately froze in his tracks. He turned to see the beautiful vixen curling her long fluffy tail in a coquettish manner. Jack’s cheeks burned red and his eyes bulged at the sight of her. The vixen hid her face behind her tail, then moved it to bat her eyes at him.

Jack felt his gaped mouth grow dry. Strange. He had spend most of his life around foxes both in his neighborhood and even at school and he had always been fine around them. So why was it then that this vixen had such a hold on him?

But perhaps it was that. He had spent so much time around them that there were times he felt like he was one of them. Not to mention, there were times when he felt attraction towards some of his vixen classmates in the past. What with their long fluffy tails and their cunning natures and this vixen was no exception. She was the absolute most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

The female fox coquettishly made her way toward him, humming a light little tune, “La, la, la, la-la, la”. Once right in front of him, she batted her eyes once more to him, “Hello,” she said in a sultry voice, “I’m Skye and you are?”

Jack couldn't say anything. He merely took a deep gulp and felt his bulging eyes pulse as his ears twisted into one another. He was like a deer in headlights. Skye giggled at his shyness, “I don't know if you can tell, but I really like stripes on a mammal. I think they make you look...cute.”

That made Jack finally react, “O-Oh? Thank you, although you really shouldn't call a bunny cu--” As he spoke Skye slowly moved her muzzle toward his and placed a soft kiss on his lips, causing the shocked hare to immediately thump his foot to the ground in excitement.

Skye pulled back realizing his foot has yet to stop thumping. She pressed a finger to his nose, causing the hare to stop thumping his foot.

With an love dazed expression on his face, Jack continued with his previous statement, “But you may call me cute if you like,” he fell forward on his belly during his elated haze, while Skye cupped her paws together and wagged her tail happily.

In the distance, Nick reached the fountain. He turned back to talk to Jack only to realize the hare was no longer with him. Nick’s ears perked in surprise. Where could he have gone? He looked further back and saw Jack curled up on a vixen's tail.

Jack had a goofy smile on his face all the while Skye played with one of his ears. She flicked at it with her paw while once again singing, “La-la, la, la. La, la,laaaaa…” She held onto that last note, flicking his ear even faster. The sensation to his sensitive ears and the excitement of it all caused his foot to thump again.

Nick frowned and shook his head, “Traitor,” he grumped under his breath. Great, now he was all alone on his business venture. Though it was Spring, it was still a fairly warm day so Nick decided to pull his wagon to a nearby water fountain to drink some water before setting up camp to sell.

He started to drink when he suddenly heard a feminine voice speak to him, “Hello Nick.” Nick spit the water back down in shock. He looked up and saw a drop dead gorgeous gray rabbit with the most beautiful yet somehow familiar amethyst colored eyes he had ever seen. Nick gulped and his jaw slacked as the smooth talking fox felt his brain shut off at the mere sight of the pretty rabbit. The mystery bunny giggled, “Don't you remember me, Slick? I'm Judy.”

Judy?! Nick thought, at last feeling his brain function once more. It was no wonder he recognized her! How could he ever forget her? The two met as children when his mother used to work at the neighborhood bakery shop. He remembered that Mr. and Mrs. Hopps used to come all the way from Bunny Burrow to deliver fruits to the bakery. And every time they came they would always bring their little spitfire five year old daughter Judy along with them. Ugh, how much she would annoy him back then. Especially when she gave him his first kiss -- the one he had never asked for! I mean he was only eight at the time. Yuck!

Regardless of that kiss however, he’d always look forward to seeing her every chance he got! He never wanted to admit it, especially not to her, but he actually really liked that kiss.

And now, years later...he was finally meeting her again…

“Carrots…” Nick quietly uttered the nickname he had given her as he took in the sight of her full grown curvy figure that was well complemented by her pink flannel shirt and blue jeans. This wasn't the cute little dumb bunny he remembered. No, this was that same little bunny but now blossomed into a beautiful young lady.

Judy giggled at his stunned behavior and took a few steps forward, causing the nervous fox to take a few steps back. “I'm glad to hear you remember me, slick Nick.”

“H-How could I not remember a pretty--I-I mean dumb bunny like yo--ahh!” Nick fell back, tripping on his wagon of bouquets.

Judy gasped as the fox was covered in flowers and petals. Nick looked up at her, severely embarrassed by what just happened. Who was he kidding...anybody could see through his ‘sly, uncaring’ ruse. He was smitten by the bunny and she was forcing him to display a vulnerable side that no one had ever seen before.

An air of awkwardness lie between them, until Judy snickered a light-hearted giggle. Despite his embarrassment, Nick found himself also snickering a chuckle. In an attempt to play it cool, Nick grabbed one of the bouquets that was still in tact and offered it to the bunny, “For you Carrots.”

Judy’s eyes widened and she smiled. She took the bouquet in her paws and smelled them. She blushed, “Thank you Nick. They’re beautiful.”

Nick felt his heart beat wildly in his chest at the mere sight of her gentle smile. He felt himself blush as he chuckled nervously. Then without warning, Judy moved her muzzle close to his cheek. Nick gasped quietly and closed his eyes as he felt the bunny place a soft kiss on his cheek.

Nick’s eyes immediately popped open as he felt his head spin in a heavenly daze. The corners of his mouth rose in a goofy grin. The red fox sighed, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head. Bogo was right. The second he felt that bunny kiss him, he felt light as a feather! And he could swear he was literally in heaven, with nothing but clouds surrounding him as far as the eye could see! And there hopping amongst the clouds and enticing him to follow, was a beautiful bunny shaped angel named Judy Hopps.

“Nick…” He heard her heavenly voice echo. “Remember when we used to play cops and robbers? Think you can catch me now?” She said, batting her purple eyes at him.

Nick smiled and without a word, sat up from the ground and made chase for the giggling bunny. It was a classic scene -- a fox chasing a rabbit. Or rather a predator chasing his prey. But in this case it wasn’t for food, but to woo over the prey in question to be his mate.

Nick chased after her through the heavenly clouds he had conjured up in his mind. The two of them leaping weightlessly, practically dancing amongst the soft clouds. Judy giggled and gleefully hid behind a bush shaped cloud. Nick chuckled and peeked through the cloud with a playuful grin, “Oh, Carro---”

He was cut off, as his nose butted against another male fox’s. His heavenly daze was over and was brought crashing down into the real world.

“Nick? Nick Wilde?!” said the other fox, somehow recognizing Nick. Nick stared at him in shock and confusion. A brown cat popped his head out from the bush behind the intruding male fox. “Why look who it is Giddy! It’s good old Nick Wilde!” the taller fox chortled and grabbed Nick in a noogie, “You old rascal! Thought you could get away from us could you?”

“Remind me how I know you?” Nick groaned, struggling to break himself free from the taller red fox.

“Why, don’t you remember me?” the fox elbows his associate as Nick breaks free from his grasp, “He doesn’t remember us Giddy. It’s us! Your old pals Honest John and Gideon.”

Nick’s eyes widened as he massaged his neck, “Honest John?” Memories immediately flooded the fox’s mind. He knew the so called ‘honest’ fox since they were both kits. The other fox was a couple years older than him and he would see him around the neighborhood a few times. Honest John was a bully to Nick growing up and he would constantly tease the younger fox for wanting to grow up to be a cop like his father -- more so because Honest John was constantly getting in trouble with the law and was always quick to remind Nick of their lot in life as no good, sly foxes.

“Ha,ha,ha good to see you remember me old friend!” laughed Honest John with a slap to Nick’s back. “So tell me, is your old fox still failing at being a fox? Or did he finally decide to quit the force?”

Before Nick could answer, Judy called to him, “Nick?” Judy resurfaced from a nearby grove of trees. “Nick,” she looked beside him and immediately frowned at the sight of Honest John. She too remembered the older fox and of how he would torture poor Nick with his demeaning words.

Honest John’s eyes widened and he whistled while his feline associate adjusted his raggedy top hot, wanting to look presentable in the presence of a lady. “Do my eyes deceive me or is that little Judy Hopps all grown up?”

“Hello ‘Honest’ John,” Judy said apathetically with her ears pushed back.

“Well, well! So I see you remember me,” Honest John adjusted his cheap suit’s collar and shoved Nick back on his tail. Judy’s jaw dropped and she glared at him as he swaggered over to her, “I guess I must’ve made quite the impression on you, didn’t I?”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t imagine…” Judy practically hissed under her breath.

Honest John scanned his eyes over her and smirked flirtingly, “My, my. You really have grown haven’t you? Say,” he wrapped an arm over her small shoulders and shoved the bouquet of flowers Nick had previously given to her from her paws, “Given that it is Spring and l’amour is in the air,” Honest John made a rose pop up in his gloved paw via a sleight of hand trick. He offered it to Judy, “What do you say we take a little stroll in the park? Hmm? If you’d like I can even get Giddy here to pull us on a nice romantic carriage. Isn’t that right Giddy?”

His feline associate nodded in agreement.

Nick glared at the taller fox in jealousy. His fear were put to rest however when Judy said, “Sorry ‘Honest’ John.” She pulled away from his arm and dropped the rose he gave her, instead picking up the bouquet Nick had given her. “But Nick and I already had plans for this evening. Isn’t that right Nick?” She looked over her shoulder to him.

Nick smiled. That sly bunny, he thought. She always was quick at thinking on her feet. Nick stood back up with a confident grin. “That’s right!”

“Nick?!” Honest John said with a bad taste in his mouth. “You may have grown Judy, but your taste sure hasn’t. Honestly, a pretty farm girl like you going for a disgraced cop’s con artist son.”

Nick gulped. How did he know that he wasn’t living an honest life?! Was he spying on him and Finnick when they were picking the wildflowers from the park?

Judy crossed her arms defensively, “For your information, I’m not a farm girl anymore. I’ve come back to the city to become a cop myself.”

“What?” Nick gasped quietly underneath his breath. Honest John meanwhile just laughed.

“What? You’re joking right? A bunny cop?!” he guffawed, “I’m sorry to laugh at you my dear, but that it the most ridiculous thing I ever heard! Hahahaha!” Gideon joined him in silent laughter.

