#canine hoopers

[pawsitivevibe]

Oh my puppy is going to be a Hoopers star.

I think this is the most obstacles Arthur's ever done in a row. Look at my boy go!! We've gotten over the phase of him running away and refusing to engage as soon as the leash came off. We are very engaged!! He actually did an even better, faster run with less luring from me after, but of course I wasn't recording it.

[aquestionablemutt]

Hooping fantastic!

[labradork]

Hey friends!

Just discovered how big dogblr is and I'm jumping right in. (My main is bumble--bean.)

I'm currently assisting with classes with the goal of training dogs part-time. My focus is on R+/LIMA training.

I also love trying new things with my black Lab, Milo. Together we've done scent work, mantrailing, Canine Hoopers and trick training (earned Expert Trick Dog with DMWYD 🥳). We also have an intro to Ring Sport class coming up!

[amyreadsandstresses]

So, I saw the posts by @inevitably-johnlocked and @7-percent, so of course I had to go ahead and do it myself. All fics will be focused on BBC's Sherlock.

I will be going from top to bottom, left to right, in columns. I also tried to keep just one fic per question, hard as it may be.

Onto the Recs!

Column 1

A fic you love without knowing the source material

Switching Tracks by detafo

18k, 6/6, Sliding Doors (1998), Viclock, Johnlock, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Molly Hooper, Jim Moriarty, Mary Morstan.

What started out as a way to keep my mind busy, soon became this... travesty? A BBC Sherlock/Sliding Doors crossover.

I have never even heard of this film and definitely not watched it. However, the tags rather intrigued me and I jumped into this wonderful fic. I completely recommend it, it’s delightful.

A cathartic fic

The Men Who Talked Between the Words by Odamaki

463k, 30/30, Johnlock, Mystrade, Parentlock, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Romance, Recovery, Family, Closure.

John expected to be a father some day; he expected to have the house, and the wife and the nice suburban job. Sherlock never expected to have children, in part because he never expected to make it past 30. As it turns out, you don't get a choice. Crammed into Baker Street with a baby, John struggles with single-parenthood and his own fears, while Sherlock treads the fine line between doing too little and saying too much.

Probably one of the best fics I’ve ever read, this one is a brilliant continuation and even ending of the show we all know and love. I was absolutely in love with the characterizations, the character arcs and the way all of these people came into sharing a life, however unlikely. As far as I am concerned, this fic is canon.

A fic you wish could be a movie

Musgrave Blaze by 7PercentSolution

Part 6 of a series, 64k, 28k, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Childhood Trauma, Country House, Murder Mysetry, ACD Canon Characters, Equestrian.

Mixing ACD canon, Sherlock and John are drawn to the rolling hills of Gloucestershire to investigate the mysterious disappearance of a horse, the death of its trainer, and the theft of a three-day eventing trophy from Musgrave Hall. Multi-chapter case fic that brings back some old memories for both men.

A delightful fic that brings with it so many beautiful visuals. From horses to the house and a uniformed John Watson. Oh, and the dogs, of course the dogs. Brilliant fic in a brilliant series. 10/10

A fic that made you gasp out loud

The Deafening Sound of Silence by Ranowa

76k, 12/12, Johnlock, Sign Language, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Implied/Referenced Torture, Recovery, Psychological trauma, Mute Sherlock, Caretaker John, Paternal Greg Lestrade.

"Sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you?"

Oh dear Gods, this fic. Wonderful, healing, uffff. There were more than one moment that made me gasp out loud. Somebody please read it and come gush with me.

A fic that gave you butterflies

To a Friend Who Sent Me Roses by AlgySwinburne

16k, 6/6, Johnlock, Parentlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss.

Five times Sherlock is mistaken for John’s partner and Rosie’s father, and one time it isn’t a mistake.

Will I ever get over this fic? No, I will not. Read it, read it, read it. This piece is so delightful and soft and loving.

Column 2

A fic with a premise that shouldn’t work but does

Cat Among The Pigeons by BeautifulFiction

10 works, 56k, Johnlock, Catlock, Hurt/Comfort.