Judy scoffed offended, “It’s not funny! A bunny can be a cop! Just look at Nick’s father, many mammals didn’t believe a fox could ever be a cop yet he proved you and everybody else wrong!”

“Right! Next thing you’re going to tell me is Nick there also came back to the city to become a cop too! Hahahahaha!” He and Gideon continued to laugh boisterously.

Judy turned to Nick for an answer, here eyes hopeful. Staring deep into her caring amethyst eyes and glancing back at Honest John and his incessant laughing, Nick took a deep determined breath. “So what if I did?” he asked the fox with his chest puffed out.

“Ha!-Huh?” Honest John and Gideon seized their laughter as Judy smiled wide with happy, cupped paws toward Nick.

“I...uh…” Nick glanced at the happy bunny. He smiled, decided. “I did. I’m going to become a cop just like my old fox and before you know it, I’m gonna be Chief of Police. That is, if a certain bunny doesn’t beat me to it.” He gave Judy a wink, causing her to blush.

“You? Chief of Police? Don’t make me laugh. Judy, you can’t possibly believe a sly fox like him could ever make an honest living when he’s off picking wildflowers from the park’s flower patches.”

Nick’s ears fell back in humiliation while Judy stood defensively for him. “That’s not true!”

“Oh no?” Honest John took the bouquet from her paws and unwrapped it, “Then why do your flowers still have roots and bits of dirt on them? Not to mention if you look around the park, you’ll find some bald flower patches. Care to add some input on a possible explanation to that Wilde?”

Nick’s face flushed in embarrassment as Judy turned to face him with a disappointed look on her face. “I…” Nick was at a loss for words. How could he lose her like this? Over a stupid con that he didn’t even manage to execute. Nick glanced up at Honest John who smirked victoriously at him. The older fox’s cocky face incited a furious fire in Nick.

No...he won’t lose Judy like this. Not because of him! Nick took the disappointed bunny’s paw in his and gazed into her eyes with sincere regret. “I’m sorry Judy. Honest John is right. I did take those flowers from the park and I was planning on selling them to others.” Judy’s gaze dropped in disappointment once more. “But...but then you came along and I managed to give them a better purpose. I promise I won’t ever do something like this again. And I promise you that I will become a cop and do what I can to make right by you and this city.” Nick gave her a sincere smile and she returned his smile. Her faith in him growing again.

Judy pressed against Nick’s chest and stood on the tips of her toes to rub her head affectionately underneath at the crook of his neck. “I forgive you, you dumb fox.” She smiled up at him with a boop to his nose. Nick smiled in relief and he reached down to give Judy a soft kiss on her cheek.

Honest John’s jaw dropped, “What?! You’re going to forgive him just like that?!”

“He at least had the courage and true honesty to tell me the truth and apologize for what he did. When have you ever done anything to live up to your name? Dishonest John.”

Nick chuckled, “Good one, Carrots.”

Honest John growled in anger.

“Sorry Johnny boy, but the lovely Judy and I have a date to get back to. So see ya around, old pal.” Nick gave him a two finger salute.

Honest John huffed and turned around, “Come Giddy. Let’s get out of this dump!” The brown feline immediately rushed to the rejected fox’s side. Both of them leaving the park in utter humiliation.

Nick offered an arm to his new bunny girlfriend, “Officer Hopps.” Judy took his arm.

“Why thank you, Officer Wilde.” The two left together, arm in arm as the sun set on the horizon making way for a romantic evening in their wake.

#zootopia #fanfic #bambi #crossover #disney #raspberries challenge

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petite-neko · 6 years ago

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Chapter Characters: Corazon, Doflamingo, Law, (Baby 5, Buffalo) Pairing: (eventual) LawLu Rating: M Warnings: Vampire AU, (Mostly) canon compliant, Angst, Survivor Guilt, Blood, (Kinda) drug use/addiction, dependency, child grooming, child abuse, abusive relationship, major character death (Other warnings may be added) A/N: Well. I made one part of this story less feelsy....

Except I then proceeded to make the ending far more worse than it originally was. Ooops.

Also all the love to @oturai who is an amazing sounding board for ideas~ Thanks for your help. Helped me flesh out a few more things for this story. AND she’s beta-ing~

Also!!!!!! Just so I do not overwhelm you guys, I add in world-building facts as they become relevant. Don't feel afraid to ask. If it isn't a spoiler I'll probably answer the question :D. I just don't like just plopping a bunch of world-laws all in one text dump. Because a) you may not recall all of it if I give it to you all at once and b) it's boring af to read through that shit. XD.

.xxx. > Time/scene skip

.+++. > PoV change

(Wanna buy me a ko-fi? Link in blog description!)

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2

From what I could tell, my brother had turned his most loyal subjects. The ones who found him. The ones who convinced him to kill our father.

And, of course, turning them was not an overly concerning issue. Not in the grand scheme of things. But, he did keep it secret. In fact, he hid behind the charade he had created for us:

We had found an old ruin containing a stash of vials that had not been exposed to the air.

And so, he had used those vials to make us stronger. And, my brother had leftover vials that he had kept. Vials that he would grant to those who proved an undying loyalty to him. Vials were hard to come by, after all.

(Of course, not many knew the truth. And, even from what I could tell, only those original four had known the full truth. Any others who found out due to my brother turning them only thought him a ranked vampire, and not a full breed. Vials, to us, were hardly a barrier. We could make them at any time to prove his story true. In fact, I am very certain he has them, stored somewhere to backup his story. My brother is very meticulous, if anything.)

Perhaps that was why this cursed child came to us. Why he sought us out, of all pirates, to pledge his loyalty to. To have us assist him with his revenge. Maybe he hoped to be injected, just like my brother’s executives had been, supposedly. That – or… well, we were one of the most powerful pirate crews in the North Blue...

(Of course, that was merely because we had two purebloods, and plenty of rank 1 vampires turned by my brother himself.)

Looking at this human child, however... it was eerie. It reminded me of things that I would rather be left in the past. Memories I hid away, but never truly forgot.

This human child, the one driven by vengeance... he reminded me of my brother. All those years ago. The pureblooded vampire who killed his father for the mere action of trying to live amongst those lesser than him.

(Part of me couldn’t help but wonder. Did he use our father’s blood as our charade? Did he have Homing’s blood in vials in a fridge somewhere... to use as proof of our injector status? Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him. Doflamingo was an egotistical bastard. Of course he wouldn’t use his own blood unless he had to...)

And, frankly, I do believe my brother saw the same thing I did. That, upon looking at this human child, he saw a reflection of his past. And perhaps that was why he kept this child. Fostered him and trained him... Even though this human was doomed to die.

But - merely because of that. Because this child would die, I didn’t worry. Why should I worry about a potential threat if it was only to die in a short period of time, anyway?

.xxx.

Of course, despite that, I did encourage the children to leave. Baby 5, Buffalo, and the new one. I tried to show them rejection. I challenged their abilities. Pushed them away. All in hopes that they would leave. Leave and become respectful citizens of the world.

Of course, it never worked.

No, they were set on remaining in this faux family that my brother created.

If I was honest, I think they would have made good marines. Just... except my brother had gotten his hands on them first. He had a knack for attracting those who had bad pasts. Drawing them in with the promises of happiness and acceptance. Of protection and support. To give them just exactly what they had lacked.

He attracted the trash. Attracted them and lured them in.

And I knew. I knew all too intimately just what those promises did to a person.

Sengoku had made the very same promises to me.

There was a reason why Doflamingo picked this trash pile as his headquarters.

He wanted humans. Humans desperate for a change in their lifestyle. Humans who had been neglected and rejected by the marines and vampires.

The marines, or should I say: the government’s loyal guard dogs.

(I also knew just how literal that phrase was. At least among the higher ranks...)

Of course, the marines were full of vampires. Humans, too. Those loyal to the government and their cause. Or humans who opposed the vampire hunters known as pirates or revolutionaries. Many humans who, upon promotions, were either turned, or at the very least, were offered an injection if they wished to remain human.

My brother attracted the darkness in mankind. And he abused it.

That was one of the reasons I had returned to his side.

I knew my brother was planning something. Something to upset the very nature of our world. He wanted to disrupt the hierarchy. Making high ranked vampires, where there were few. Creating injectors when they were a rarity. He was plotting something. Something bad.

Sengoku did not approve.

Of course he didn’t. He saw just how affected I had been after witnessing my brother murder our father in cold blood.

Perhaps I was what my father wanted. A pureblood child able to empathise with the mortals. Able to understand and support them. My brother, however, had lived too long amongst the purebloods. He had been tainted, per se, by them. Learned to live like them. Act like them. And, with the negativity that had greeted us... it had only emphasised his hatred towards the humans.

My brother thought himself superior. A god.

And, it was my job to stop him. I was the only person he would trust within his family. Not to mention... well...

The more pure blood there was around, the better.

And now, now I observed. I observed as he trained and tutored this doomed child. Law, they had called him. Trafalgar Law.

The lone survivor of Flevance.

Just - why? I could not understand. Perhaps it was to show the other children that, no matter your fate, he would help you. Perhaps it was a show. An example.

Another reason for them to follow and revere him.

My brother sickened me.

Almost as much as seeing that look in Law’s eyes. The look that reminded me of those moments before my brother shot our father.

It only spurred on my motivation further.

.xxx.

Law was the oddest child of the group. Death-doomed or not.

Because, well... he was one of the weakest. Baby 5 had come from a mother who abandoned her because of the scarcity of food. Buffalo had come from origins just as sad. They had both survived on scraps. Digging through garbage cans.

And, in the process, they had apparently pricked themselves on discarded syringes.

Syringes in which remained a small amount of blood. Syringes that had changed them. Empowered them.

These children were injectors. Not by necessity or desire, but merely by accident.

But Law? Law was nothing. A plain human child only driven by vengeance. A desire to make those pay just as he had. Make them pay while he still breathed life. While he still survived. Because his time was limited and scarce. Soon, his sickness would get the better of him and he would succumb to the pain his family and country had.