As days became months, John found himself overlooking the cat-like characteristics or the occasional moments of Felisian behaviour. He forgot about Sherlock's sharper-than-usual canines and the way he could see in the dark. So what if he lived with a rare genetic variant of Homo sapiens, rather than a bog-standard example of the general population?

It was just Sherlock, unique in every respect and captivating for his mind as much as his physical appearance.

Sherlock is part cat, John is very human, and everything else is the same.

A fic you’d print and put on your bookshelf

The Ground Beneath Your Feet by Chryse

68k, 15/15, Johnlock, Mycroft Holmes, Implied/Referenced Torture, PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.

Such a good fic, I would love to bind it, everything about it is brilliant.

A fic that led you to making friends with the author

None yet, I’m afraid

A fic you found at the right time

Not a Crime by Yitzock

Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Greg Lestrade, Genderfluid Sherlock, Coming Out, Acceptance.

Sherlock is genderfluid. They keep it a secret for a while, even though it's hard. After playing with their appearance for a while, they decide one day to come out to John before they get a new case.

A fic I read at a time when I was dealing with gender and identity. It was, and continues to be, a great read.

A fic that embodies something you value

Like Father, Like Son by BigBlkDog

Sherlock Holmes & Greg Lestrade, Teen Sherlock, Paternal Greg Lestrade, Drug Addiction, Adoption, Mycroft Holmes, Family Feels.

AU; A 15-year-old Sherlock is outcast by his parents once his drug use has come to a final blow-up. After fleeing to London, fate (murder) intervenes, and Sherlock becomes a part of the life of one, Sergeant Greg Lestrade. Together the two learn that sometimes family isn't just blood. TeenLock. If PapaLestrade is your thing - this is your story.

There are no words to explain how much I love this fic. Its focus on what family really is and how we can choose our own is so strong. Someone is always going to want us, however unexpected.

Column 3

A fic you’ve reread several times

Nature & Nurture by earlgreytea68

Start of a series, 203k, 57/57, Johnlock, Parentlock, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Molly Hooper, Harry Watson.

The British Government accidentally clones Sherlock Holmes. Which brings a baby to 221B Baker Street.

Such a brilliant fic that has been re-read by me an unhealthy amount of times

A fic you associate with a song

The James Holmes Chronicles by prettyvk

Series, 7 works, 338k, Johnlock, Parentlock, Adoption, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Family.

It starts with five words.

“Is my father really dead?”

Or maybe, that’s how it ends.

I didn’t pick just one part of the series because I actually relate the whole thing to this song: I'll Stay. It’s a wonderful series about a family coming together to heal from their past in the most unexpected of ways.

A fic that you would read a fic of

Stop Crying Your Heart Out by AnonyMouseHatesCaptcha

2 works, 52k, R/NC, Abusive Relationship, Jim Moriarty/Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Stockholm Syndrome.

Moriarty's offer was simple - Sherlock was to go through with his plan and disappear. In return, his friends would stay safe. And then, Sherlock would come to him.

Wow, this fic. Since it is unfinished (though leaves it at an alright point), and so so so good. I would love to have fanfiction of it. I just love my dark Sheriarty so much.

A favourite AU

The House Of The Rising Sun by Koscheyyy

60k, 15/15, Johnlock, Irene Adler, Prostitution, Blood and Gore, Case fic, Greg Lestrade, Janine, Mrs. Hudson.

Do you like reading stories of societal collapse? Where John Watson is an empty shell of a man seeking comfort and Sherlock is an obnoxious sex worker? Where they find each other and end up following the trail of grisly murders within the brothel that Sherlock works? Well I think you might enjoy this…

This was a very difficult choice, since I have several AU’s I just love. But THIS ONE, it’s amazing. Dark and sexy, scary but funny. Excellent.

Column 4

A fic you still remember many years later

Soul By Soul And Silently by Pargoletta

Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Sarah Sawyer, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Implied Violence, Case fic, Politics, R/NC.

Mycroft takes advantage of his position to bring Sherlock and John behind the scenes on a potential political deal. But what was supposed to be a single gala event quickly becomes a puzzle that Sherlock, John, and Sarah must unravel to expose the secrets of powerful men.

One of my first Sherlock fics ever read, and a long time favourite, this one is very interesting. A case fic that happens to contain an awesome Sarah Sawyer. Watch out for trigger warnings.

A fic that inspires you

Living Conditions by TheWhiteLilly

61k, 10/10, Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty, Johnlock, R/NC elements, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Stockholm’s Syndrome, Patient John, Healing, Plot Twists, Angst with a Happy Ending.

After Reichenbach, Sherlock disappears completely. Even Mycroft has given up hope of finding him alive... but Moriarty had planned for the events on the rooftop and has been taking full advantage of his new live in one.

Sherlock isn't traumatised. He's not, no matter what John thinks, or at least he won't be once he fixes the damage to his mind palace enough to deal with Moriarty's legacy. Because he's always had something that Moriarty underestimated - but it might not be quite what Sherlock thinks it is.

Probably seems like an odd choice, but this is one of my favourite fics ever and has inspired much daydreaming and planning for future fics as well as changed my understanding of what the dynamic between Moriarty and Sherlock could be.

A fic you’ve gushed about irl

En Pointe by pfeifferwrites

Johnlock, Greg Lestrade, Original Female Characters, Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending.

The thought of John Watson, his John Watson finding out about his love of ballet was terrifying. John was a soldier. Robust, muscular, almost rippling with strength, and he could only imagine what said soldier would do if he found out. Of course, in the back of his mind, he had a dream once of his rugby-playing soldier doctor meeting him after show, teasing him lovingly about the leotard and tights, wiping away the sweaty stage make up that fell down his face as he leaned in for a kiss... But it was wrong. John wasn't gay, Sherlock wasn't a ballet dancer, and love was a horrible thing to think about after a murder.

Read it, it will MAKE YOU gush to whoever will listen.

A fic that made you laugh out loud

TLS and the Sloane Ranger by sgam76

Part of a series, 13k, 5/5, Anthea and Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Young Everyone, MI6, Spies in training, Mild Angst, Humor, Spymaster Mycroft.

Anthea Holder, smart as a whip and well aware of it, meets Mycroft Holmes' little brother, the infamous Lock Holmes (who has a number of other, less-flattering names). It doesn't go quite as she expects.

Oh, yes, and there's a goat.

Everything by this author is just brilliant, and this particular one shot is just such a fun read. I love it.

A fic you stayed up late to finish reading

A Conditional Pardon by London Lioness

49k, 30/30, Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, John Watson, Mary Morstan, Greg Lestrade, Molly Hooper, Moriarty, Mental Health Issues, PTSD Sherlock, Drug Use, Therapy.

Sherlock stared nervously at the envelope in his brother's hand. "Is that my pardon?"

Mycroft pursed his lips. "It's more the procedure you have to go through to earn your pardon. There are conditions."

"And I'm not going to like them," the younger brother deduced. He paled suddenly. "Not the mission?"

"No," Mycroft pronounced firmly. "No mission, no gaol."

"Well, so far I love it," Sherlock snarked. "What's the catch?"

The elder Holmes visibly braced himself. "Psychiatric treatment."

Of course, in between therapy sessions, Sherlock will have to quite literally save the world.

Oh dear, this fic. Such an interesting read, with lots of excitement and angst. Everything I love to read, really. 10/10.

Column 5

A comfort fic

Seeds by thesardine

5k, 1/1, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Gardening, Black Moods

In a fit of boredom Sherlock plants some seeds, may or may not eat one cracker, and definitely waxes dramatic on the sofa for a while.

A beautiful short fic about Sherlock finding a way to cope with the burdens of his mind and John being supportive.

A fic that brought you on board a new ship

Following the (Silver) Fox by Jobooksandcoffee

54k, 15/15, Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, Sally Donovan, Mary Morstan, Molly Hooper, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending.