Perhaps, in an alternate universe, this child would have become a great doctor who saved many a lives. But in this one, he had become a homicidal teenager. A being that used his medicinal knowledge to the detriment of others.

All because somebody had decided that his illness was contagious, when it was not.

And every time I looked at him, I was only reminded of my own mission: to stop my brother before he enacted his plan.

Both of us, it seemed, had time limits...

.xxx.

Months turned into years and I watched as the disease slowly ate away at this human.

Which was why, when I saw him getting better - stronger - I became concerned. Suspicious, even. I know my brother had mentioned that he would look out for Law. That he would try and find a cure for him while he remained here, but...

Well, to be frank, the only cure that I could think of was turning the child.

Of course, that was not remotely an option. Once a human was turned, their lifespan increased dramatically. They aged at a much slower rate.

And, with that being said, nobody turned children.

Not the purebloods, who were above the law, turned children slaves. Not the ranked, who were born as and gave birth to humans. Turning a child - it was the ultimate taboo.

To turn a child, a person at the age where development was timely and key... it could do irreparable damage to them. They also did not have the proper... morals to survive in this environment. It hindered their development. Slowed it. It extended their puberty process from a mere five years to at least fifty. And growing children hungered more than any adult would.

It was torture. Torture and...

The world would not easily be able to sustain many children vampires.

That was why the noble ranked vampires waited until their children’s eighteenth birthdays to turn them. Why anybody who was a candidate for turning had to wait until they were adults.

Of course, Law was only a child. A child who, quite simply, did not have enough time. He would die before adulthood. Thirteen, was what he had said. He wanted to kill as many people in the next three years before his time was up, which was somewhere between his thirteenth and fourteenth birthday - if he was lucky. That was what his father’s notes had said.

Pirates or not, even I knew that my brother was not above that law.

(Not only would a child vampire be high maintenance for a crew filled with vampires - if the world government ever found out... well, Sengoku didn’t need my assistance to find a reason to permanently rid the world of my brother.)

And so - how? I was baffled. Baffled at just how this human child - who should be encumbered by his progressing illness - was moving faster. Was getting stronger. Was... progressing as any other normal human should be. It just... was inconceivable. He should be dying, not thriving.

If Doflamingo had found a cure, I knew I would have found out one way or another. The children would be celebrating. It would be broadcasted... something. So... just what was it? From what I had heard, the disease never did seem to let up, even in the final stages. It only ever worsened until the inflicted could no longer move or feel....

It only made me wonder if the path I chose with the children was wrong. Should I have been bonding with them instead of pushing them away? Should I have been offering my ear and my smiles? Should I have been happy and supportive?

Perhaps, then, Law would have indulged me in just what was going on with him...

.xxx.

It had been a few weeks before I had begun figure out just what was going on.

My brother was off on one of his missions. He said it was too dangerous for the children. That he had to look after his family, after all. And he was quite insistent that I remained behind to defend the children. (Part of me worried that maybe, just maybe, he suspected me. That he thought I was the reason the marines were hot on our tails. That they always seemed to know just where we were.)

It caused a momentary panic, but I agreed. I didn’t press. I couldn’t give him for cause for concern. Perhaps he was just worried about the children in his own twisted way.

And the children? Well, they were off on their own. Training. Gossiping. Playing. Just as children should be. (Well... minus the former point.)

It was Law, however, that drew my attention. Something was off with him. It had been a few days since my brother had left and he seemed... impatient. Jittery, even. There was this way his eyes darted back and forth. The way his fingers fidgeted. The bitten lip. The way he would grasp at his arm, or face, or neck or shoulder.

The latter, if it weren’t for his newfound strength, wouldn’t have been as concerning as it was. I knew the spots he was gripping. They were the places that were afflicted with the amber lead.

There was this certain... look in his eyes. It bespoke desperation. Fear, even.

Those amber eyes met my red ones. And suddenly an entirely new emotion reached them, and I was afraid to even name it.

Then, his eyes darted down. Down to my waist. Down to where he had jammed a blade into me all those years ago.

“C-Corazon...”

He never did call me the affectionate nickname the other children had given me. But then again, Law was an unusual child, after all.

Our gazes met again.

The desperation - it had reached his voice now, and he was clinging to his arm again, but only for a moment as that very hand grasped at my coat.

“Com’ere,” he said, tugging me away. “I gotta ask you something.”

I was suspicious - but at the same time, I couldn’t say no. No, if I did I would be pushing him away, and by now I did not want to do that. I wanted him to confide in me. I wanted to know just how and why he was looking healthier.

Very well.

I let him tug me away.

However, while his... question, per se, was not exactly expected, it was not entirely unexpected either.

The little bastard had drawn his dagger and lunged at me once more.

This time, I was not oblivious. This time, I was not unguarded. And, so, I twisted and grasped tightly onto his wrist - ensuring to use my superior strength against his.

What the hell?! I thought we were past this already!

I looked at him with a guarded and discerning look in my eyes.

And his eyes met mine, with that same disturbing expression.

They met mine before he tugged his hand away and-

Wait. No. That was impossible! There was no way a dying human child could have pulled out of my grasp!

It was the surprise that allowed him to gain a blow against my palm, drawing blood.

How the hell?!

However, it was when I followed his gaze that all the dots began to connect together. The way that his eyes were focused on one thing, and one thing only: my palm. Or, more specifically, the blood pooling in it.

His regaining vitality. The strength he should not have. The look in his eyes. The desperation. Those jitters...

The way he looked at my hand. Eyes entranced by the blood there...

The fact that he asked me. The sole targeting of me...

My brother - Doflamingo - was feeding this child. Feeding Law his blood to keep him alive. Strengthening him so his body could battle the disease that was eating away at him. Giving him the ability to overcome it. To live and survive. Prolonging his life day by day...

And now Law was feeling the effects of it. Feeling that addiction that was so common with humans who ingested the blood of a pureblood. The dependence and that need. To feel that strength again. The high and adrenaline rush...

All of which was only emphasised by the fact that Doflamingo’s blood was - quite literally - the only thing keeping Law alive...

(I only remembered that hint of fear I saw within the child. Of the way his illness began to manifest once more as the blood left his system, as he weakened once more...)

I did not know I could hate my brother anymore until this very moment.

I sighed dejectedly, feeling as my heart sank. This wasn’t Law’s fault. He didn’t attack me out of malice, but out of fear. Out of desperation because his body was craving it. His mind was, because Law wasn’t a stupid child. He knew that our blood was, or would be, the only thing keeping him alive. Keeping the Amber Lead at bay. And so, he did the only thing he knew how to do: go after the only source nearby. Because if Doflamingo was a pureblood, so must be his blood brother.

And, so, I held out my hand.

I definitely had a number of words to exchange with my brother when he returned...

#lawlu #trafalgar law #monkey d. luffy #one piece #petiteneko:story #tlaw #onepiece #luffy #corazon #fanfic:clandestine

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coogpaws4cause · 4 years ago

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4 Dry Dog Food Options to Depend On

By: Ralda Robles

It's common for owners to wonder what brand brings the most nourishment for their pets. Advertisements have become increasingly difficult to trust as we enter another year filled with FDA recalls on both wet and dry dog food. In January alone, a brand called Sportmix was the cause of 110 deceased animals in the United States.

Fortunately, Cougar Paws for the Paws has compiled a list created for those with pets at home or donors who bring bags to the AniMeals on Wheels distribution center. Our organization ensures the local elderly demographic that their pet needs will be cared for when they are out of resources. With a further examination of the quality of food, we can continue fostering security among our communities.

Although AniMeals on Wheels accepts all pet food donations, we want to focus on dry dog food. This variety is easiest for transportation and most accessible for the animals at home without known allergies.

According to Dog Food Advisor, a private network featuring nutritionists and veterinarians, owners should consistently review labels before each purchase. There are high-rated brands that have faced recalls as often as others less mentioned. The following list was crafted specifically for March, based on the most recent studies conducted using veterinarian reviews.

In no particular order, we begin with Wellness Complete Health Dry Dog Food. The ingredients are easy to pronounce and include whole-foods like peas, sweet potato, oatmeal and barley. If your pet requires a balanced meal, including grains and protein, this brand will assist their digestion for smooth functioning.

Nature’s Logic is another company that has a grain-inclusive ingredient list. This kibble is known as one of the few brands that meet the nutrient standards set by The Association of American Feed Control Officials (AAFCO), by actively using live feeding trials. Compared to other brands, this one falls in the middle price range for those trying to stay on a budget.

Taste of the Wild tops our list when considering a balanced meal. It scores a 56% fat-to-protein ratio and is centered around using nutrient-dense ingredients during production. A larger portion of their meat protein comes from fresh buffalo, chicken and lamb. The price tag wins us over as it’s also one of the least costly bags of food you can pick up at the store.

Blue Buffalo Life Protection has gained popularity in recent years for a good reason. This grain-inclusive kibble is also protein-packed and proven to fuel your pet. Its fat-to-protein ratio is about 58%, which makes this choice a smart start for developing puppies or senior dogs dependent on their nutrition.

When considering nutritional needs, owners should examine the current lifestyle, age and size of the pet. To avoid difficulties associated with health, the ingredients in the kibble should be free of preservatives, colorants, synthetics and moisturizers. These are all deemed high-risk and are likely to have altering effects.

If an owner spots any of these items in their regular dog food, the best way to transition them to new kibble is gradual. A rushed process will include the risk of complicated digestive issues or other medical emergencies. It is best to increasingly replace a portion of the old food with the new until the bowl is made entirely of the new kibble.

Stay tuned for more information regarding pets and safely help the community by donating nutritious meals.