After two lonely and painful years away eliminating the threads of Moriarty’s web, Sherlock comes home to find John living with Mary. John is also hurt and resentful, determined to not allow Sherlock to undermine his relationship with his new fiancée. Greg, who always thought Sherlock and John belonged together, becomes a closer friend to Sherlock. He gives the Consulting Detective a place to stay, a friend to have dinner with, someone who will listen to him. He tries to keep all interfering feelings at bay. As Sherlock notices his friendship with Greg becomes stronger, he begins to accept that maybe he can be alright even with John not living at Baker Street any more. He and Lestrade can work at the Yard, and talk about cases. Greg is good at rescuing Sherlock when John and Mary’s wedding preparations get intense. They are friends. This is enough for Sherlock. Right?

I’m usually one for Papa Lestrade, but this fic is so well written it’s impossible not to ship it and it opened my mind to explore Sherstrade a bit more.

A fic you associate with a place

The Edinburg Problem by snorkeplie

Start of a series, 152k, 39/39, Johnlock, Holmes Family, Friends to Lovers, First Time, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Family Secrets, Case fic.

“A nice holiday, just a bit more...murdery. ” John said drily.

“Yes! The best kind of holiday!” Sherlock beamed. “So we won’t get bored!”

After he separates from Mary, John returns to Baker Street. Following a request for help from Sherlock's cousin Violet, the detective and his blogger take a trip to Edinburgh. John discovers more about the Holmes family and Sherlock than he bargained for, but tries not to run screaming.

Mind TW. I think the association is pretty obvious, and there’s also the fact that the series is called Scotland. So… yes.

PS: Also a brilliant fic. I love Cousin Violet.

A fic with a line (or two) that you’ve memorized by heart

I Don't Speak French by Ricechex

8k, 1/1, Major Character Death, Angst, Viclock, Mycroft Holmes, Drug Use, Sherlock speaks French.

“One of these days...” Victor wrapped his arms around Sherlock, pulling him closer. “I’ll learn fucking French.”

Line: Then he turned and flung himself into Mycroft's open arms, screaming against Mycroft's chest.

AND

Out Looking for Woodlice by celestialskiff

2k, 1/1, R/NC, Sherlock Holmes/Sebastian Wilkes, Drug Use, PTSD, Abusive Relationship, John Watson, Hurt/Comfort.

Originally written for a request on the kink meme, which asked for Sherlock having been in an abusive relationship with Sebastian, and John helping him heal from it. Reposted and cleaned up a bit.

Line: “I miss woodlice,” he told John. “There aren't any in this flat.”

I couldn’t choose just one fic for this one, so I went with two great fics, both of them a bit sad but with happier endings.

A fic that made you feel seen

2+2=5 by nauticus

33k, 4/4, Backstory, Autistic Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Mummy Holmes, Ableism, Mental Health Issues, Sign Language.

Sherlock is four years old and doesn’t have any words, but there’s a bird skeleton under a glass dome in his father’s study that he thinks might be his kindred spirit.

This fic, wow. I couldn’t relate to the exact circumstances the story displays, but the depiction of loneliness and isolation, along with the frustration of being constantñy misunderstood by the people around you (especially those that ought to see you the most) resonated so strongly with me it even made me tear up a bit. A wonderful read all around.

[ebaeschnbliah]

S E K H M E T

________________________________________________________________

The lioness goddesses of war and healing, who could only be appeased with the “feasts of drunkenness"

Some time ago, before S4 aired, I posted about the Prince’s case from TGG, with an addition/revision three months later - Connie Kenny & Raoul . In the course of the last two years, and with the new informations given in S4, some of my former ideas and theories have changed, some expanded. Which can be expected with this story full of surprises. :)  

My interpretaation of the character mirrors in the Prince’s case though, is today the same as in the addition from Dec 2016:

Connie Prince/Mycroft/brain

Kenny Prince/Sherlock/body

Raoul de Santos/Jim/sex

Sekhmet the cat/John/love

Back then I did only a very quick research of Sekhmet, the Egyptian goddess, because my main focus was on the human actors. Still, the combination of warrior and healer in Sekhmet’s attributes, combined with a strong connection to the sun, convinced me that this cat represents John. John is a soldier and a doctor, he hasn’t only a strong connection to the sun (conductor of light) but also to the lion … panthera leo ... family: felidae … cats. 