#dry dog food #kibble #love dogs #animealsonwheels #nutrition #pets #donations #veterinarian

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katedanielss · 5 years ago

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okay so like, as someone who literally works in the pet supply industry? 90% of this is completely untrue. and i’m saying this as someone who isn’t really even a fan of blue buffalo as a company or brand.

i can pretty much guarantee that, at least in terms of the original tweet, there was a small puncture in the bag that allowed moisture in, which is where the mold came from. this can happen at any point in travel from the plants to the stores to the home-- even the tiniest puncture in the packaging can allow moisture in. obviously i can’t say for sure when this happened, but i really, really doubt the mold was in the bag when it was sealed in the factory.

blue is one of the few companies who has their own manufacturing plant, at least for their dry food. (owning your own cannery takes a lot of money and a lot of work, so the majority of companies have their canned or wet food manufactured in the same plants; this is why, when there are issues with safety concerns in the plants, it’s usually not just one brand that’s recalled, but several of them.) what this means is that blue does literally all of the processing for their dry kibbles in one location. they are also incredibly careful in their processing. factories are tested for contaminants regularly.

i hear ppl say all the time that blue has had a ton of recalls, but again-- i literally work in this industry, and have for years. they have sporadic voluntary recalls, due entirely to packaging concerns: nutritional information that was misprinted on various manufacturing dates, spelling errors that weren’t caught in proofreading, etc. once they recalled a new product they’d recently released because the adhesive wasn’t holding, and the plastic seals were literally exploding off the product on the shelves.

the only time they have recalled product because of health or safety concerns was voluntary, and it was because testing found trace amounts of salmonella on a ceiling fan. it should be noted that this was in their shared cannery, and they were the only company who recalled product, even though there were three or four others companies who were canning food the same time that day. they did it voluntarily, because they did not want to allow the risk of contaminants in their food.

the concerns about toxic levels of lead contaminants? almost entirely fabricated, with literally no sources besides one single pet owner who """tested it themselves""", with a clear bias, and no actual scientific or nutrition background to base their findings on.

also, they didn’t rebrand to blue wilderness, which even a quick google search would tell you if you bothered to look beyond your own nose. the vast majority of pet food companies have multiple lines of the same brand, which focus on different dietary needs. blue buffalo has several different lines, which again, is normal practice in the industry. blue buffalo life protection is their main formula, which is what the original tweet was about. blue wilderness is their grain free high protein line. they’ve got others, too: blue basics, which is limited ingredient for dogs with sensitive stomachs or food allergies; blue freedom, which is the grain-free version of their life protection formula; and a new one, blue carnivora, a new high-protein line they based around industry-leading orijen and acana foods, which are rich in organs and cartilege, etc.

one last thing i’d like to touch on: the concerns about dangerously high levels of vitamin D? the only brand i’ve heard of recently who’s had major recalls for that was hill’s, and it spanned both their prescription foods -- recommended by probably 80% of veterinarians, so suck on that for a minute or two -- and science diet, also one of the four non-prescription brands most frequently recommended by veterinarians. hill’s is also the company behind most of the research which has led to the current grain-free dog food scare, which i’m not gonna go into too much detail about here but has been incredibly fucking frustrating and also, like, super fucking shady, since a. this is not a problem in europe, where the majority of dog foods are grain-free, and b. literally all of the science is very sloppy and funded by the three major companies who have been seeing a decline in sales since grain-free diets became more popular. but again, that’s a different story.

to the person who commented on the horror with which their vets responded to the revelation they were feeding their cats blue buffalo: vets get virtually no nutrition training, except what they’re provided by hill’s or royal canin (which are the two brands that vets recommend most, and which it should be noted they often get commission for recommending), and know almost nothing about other brands. people who work in pet supply stores literally get more nutrition training than your veterinarian does, and that nutritional training is not biased. i’m sorry your cat died while you were feeding them blue buffalo, i truly am. but it’s not because blue kills pets. it’s just because it wasn’t the right food for your cat.

and the reason pets get diarrhea while eating blue buffalo for the first time is because it’s a high-protein diet, and people never fucking transition their food when they switch to it. this will happen with virtually any food, because pets’ stomachs are very sensitive, and different recipes can upset them. you should always transition slowly from old food to new food over the course of 7-10 days, slowly decreasing the amount of the original food you were feeding and increasing the food you’ve switched to. this is basic pet nutrition knowledge, which even ppl who don’t work at a goddamn veterinarian’s office don’t always know, because they don’t get any nutritional training. adding dietary supplements like sweet potato or pumpkin during the transitional period can also make the switch easier on the belly. if your pet has a sensitive stomach, or has kidney issues, blue probably isn’t the best food for them! but that’s not because it’s a bad food. it’s just too high in protein for your pet. some pets do really well on it, and some don’t! the same can be said for literally any brand.

so again: i’m not the biggest fan of blue buffalo. of the foods we sell in my store, they’re one of my least-recommended. but it’s not because the food is bad. i just don’t personally care for it, and i don’t feed it to my cat. but seeing people tout it as like the spawn of satan is incredibly frustrating, because it's invariably based on scare mongering and misinformation, because ppl read something on the internet and fucking panic.

PLEASE BE CAREFUL FOR ANYONE WHO USES “BLUEBUFFALO” FOR THEIR DOGS!!

#i almost skipped past this but five pages later i literally couldn't stop thinking about it #so #animal welfare

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shoutoutwoofwoof · 4 years ago

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Simple Guidance For You In Blue Buffalo Dog Food Reviews | Blue Buffalo Dog Food Reviews

When your dog has abdomen issues, you appetite to do aggregate you can to accomplish abiding they’re comfortable—and a huge allotment of that is authoritative abiding they accept the appropriate foods.

Blue Buffalo Life Protection Dog Food Review Rating Recalls – Blue Buffalo Dog Food Reviews | Blue Buffalo Dog Food Reviews

But if your dog has a acute stomach, what affectionate of aliment do…

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#blue buffalo canned dog food reviews #blue buffalo dog food ingredients #blue buffalo dog food ingredients change #blue buffalo dog food ingredients from china #blue buffalo dog food reviews #blue buffalo dog food reviews 2020 #blue buffalo dog food reviews reddit #blue buffalo senior dog food reviews #blue buffalo wet dog food reviews #blue buffalo wilderness dog food reviews

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petstutorial · 5 years ago

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How Long Does Dry Dog Food Last

#pets_tuttorial #jane_brody #pet_blog #pet_training #pet_products_reviews #best_dog_products #best_cat_products

Just like humans, dogs too need to feed on fresh and nutritious food that meets all their nutritional needs and wellbeing. Feeding on fresh food helps to prevent health and poor growth issues. Dogs feed on both dry and wet food, which comes in many different recipes provided by various brands.

The feed also comes in different sizes. In this article, we focus on dry food. One of the questions people keeping pets for the first time asks is how long does dry food last. Dry foods come in many, and easily manageable types. The most popular dry food is the kibble, which contains 6 to 10 percent moisture.

Besides coming with easy storage abilities, kibble is also budget-friendly and does not require refrigeration like the wet and canned food recipes. With dry food, you do not have to worry about spillages or the food spoiling before the dog finishes the amount in the bag. Many of the dry food recipes come with easy to follow guidelines, which make it even easier to feed the dogs.

# Preview Product Rating 1

Blue Buffalo Life Protection Formula Adult Dog Food Natural Dry Dog Food for Adult Dogs Chicken... 4,541 Reviews CHECK LAST PRICE 2

Taste of the Wild High Protein Real Meat Recipe Premium Dry Dog Food with Roasted Bison and Roasted... 1,989 Reviews CHECK LAST PRICE 3

Rachael Ray Nutrish Premium Natural Dry Dog Food, Real Beef, Pea, & Brown Rice Recipe, 40 Pounds 2,902 Reviews CHECK LAST PRICE

See also:

How Many Cups In A Pound Of Dog Food

Merrick Dog Food The Reviews

Royal Canine Dog Food Review

How Long Does Dry Food Last Unopened

The simple answer to this question is about one year to eighteen months. Some dog owners find it more economical to buy dog food in large quantities. Buying in large quantities, not only saves costs, but it also saves time spent going back to the store to pick replenishments.

Whether you are buying in large quantities or much smaller ones, the first rule should be to check the expiry date given by the manufacturer. Besides the expiry date, ensure that you read all the other details concerning the ingredients to find out if there are any likely to go bad quickly.

A bag of dry dog food has a shelf life of about one year to eighteen months, and as long as it stays unopened, it should last through the date of expiration indicated by the manufacturer. Once you open the bag irrespective of how far the expiry date is, it becomes another whole story.

How Long Does Dry Food Last After Opening

One of the most frequently asked questions dog owners ask when after opening the dog food is how long does dry dog food last in the original box? Once you open a bag, a box, or a can of dry food or kibbles, you will need approximately two weeks to feed the dog with the whole amount in the bag or can before it goes bad. Even as you have two weeks to finish the open can or bag of food, some other things will affect the freshness and quality of the food.

Some of the factors include the storage tools you choose for the food storage and the temperature conditions under which you store the food. Before refilling a fresh bowl of food, ensuring that the container is clean is the first step to keep the food healthy and fresh for your dog.

How to Store Dog Food

In the two weeks that the bag, box, or can stay open, you should ensure that the storage of the food is in a cool and dry place. You should also ensure that you store the food in an airtight storage bin, or use a bag-clip to avoid spoilage. If the dry food is in a bag, or a box, consider storing the bag in a can that comes with a tight lid.

You should try as much as possible to avoid plastic containers. If you are to use plastic containers, ensure that you do not remove the food from the original bags or boxes. If it comes with a can, ensure that the lid is airtight after you scoop out what you need for feeding the dog. After opening the dog food, how you store it will also affect the length it stays fresh enough for your dog.

Do not throw away the original bag that the dog food comes in because it contains useful information such as the expiration date, the barcode, and the batch number. The data comes in handy in case you want to return the dog food, or there is a recall of the product.

Another question that people ask when it comes to food storage is can dry dog food go bad in the heat? The answer to this is yes. Exposing the food to heat or too much sunlight may lead to faster spoilage because of temperature and humidity elevation. Some of the things that dry dog food may develop due to too much heat are the risks of oil in the food turning rancid and the growth of salmonella.

The food is also likely to get other bacteria growth and contamination, which will affect the dog negatively. Anything longer than two weeks makes the oils in the food rancid. Once you open the bag of food, you expose the contents to oxidation. Once the oils turn rancid, it becomes harder for the dogs to absorb the fat content in the formula.

Rancid fats also make it harder for the body to gain from the amount of proteins and vitamins in the recipe. Rancid oils also cause some health issues, one of which is heart diseases. Some manufacturers add preservatives to the dry food to delay the oxidation process. Some use preservatives such as BHA, and BHT.

Though these preservatives may keep the food fresher for longer, they come with carcinogenic properties that may harm the dog. Other quality brands use natural preservatives from vitamins C and E that read as ascorbate or tocopherols. Though these preservatives are safer than artificial ones, they also degrade after coming into contact with oxygen, which may lead to oil oxidation.

How To Tell If a Dog Food Is Bad

Just like humans, dogs can detect bad food by just smelling it even before they put it into their mouths. A bad smell is a turn-off, and this is an indication that the diet may be harmful. A dog detects bad smell by sniffing the menu and turning away without tasting. It can also walk away after taking a few bites, which is another indication that the smell or taste is intoxicating.

Other signs to tell if the food is terrible include the appearance of mold, bugs, or moisture on the food, and a stale odor. If the bag or can of food is past expiration, then most likely the food is terrible, and you should not feed it to the dog.

Wrapping it up

Quality dog food irrespective of the stage of life does not come cheap. It is for this reason why it is necessary to ensure that after buying the food, you take care of it by ensuring that it stays dry and fresh at all times. Feeding the dog with lousy food is also another cost, as you will have to deal with health issues that follow.

The ideal storage of the food enhances the dog food lifespan and keeps the quality high. If you hold any food past the expiration date, throw it away and start all over with a new bag to maintain the excellent health of the dog. It is also hugely advisable to ensure that you buy all your dog food from reputable brands to avoid any disappointments.

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centralparkpawsblog · 5 years ago

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Blue Buffalo vs Fromm

https://www.centralparkpaws.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/519Mf59Ta9L.jpg Whether you’re looking to switch up your dog’s food or not, I think it’s always a good idea to know what’s available on the dog food market.

You never know when you might discover something that could be a healthier option for your dog.

For Maggie’s sake, I like to research the companies that have the most popular dog food blends.

In today’s market, that means Blue Buffalo and Fromm are major brands to be aware of.

Check out what I’ve learned about both brands and how they compare to each other.

You’ll learn which may be better for your dog and what stands out about each company.

Fromm’s Company History

Buying quality dog food is what’s most important for every dog owner, which is why Fromm was started five generations ago by the Nieman family.

Still run by the family today, Fromm cooks grains and meats together during the baking process for all their dog food blends[1].

This makes their dog food a true blend of kibble rather than a mix of ingredients that are thrown in together at the end.

Best Sellers

The blending baking process means that Fromm has more room to experiment with different grains and meats.

These kitchen experiments have resulted in many different kinds of blends that ended up being best sellers[2]. Some consumer favorites are:

Fromm Classic Adult Dog Food

Fromm Beef Frittata Veg Recipe Dog Food

Fromm Puppy Gold Dog Food

What may help make their food popular bestsellers is how they name them.

Instead of calling a flavor by the beef or chicken that it’s made of, Fromm names their kibble like it’s all on a doggy menu.

It makes the kibble and the brand much more appealing to consumers.

Curious how Fromm stacks up against other dog food brands? Check out our comparisons between Fromm and Acana or Orijen!

Blue Buffalo’s Company History

Blue Buffalo’s history tugs at my heartstrings.

When the founding family’s dog, Blue, got sick with cancer, they decided to be more proactive with his care than just taking him for treatment.

They investigated how a dog’s nutrition can help his health and came up with a kibble blend specifically to help Blue through his diagnosis[3].

Today, they sell their BLUE Life Protection Formula to dog owners around the world, so all dogs have the chance to receive optimal nutrition.

Best Sellers

While they have many different kinds of dog food, their BLUE Life Protection Formula is the top selling dog food in the country[4]. That’s why they’ve created different versions of the formula, so every dog can try it out.

Some of their best selling products include:

BLUE Life Protection Formula Adult Chicken and Brown Rice Recipe

BLUE Wilderness Nature’s Evolutionary Diet with Chicken

BLUE Life Protection Formula Small Breed Chicken and Brown Rice Recipe

I love that there’s a protection formula blend for dogs at all life stages, so your dog can grow up on the same kind of food and enjoy the different flavors.

You can find a more in-depth review of the Blue Buffalo brand here!

Recalls

As popular as these dog brands are, recalls are inevitable.

This is especially true when massive brands have so many different kinds of food being produced at the same time. Before you buy any dog food, always check to see what kind of recalls a company has had, and how many.

As far as recalls go, this one was relatively benign!

Fromm

Fromm has a relatively clean recent history.

In 2016, they issued a recall on their Gold canned foods[5]. The canned foods were found to have levels of minerals and vitamins that were so low, dogs wouldn’t actually benefit.

They adjusted the food as needed and continued producing it.

Blue Buffalo

Blue Buffalo has had quite a few more recalls in the past six years.

They issued recalls for chunks of aluminum metal[6], traces of salmonella[7], high levels of vitamin D[8], and even mold being present in food[9]. In 2017, toxic levels of lead were also found in their wet dog food[10].

What’s Important When Choosing a Dog Food?

Now that you know more about these two brands, here are some factors you should consider before choosing what your dog will eat.

Ingredients

Dogs with sensitivities will need their ingredients to be specific to their needs.

Owners should also look for ingredients that don’t contain fillers or chemicals, which bulk up cheaper food but aren’t actually good for your dog.

If only your dog could get a job to pay for its own food instead of lazing about!

Price

Consider your long term budget for dog food.

Figure out what’s best for you, given how often you’ll have to restock.

Also, be aware that cheaper dog foods are the ones that will have the lower quality ingredients.

Availability

You don’t want to get stuck having to buy your dog’s food at a high end boutique on the other end of town for a higher price.

Make sure that whichever food you pick is available in a place that’s easy to reach or can be delivered to your home.

Taste

Your dog may be the kind to go nuts on a full bowl of food, but they should still enjoy the taste of what they’re eating.

Read reviews on each brand to see how other dogs are reacting to the food to gauge if your dog will like it or not.

You can also see if the new brand has a flavor similar to what they’re currently eating.

Brand Reliability

Dog’s can’t change food easily, because their stomachs can get very upset if that happens too quickly.

They’ll probably stick with their food for a while, so make sure you can rely on whichever brand you buy from for quality food in the long term.

Comparison of Fromm vs Blue Buffalo

So how do these two brands compare to each other? Read on to find out some key factors about each of their products.

Ingredients

Winner: Tie

Both companies say they use only the best ingredients, but is that true? A closer look at the ingredients list will tell.

One of Fromm’s best sellers (Gold Adult Small Breed) lists duck as their first ingredient, which is great.

That means that’s what makes up most of the food. However, their second ingredient is “chicken meal,”[11] which is basically an all-natural filler that’s created by grinding up chicken flesh and skin[12].

Blue Buffalo has almost the exact same issue.

They have many recognizable ingredients[13] in their best selling blend, but their second ingredient is “chicken meal.”

Again, it’s different than the traditional by-product meal filler, but it’s surprising to see these quality brands not have at least a few more whole ingredients first.

Price/Value

Winner: Fromm

Some of Fromm’s fancier offerings are more expensive, though

Blue Buffalo, while being a major player in the quality dog food world, adds up to about $2 per pound.

That’s pretty standard, which means they’re actively trying to feed dogs healthy food at prices that many owners can afford.

Fromm is even more affordable. Their bags average $1.67 per pound.

This could be the better option for dog owners on a tighter budget, while still avoiding all the traditional chemicals and fillers in other mainstream brands.

Availability

Winner: Blue Buffalo

This wolf has stared at me from many different stores

Both brands are available online, so it’ll be easy to order a bag and have it shipped to your home no matter which brand you prefer.

If you’d rather pick up your dog’s food in person, it’ll be easier to find Blue Buffalo.

Fromm is more likely to be found at specialty pet stores, instead of the major chain brands where most dog owners shop.

Also, while you can find both Fromm and Blue Buffalo on Amazon, you can find only Blue Buffalo on Chewy.

Taste

Winner: Tie

There are many posts online that say dogs enjoy the taste of both Blue Buffalo and Fromm.

You’ll have to let your dog try them out too.

Stick with the same flavor they enjoy now and try to buy the smallest bag possible at first, in case your dog doesn’t enjoy the brand you get.

Brand Reliability

Winner: Fromm

Blue Buffalo has had many more recalls on their dog food than Fromm, which would make me trust Fromm more.

The longer a brand can go without a recall, the more comfortable I feel about buying their dog food.

Overall Winner

Winner: Fromm

After comparing these two brands, Fromm is the winner for me.

It’s more budget friendly and the company rarely has recalls.

That’s more important to me than going to a specialty pet store to purchase a bag in person, although depending on where you live, that could be the deciding factor for you.

Weigh the options that these brands present to figure out which one is better for your dog.

You’ll be able to make a decision that you know is researched, so your dog will be eating the best food possible.

Resources

https://frommfamily.com/about/our-history/

https://www.gofromm.com/dog-food-best-sellers

https://bluebuffalo.com/why-choose-blue/blue-story/

https://www.wsj.com/articles/meet-blue-founder-of-americas-top-natural-pet-food-brand-1519416803

https://www.seattletimes.com/life/pets/fromm-recalls-some-of-its-canned-dog-food/

https://www.consumeraffairs.com/news/index/2017/03/

https://www.upi.com/Top_News/US/2018/02/24/FDA-issues-2-more-pet-food-recalls-listeria-salmonella-found/5171519499067/

https://news.vin.com/vinnews.aspx?articleId=51391

https://www.seviernewsmessenger.com/2016/05/31/blue-buffalo-dry-dog-food-recall/

https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/does-blue-buffalo-contain-toxic-levels-lead/

https://frommfamily.com/products/dog/classic/dry/adult/

https://www.petmd.com/dog/nutrition/evr_pet_food_for_your_pets_sake

https://bluebuffalo.com/natural-dog-food/healthy-holistic-blue-life-protection-formula/dry-food/lpf-adult-chicken-and-brown-rice-recipe/

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junker-town · 5 years ago

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The gore, guts and horror of an NFL fumble pile

Jameela Wahlgren

Stories from the bottom of the most lawless play in sports.

Retired NFL defensive lineman Fred Smerlas recalls them as the most exhilarating yet frightening moments in pro football, a purgatory of cheap shots and atrocities where you did your time unwillingly, a place where dragons lurked.

The fumble scrums. The barbaric scramble to recover a bouncing oblong spheroid, maddening in its Boing! Boing! Boing! misdirection.

As an offensive player, covering the ball keeps a critical drive alive. As a defensive player like Smerlas, you can proudly present the prize to your own sideline, offering it up like some precious blood-ruby.

In tight games, the fumble stakes were so high, the adrenaline coursing so strongly to the brain, that the big defensive linemen, those lumbering apex predators, would hold up the ball and beat their chests, howling primal screams of accomplishment.

“As a defenseman, recovering a fumble was the difference between getting off the field or having to stay there for another 10 plays and getting your head caved in,” Smerlas said. “They were huge. You trained for them since when you were a little kid. And then, boom! A fumble happens and everything goes dark. Only the ball lights up. No matter what’s around you, you go for that thing. When those lights go out, it’s ‘Here we come!’”

Now 62, Smerlas was a five-time NFL Pro Bowl selection during a 14-year career as a nose tackle with the Buffalo Bills, San Francisco 49ers and New England Patriots. No pushover between the lines, he was then the only Greek player in the NFL, with a 6’3, 270-pound body filled out by dolmades, bougatsa and baklava.

Inside the pile, you kept your eyes closed, like a feeding shark, to guard against knifing hands that were trying to maim and blind, yank and punch scrotums, and dislocate fingers.

Yet the billy-club violence of those pileups still makes him shudder. The man-weight was so great that he could hardly breathe, and players hurt one another for the fun of it. Nothing was safe or sacred when 2,000 pounds of unscripted National Football League flesh-and-muscle pressed down on anything lying beneath it — untuned baby-grand pianos crushing hapless players fighting for both the ball and for oxygen.

Inside the pile, you kept your eyes closed, like a feeding shark, to guard against knifing hands that were trying to maim and blind, yank and punch scrotums, and dislocate fingers. The football changed hands often and ruthlessly. Late-comers dove into the jumble with their helmets first, heat-seeking missiles looking to break or dislodge anything in their way — the ball, even teeth. You couldn’t even trust your own teammates because in the heat of the scrum, it was often impossible to determine friend from foe.

Years after leaving the game in 1992, Smerlas still remembers the screams that came from a snapped femur or tibia, the animal grunts, that soulless profanity. Perhaps worst of all, he can still smell the rank breath of those miners’ sons and blue-collar pigskin heroes, many amped up on amphetamines or steroids, or both, a concoction that made them unscrupulous and even dangerous.

“You got guys grabbing your balls, punching you in the chest, gouging your eyes. In the fumble pile, everything gets whacked. You’ve got 330-pound men jumping on you. Let me tell ya, get hit by guys that size with pads and helmets, and it gets ugly fast,” Smerlas said. “In the pile, we used a different language. Part Greek. Part Italian. Part filth. ‘You fucking cocksucker, I’m gonna kill you.’ Guys would purposely go without brushing their teeth and eat garlic for five days straight. You’d be down there and pick up some rank smell and tell yourself, ‘I don’t want to know what that is.’”

So dreaded are the pileups that they come to players in their dreams long after retirement: The ball is still bouncing. Mammoth men converge. All that villainy and violence, and without a referee in sight.

The average National League Football game is comprised of 24.7 possessions, about 12 per team, and 3.2 of them (about 13 percent) end in turnovers. Out of 2.3 fumbles per game, on average at least one will be lost.

The 1938 Chicago Bears and 1978 San Francisco 49ers share the indignity of suffering the most fumbles in a season (56), and the 2011 New Orleans Saints can boast about having the fewest (6). The most fumbles to occur in a single game is 10. That slapstick ineptitude took place four times between 1943 and 1978.

Those numbers don’t tell the whole tale. While fumbles are brief events, their casualties, from lost molars to blown momentum, add up quickly. Famous college coach John Heisman, canonized with his own trophy after he died in 1936, once advised his players, “Gentlemen, it is better to have died as a small boy than to fumble this football.”

Fumbles changed the rules of the game, and many earned their own monikers: The “Holy Roller” (also known as the “Immaculate Deception”), the “Miracle at the Meadowlands”, the “Butt Fumble”, and an incident between the Broncos and Browns in 1987 that was so crushing it became known simply as “The Fumble”. In the 1960s, a generation of players earned reputations as ball-strippers, boasting nicknames that evoked the wicked street-poetry of the The Longest Yard: “Refrigerator”, “Assassin”, “Night Train”, “Diesel” and “Bus.”

Jameela Wahlgren

Today’s game is its own cacophony of violence, and fumble pileups are still no place for the meek. Players are bigger, faster and more agile than ever before. But back in the old days, before instant replay and probing multi-angle camera shots kept players in check, before the emergence of new rules that banned head slaps and ruthless high-and-low hits, the field of play was more primitive, more ungoverned, more savage, according to interviews with 18 retired players, coaches and officials.

Gary Plummer, a former linebacker for the Chargers and 49ers, believes his era of fumble piles was more ruthless than today’s. He says that modern players are as prized and protected as Triple Crown racehorses.

“They can call it a respect for your opponent, but I think that it’s because most players realize that they’re making $5 million a year, and you don’t want to mess up somebody’s career, so the intensity isn’t as heightened,” he said. “When we played, guys were fighting to put food on the table. Today, it’s all about getting an extra Ferrari. There’s a difference.”

Cliff “Crash” Harris, a cog in the Dallas Cowboys’ fabled “Doomsday Defense”, was tagged by Washington Coach George Allen as “a rolling ball of butcher knives.” Oakland quarterback Kenny Stabler, himself known as “the Snake”, described mammoth Raiders offensive lineman George Buehler as a “Coke machine with a head.”

Defensive lineman Rich Jackson, who played for the Raiders in the late 1960s, was known for a bear-paw swipe called the “halo spinner”, and once broke Green Bay Packers offensive tackle Bill Hayhoe’s helmet with a head slap. Lyle Alzado, the terrorizing Raiders defensive end, called Jackson the toughest man he’d ever met.

Jackson called himself “Tombstone”.

“When they asked me why,” he said, “I’d tell ‘em that the tombstone is the termination of life, a symbol of death, the end of the road.”

Even Tombstone considered fumble scrums to be cold-blooded places. “You’d hear guys holler and you couldn’t imagine what was going on to make a man scream like that, the dirty things taking place,” he said. “But I was down there. And I did whatever it took. We played desperate in the old days.”

This lawlessness built football legends. Some players had particular reputations for violence. They possessed the honed skills of hired hitmen, only too glad to employ them inside the scrum.

Gremlins like Dick Butkus, Ray Nitschke, Jack Lambert, Lawrence Taylor and Joe Greene, who was known for being just plain mean.

“Everybody knew that you didn’t piss off Joe Greene,” said Clinton Jones, now 74, a former running back drafted by the Minnesota Vikings in 1967. “You’d even try to compliment him. You’d say ‘Nice hit, Joe.’ Because you knew that if you didn’t treat him nice he might try to eat you, and that would make for a long afternoon. Some guys had no limits.”

Then there was Conrad Dobler, who earned lasting infamy — and a cover story in the July 25, 1977, issue of Sports Illustrated — as the dirtiest player in football.

As Los Angeles Times sports columnist Jim Murray once wrote, “Conrad didn’t play football, he waged it. You couldn’t describe what he did as play. Not unless you figure the Indians played Custer. Dobler turned a line of scrimmage into a killing ground. He went about the game with … maniacal, suicidal fervor.”

For many players, the word “Dobler” meant frothing, filthy hits.

“Guys like Conrad Dobler would bite your eyeballs out,” Smerlas said. “Conrad would eat a child, for God sakes. He had no conscience. He’d tape his hands and rub them in salt and go after your eyes. He was like a crab. Everything on him was going to hurt you. If the ball was on the ground, he would punch you in the ribs or in the throat. You could beat Conrad to death, he wouldn’t care.”

Yet even the formidable Dobler quakes at memories of the scrum. “All that stuff they said I did at the bottom of the pile was bullshit; I avoided piles,” he said. “They were dangerous places. You could get hurt. Being there on the ground with your legs spread out and guys piling on, you could break something. One of the most dangerous places was standing around a pile. You’d get hit by some guy using his helmet as a battering ram. It was a good way to get your ass knocked off. All I wanted to do was get out of that pile and check my bones to see if anything was broken.”

Dobler insists he didn’t need the cover of a fumble scrum to inflict his damage. “If I hurt players, I did it out in the open. I’d bring up my hands and hit ‘em in the face mask. I’d catch ‘em in the solar plexus with my fist. That stopped ‘em real good. It was all legal. The refs didn’t like my leg whip, but it was sufficient to knock a guy off his feet.”

Fumble piles were the perfect cover for criminality. Players who moments earlier had been felled by brutal hits sought out scrums to exact revenge, knowing they could hide from cameras and the discerning eyes of opposing sidelines and referees.

“When we played, there was no place to hide between the white lines,” Dobler said. “If I got my hands on a defense guy in the pile, I beat the shit out of him. You got no mercy. I made a guy cry once.”

An opponent once tried to bite off Dobler’s finger in the scrum. “But I always wrapped my hands before games. They were caked in dirt and mud and sweat. I might have even picked my nose with those fingers. So I laughed at those guys.

“Myself, I never bit anyone. I liked my teeth too much. And I still have beautiful teeth.”

Though steeped in venom and hostility, the fumble scrum is also a place where real technique, finesse, sophistication — perhaps even something like artistry — could shine. Think of Mikhail Baryshnikov with a helmet and shoulder pads.

Some players entered the fumble scrum more as pacifists than combatants. The game was built as much on savvy and skill as testosterone and eye-gouging, they reasoned. Sure, smash-mouth worked, but so did sleight of hand.

“Players talked trash in the pile, but I didn’t get into it. You throw down all that hate and you get consumed by it,“ said Riki Ellison, who played linebacker for the San Francisco 49ers and Los Angeles Raiders between 1983 and 1992. “Every locker room had the big bad-ass defensive linemen who were on the top of the food chain and set the mood. But some guys played a game of psychology in the pile. Matt Millen always talked about stuff that had nothing to do with football, like the weather, how his parents were doing or what was going on in his life. It was pure comedy. It would throw off a guy’s aggression.”

Jameela Wahlgren

Few players were as crafty as Cliff Harris.

“As a free safety, I caused a lot of fumbles, many more than I recovered,” recalled Harris, who played in five Super Bowls and was elected to six consecutive Pro Bowls. “I had a technique. It wasn’t any big secret. I’d come up from behind a player and punch the ball out with my fist. We called it stripping.”

By the 1960s, teams were practicing how to snatch loose footballs. “You were trained to fall on a fumble in a certain way,” Harris added. “You weren’t supposed to dive and land on the ball, but hit the ground next to it and curl up around it. If you tried to pick it up and run with it, there was better chance you’d really get injured.”

Players worried the fumble scrum might result in season-ending injuries. Football could fulfill dreams of glory, then tear everything away when one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse rolled over your leg.

“When I got to the NFL in 1976, I had to develop a receptivity to pain and learn how to deal with brutal, nasty, mean people,” said linebacker Reggie Williams, who played 14 seasons for the Cincinnati Bengals. “In the fumble piles, you’d expect someone to go for your gonads. Before instant replay, I felt a bunch of hands going for my nuts, so I’d get in the fetal position and clamp my buttocks together. One guy put his finger inside my nose and pulled, trying to rip the skin. Players would scratch your eyes, give you infections. It was all part of the nastiness of that pile. The dirtiest players were usually the ones on steroids. A steroid-induced athlete is a different kind of animal.”

Neck-twisting was considered fair game. “It wasn’t unusual for some guys to grab a player’s face mask and just twist, you know, literally wring his neck,” said Lee Roy Jordan, who played weakside linebacker for the Dallas Cowboys in the 1960s.

Thirty years later, necks and other vulnerable body parts are still being wrung in the pile. Today’s players don’t carry brass knuckles like Butkus or Nitschke, but they have ways of going for the jugular. “You put your hands up by somebody’s neck and, especially with an elbow, they stop moving,” said Stephen White, a former defensive end who played between 1996 and 2002 for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers and New York Jets (and now contributes to SB Nation). “You hit the throat, the ribs or the midsection, somewhere that makes the guy cough up that ball.”

Smerlas likens the toughest players to prison enforcers.

“We pounded the shit out of people. A lot of guys should have been put in cages after the game. We brought the adrenaline to every game,” he said. “I popped a finger out a few times and pulled it back myself. Once I hit the side of some guy’s helmet and ripped the side of my hand off, pinky to wrist. I ran off the field with all this white stuff oozing out, and they sewed it up right there without any pain killers. That kind of aggression.”

Kevin Gogan, a veteran offensive linemen who retired in 2000, earned the nickname “Big Nasty” for his legal hits as much as his reputation for dirty plays. Calling scrum violence “learned behavior,” he offered some pointers on exerting maximum nastiness.

“The best place to hit was right in the soft tissue. I’ve poked my fingers in people’s eyes,” Gogan said. “It’s not a good feeling, oh no. I remember one game where I kneed this guy in the nuts, hurt him real bad. He got up before me and stomped on what he thought was my leg, with those fierce inch-long cleats they used for grass fields. But he hit my teammate instead of me.”

Even referees have developed techniques to survive the fumble pile. After all, they venture between the lines without the same protective equipment or blind aggression as players. In a scrum, they feel more like the Christians than the lions.

Jameela Wahlgren

Now 90, Jim Tunney was nicknamed the “Dean of NFL Referees,” and wore No. 32 on his black-and-white uniform. He was particularly wary of fumbles, which he called “the most exciting play in football.”

“As an official, you’re foolish to dive into those scrums. I told younger refs, ‘Take your time. Don’t worry about it. Let things settle down,’” Tunney said. “Sorting through those players was like trying to take a steak from a dog’s mouth. I’d see referees dig into that pile and I’d tell them, ‘What are you worried about? Trying to find the right guy with the ball? C’mon.”

Once Tunney sensed that the worst brutality was over, he pounced.

“That ball comes loose and 22 guys come looking for it all at once. Only one or two are going to get to it. The rest are piling on, trying to hurt each other,” he said. “As an official, you peel those guys off. You say ‘It’s over, it’s over. Get off of there.’ And most times they would. But until you got down to the bottom of the pile, it was Darwin’s survival of the fittest. I would tell players, ‘If you haven’t read Charles Darwin, you better go back and read him.’”

Most players simply have to come to terms with the idea that sacrificing their bodies is for the good of the team. Because inside the pile, some drooling 380-pound lummox with pads and an attitude could hurt you even when he wasn’t trying. Like a hippo rolling on the riverbed.

“The weight of the pile was overwhelming and caused physical pain. I broke my arm underneath one pile against the Pittsburgh Steelers. Just the weight of all those bodies,” Ellison said. “A guy was on top of me and my arm was in an awkward position. You can’t do anything about it. You just gotta suck it up and wait the 10 seconds for the bodies to unpile.”

Geoff Schwartz, an offensive guard who played for five teams and retired in 2016 (and now contributes to SB Nation), said that fumbles took a particularly hard toll on the largest players. He stands 6’6 and played at a whopping 340 pounds.

“Fighting for the ball in those piles was the most exhausted I’d ever been on the football field over a 30-second period,” he said. “Trying to keep control of the ball, when guys would do anything to punch it out. It just wore me out.”

Sometimes, fumbles would punish players for their instincts. When a football popped loose into the open field, big defensive linemen got hurt doing something they later reconsidered as plain foolhardy: picking up a loose fumble and trying to run for a touchdown.

“Defensive linemen never got any glory so when we could pick up a fumble, we tried to score,” recalled Bob Lilly, a Dallas Cowboys defensive tackle in the 1960s. “One time I had Larry Cole on my left, and Cliff Harris, another one of my teammates, wants the ball too. So he comes running up and hit me in the back and tore my hamstring in two. I thought two things while I was falling: I wonder who that son of a bitch was who hit me in the back, and that I should have lateraled to Larry Cole.”

“Tombstone” didn’t fare much better in a similar situation. “I was playing Cincinnati one day and there was a fumble on the 5-yard line. The rest is kind of blurry. But it was the worst experience I ever had,” he said. “I picked it up, and I was thinking TD. I took the first step and it suddenly felt like the entire stadium was on me. They had me by the arms and the legs and the neck, pulling and punching and doing everything they could to get that football. And I told myself right there, ‘Man, don’t you ever do that again.’”

If a retired NFL player’s long-past career can seem like a fading dream, then the fumbles are the nightmares, those nagging memory loops, full of anxiety and feelings of impotence, that wake you up in a sweat at 3 a.m. Suddenly, you’re drowning in the bathtub, or caught stark naked on a public bus, mired in quicksand while trying to outrun a serial killer.

Gary Plummer once picked up an opponent by the eye sockets in retaliation for being kicked in the groin.

Either you come to terms with the chaos and the powerlessness, maybe even embrace it, or you don’t. You shudder, block it out of your mind. Or get therapy.

Gary Plummer once picked up an opponent by the eye sockets in retaliation for being kicked in the groin. How’s that for a nightmare? His mantra: hit or be hit. “If you weren’t fearless on the football field, you wouldn’t have a very long career,” he said.

Many players avoided people like Plummer. After all, why mess with Bigfoot when you know the bloody outcome? “I wasn’t in many of those piles,” said Harris. “I chose not to be until I had to be.”

Wait, even the guy known as the “rolling ball of butcher knives” avoided the pile? “I was a tough player, but I was also a smart player,” Harris said. “What kept me healthy was my thinking, not my instincts. And my instinct was to stay away from those scrums.”

Though fumbles are still much-ballyhooed by fans, NFL officials maintain a love-hate relationship with them. In 2018, the league changed one rule, no longer calling a loose ball a fumble if the player who lost the ball regains control “immediately”.

Some have called for a possession arrow, like the one used in basketball, to curtail the violence and the guessing game of the fumble scrum. Even coaches have begun asking their players to hold back.

Jameela Wahlgren

Players who once sought out the fumble pile now can only shake their heads. “It’s amazing to look back on it,” said Plummer. “I was a broadcaster for the 49ers for 13 years and I’d go to practices and training camps and I’d watch the drills and hits and I started thinking, “My God, I used to do this. How crazy that was. It’s like you have this ’S’ on your chest and a cape on your back when you’re playing. Fear never once entered into the equation.”

Long-retired NFL veterans describe their fumble psychosis as if they’re lying prone on the analyst’s couch. “Our era featured the sons of coal miners and men who worked in the steel mills. For them, football was bloodsport,” Clinton Jones said. “And when players left the game, they had post-traumatic stress. They had nightmares of the piles and the intensity of the sport, one campaign after another. They remembered all the vicious hits. Deacon Jones was a good friend of mine, and he’d always say, ‘Somebody slams the door and I jump.’”

Deep down in that fumble-pile flashback, desperate men will always be fighting for the football, brutality still being waged. The ball is right there for the taking. The only question that remains: How badly do you want it?

Forever lurking in the deep are delinquents like Lambert, Nitschke, and Butkus. “They were fierce. They loved the fumble scrum,” said Tunney. “That’s all a linebacker cares about. He doesn’t care if he’s having dinner that night. He just wants that ball. If you’re a running back and you fumble, you might make one attempt at the ball, but you wouldn’t be caught dead on the bottom of that pile. You leave that to the big guys.”

By the time he retired in 1973, Butkus had hard-coded trepidation into a generation of NFL veterans, not only for his felonious tackles, but for what he did in the pile, and everywhere else. He broke bones, crushed egos and prompted stretchers to be brought onto the field. NFL Hall of Fame defensive end Deacon Jones said Butkus, “was a well-conditioned animal,” and that “every time he hit you, he tried to put you in the cemetery, not the hospital.”

After both retired, Tunney asked Butkus about his zest for violence. “I

always called him Richard. I asked him, ‘Richard, did you ever intentionally try to hurt somebody?’

“He said, ‘Nah, not unless it was in a game or something.’”

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cowgirlontheloose · 6 years ago

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The Shaman and the Swift Fox

Some time in the early 1990s, I had a dream. A female form appeared to me. Maybe a goddess, shaman or fairy creature? She didn’t explain herself. She told me I had to help wildlife. I can’t recall her exact words. But I understood I had to take some sort of action. Then she faded gently from the scene just like in the story books. Poof!

The morning of my dream, I nibbled my toast and thought hard. Mug of tea in hand, I went to my computer and wrote three similar emails: one to the Swift Fox recovery team in Alberta and Saskatchewan; one to Burrowing Owl recovery on the prairies, and one to threatened Black-tailed Prairie Dogs in Saskatchewan’s Grassland National Park. I volunteered my services for three months. “Use me however you want,” I wrote. “I’ll scrub cages, count poop, run errands, type, do paperwork or answer phones.” I provided a bio, some glowing references and hit send.

I was free-lancing in those days — writing for various magazines and organizations. I worked from home, where I could glance from my computer screen out the window to my wild, overgrown 80 acres. Now and then, creatures would plod, scurry, bound or fly by: turtles, fox, deer, raccoons, skunks, wild turkeys, blue heron and a host of tinier beings that I couldn’t see. But I knew they were there.

Most of my research and writing concerned endangered species. I adored learning about their biology; how they all play a role in keeping our world turning. It thrilled me to discover that the lives of Barn Owls, Kangaroo Rats or Flying Squirrels actually had an impact on my life and the planet. Not directly maybe. But through a chain of influences, weather systems, tiny and significant world events — each one influencing something else and something else and something else — I finally understood how dependent we all are on forces we are mostly clueless about.

One example (and there are millions more) let’s take sea otters, sea urchins and kelp forests to see how we are all connected. By the way, there are no exceptions to this rule. None.

Kelp forests provide homes for a vast number of creatures. Just like any land forest, kelp removes C02 through photosynthesis and turns it into energy it needs to flourish. Along come hungry sea urchins — small, spiky critters that eat kelp. Generally, there are plenty of sea otters around to eat some of the urchins so that everything is balanced tickity-boo and everyone has enough to eat. So far, so good, including all the teeming smaller species also living in the watery forest. But humans have been working overtime dumping toxins and garbage into the sea. Exacerbate this horror with oil spills, over fishing, coastal development and soon otters vanish, leaving the hardier urchins to multiply and literally eat the kelp forest to death along with everyone else living within.

This particular chain reaction doesn’t stop there of course. It goes on from one thing to another, interacting with other chain reactions all over the planet. Eventually, you and I, our kids and grandkids are affected. It’s a glacial process, so most people don’t notice until it’s far too late, until we wake up to something like the horrors of climate change.

And now, back to my fateful dream and the send button.

A few months later, I found myself in Edmonton at the office of Dr. Lu Carbyn, a Canadian Wildlife Service scientist and chairman of the Swift Fox (Vulpes velox) Recovery Team. The task he set me was to locate myself somewhere near Medicine Hat, Alberta. There I would give talks to schools and community groups about this little fox, why it’s recovery was vital, and how we could all help by not shooting, trapping, poisoning, paving over or digging up their grasslands home.

I was also expected to have informal visits with some of the major ranch owners. It was these large spreads on which the fox depended after all. And it’s a well known fact in conservation efforts that some Canadian land owners — and no doubt, the world over — do not ever want it known that a vulnerable species was spotted on their property because it could lead to restrictions for the rancher. Their unofficial motto if this should happen is “shoot, shovel and shut up.” I’m not suggesting that any of our prairie ranchers fall into this category. I’m just reporting what I heard again and again in the field.

All this talking in front of groups was a scary stretch for a shy sort. And the thought of me — clueless female Easterner — presuming to educate Western ranchers who possessed more know-how and grass-roots intelligence than I could blink at, made me want to turn tail.

But a deal was a deal.

Lu rounded up a vehicle for me, a cranky, rusting station wagon with balding tires which frankly, was not reliable (I wasn’t about to complain, believe me), and off I went to Elkwater, pop. 80-ish. Here I boarded with the gung-ho and endlessly inventive Lyall family: Noreen, Don, Richard, 6, and Alec, 4. (Our adventures together will have to wait for another time, alas.) Their home was a few miles from Elkwater on the rolling prairie I love so much. Highway 41 stretched by our door, north to the Trans-Canada and south to Wildhorse, Montana, one of the loneliest border crossings I have seen.

Before settling in Elkwater, howerver, Lu and I trucked south-east to Val Marie, Saskatchewan (800 km) with several Vulpes velox in cages. Some had been wild trapped in the U.S., and others raised in captivity at the Cochrane Ecological Institute in Alberta. We would be releasing them in Grasslands National Park in hopes of establishing a sustainable presence there.

Forget Banff, Jasper and the Rocky Mountains. Grasslands is possibly Canada’s most gorgeous natural treasure. Established in 1981, this 907 sq. kms. protects one of our country’s remaining un-meddled-with, mixed-grass/short-grass prairie. The park is home to several species in various states of peril: Bison, Burrowing Owls, Black Footed Ferrets, Greater Short-horned Lizards and Black-tailed Prairie Dogs.

The night before the release, Lu and I camped in this magical place bathed by the misty light of stars and full moon. As his tent was hidden over the brow of a hill and I was located below on a flat expanse, I seemed to have the entire planet to myself. I woke several times and crawled out to pinch myself in disbelief. Coyotes wailed and shooting stars fell. And beneath my bare feet the prairie sighed.

Next day’s release was, in some ways, anti-climactic. So many years and resources, so much funding, will and people power, had brought us to this moment, yet it was just the start of an unfolding mystery. Would this little fox survive long enough to become an integrated part of Canada’s living tapestry again?

We opened the eight cages and stood well back. Some bolted, some crept from captivity to the glory of big sky and vast grasslands. My eyes shimmered. Those sleek, camouflaged coats blended flawlessly into the prairie hues. I blinked. Like wraiths they melted away one by one.

Once settled in Elkwater, I set up appointments with every school and group I could find. I’ve long forgotten how many there were, or how far afield I roamed. I fondly remember a lively one-room school in Buffalo, Alberta, somewhere between Bindloss and Jenner. Although it was in the middle of nowhere (at least to this Easterner) and clearly a fading hamlet, the school was full of life and energy. Online now, I see that Buffalo is listed as a ghost town, although the minuscule post office and store were operating as of 2015. No sign of the school.

Oh so many schools! The elementary kids had lots of question and comments, always a forest of hands waving at me. The high school crowd was generally stoney-faced — too cool to reveal themselves in any way. I left those presentations feeling like a boring idiot, but hey — I tried. The most interactive and fun schools were Hutterite colonies — Spring Creek, Cypress, Box Elder, Elkwater. Here I was warmly included and herded on chatty tours of the colony by pink-cheeked, giggling youngsters. Once, my son Adam, was visiting me on his way back to University in New Zealand, and came with me (I probably forced him) to one of these colonies. I know he answered a barrage of questions about what New Zealand was like. I hope he remembers that time. This is the kid whose only apparent childhood memory is of me chasing him upstairs whacking at his legs with a wooden spoon.

I covered thousands of lonely miles. One night on my way to Consul, Sask. (1.5 hours drive — was I nuts?) a full moon poured a fantastical light onto the prairie. I pulled over, got out and lay down in the middle of straight-and-flat-as-an-arrow Highway 13. I don’t know why I did it, but the prairie sang to me in four-part harmony that night.

I surely recall heading south an hour one cold night to Manyberries. Up and over the high bench of the Cypress Hills I drove, straining my eyes for elk and moose. Then down to the long flat stretch to Montana.

I passed the sign that said something like Warning — No Gas Or Services For The Next 100 Kms. and tried not to add a sub-text which urged Better Say Your Prayers, Sister.

The road was bare and I hummed happily. Suddenly snow — an instant, blinding white-out and the road vanished. I crept to a standstill. Yes, I knew possibly only a few kilometres from me, lights glowed from a warm ranch house at the end of a long laneway. But I had no hope of finding that. I waited, my heart rattling in my throat.

Fifteen minutes later, headlights glowed behind me and a transport truck swirled past. How could he possibly see? But now I had quickly fading tracks to follow, which I did. There was no way I was going to risk turning around and hitting the ditch. Ten minutes later, the white-out stopped dead. Bare highway appeared and the transport’s light drew away from me. On I went to Manyberries, trailing clouds of dumb luck and good fortune.

Did I make any difference to the Swift Fox effort? Who knows. My time volunteering was precious beyond measure and enriched my life and understanding of how the world turns. And what of Vulpes velox (also called the Kit Fox) today in 2018? Once common from the Canadian prairies south to Texas, No thanks to humans, it was extirpated from Canada in 1930. Between 1983 and 1997, conservationists introduced more than 900 of these house cat-sized animals to the Canadian grasslands. It is estimated that 600 are living and reproducing in our country today.

The Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada (COSEWIC) designated the Swift Fox as extirpated in 1978. It was uplisted to Endangered in 1998, and since 2009 was further uplisted to Threatened.

Wildlife Preservation Canada says the Swift Fox recovery is considered “…one of the most successful endangered species translocation programmes in the world.

#wildlfe #biodiversity #writing #biology #animals #adventure #dream #preservation #endangered species #foxes

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