“Sekhmet. Named after the Egyptian goddess.”  (Kenny Prince, TGG)

Playing around with the five cases of TGG lately (Bruce-Partington), Sekhmet the cat came into focus once more and I researched that Egyptian goddess a bit more deeply … and found a lot of interesting and astonishing things I never noticed before.

Anyone who is interested in Egyptian goddesses in connection with Sherlock BBC, some musings on cats & lions and a little bit on dogs as well  ...  there’s more under the cut …. 

Sekhmet

In ancient Egypt Sekhmet was worshipped as a warrior goddess as well as a goddess of healing. She was depicted in art as a lioness, the fiercest hunter known to the Egyptians or as a woman with the head of a lioness, who was dressed in red, the colour of blood. Sekhmet was also a solar deity, sometimes called the daughter of Ra and bears the Uraeus (serpent), and the solar disk on her head. She is closely associated with the goddesses Hathor and Bastet and the Eye of Ra. 

Meaning of the name Sekhmet:  "the one who is powerful or mighty". Sekhmet was also called "One before whom evil trembles", "Mistress of Dread", "Lady of Slaughter" and "She who mauls". It was said that her breath formed the desert. She was seen as the protector of the pharaohs and led them in warfare. 

The festivals of intoxication 

To pacify Sekhmet, festivals were celebrated … the Egyptians danced and played music to soothe the wildness of the goddess and drank great quantities of wine ritually, to imitate the extreme drunkenness that stopped the wrath of the goddess, when she almost destroyed humanity. 

Hathor 

She was a major goddess who played a wide variety of roles and was one of several goddesses who acted as the Eye of Ra, Ra's feminine counterpart, and in this form she had a vengeful aspect that protected him from his enemies.

Hathor was often depicted as a cow, symbolizing her maternal and celestial aspects, although her most common form was a woman wearing a headdress of cow horns and a sun disk. She could also be represented as a lioness or a cobra. Titles given to her were: ‘Mistress of the Stars/Sky’, ‘Mistress of Love’, ‘Lady of the Offering/Contentment’.

Myths connecting Sekhmet and Hathor

In a myth about the end of Ra's rule on the earth, Ra sends Hathor as Sekhmet to destroy mortals who conspired against him. Sekhmet's blood-lust was not quelled at the end of battle and led to her destroying almost all of humanity, so Ra poured out beer, dyed red, so that it resembled blood. Mistaking the beer for blood, she became so drunk that she gave up the slaughter and returned peacefully to Ra.

In the ‘Book of the Heavenly Cow’. Ra sends Hathor as the Eye of Ra to punish humans for plotting rebellion against his rule. She becomes the lioness goddess Sekhmet and massacres the rebellious humans, but Ra decides to prevent her from killing all humanity. He orders that beer be dyed red and poured out over the land. The Eye goddess drinks the beer, mistaking it for blood, and in her inebriated state reverts to being the benign and beautiful Hathor. 

The two aspects of the Eye goddess ... violent and dangerous versus beautiful and joyful ... reflected the Egyptian belief that women encompassed both extreme passions of fury and love.

Bastet 

Originally she was also worshipped as a lioness goddess, just as Sekhmet. Along with the other lioness goddesses, Bastet would occasionally be depicted as the embodiment of the Eye of Ra and her festival was celebrated with great amouts of wine. Her name became associated with the lavish jars in which Egyptians stored their ointment used as perfume. Bastet thus gradually became regarded as the goddess of perfumes, earning the title of ‘perfumed protector’. Greeks occupying ancient Egypt toward the end of its civilization changed her into a goddess of the moon.

Eventually Bastet and Sekhmet were characterized as two aspects of the same goddess, with Sekhmet representing the dangerous side of her personality and Bastet, who was increasingly depicted as a cat, representing her benign side.

The Eye of Ra

The Eye of Ra is a feminine counterpart to the sun god Ra and a violent force that subdues his enemies. It is an extension of Ra's power, equated with the disk of the sun, but it is also an independent entity, which can be personified by  goddesses like Hathor, Sekhmet, Bastet and others. The Eye goddess acts as mother, sibling, consort, and daughter of the sun god. She is his partner in the creative cycle in which he begets the renewed form of himself that is born at dawn. 

The Egyptians often referred to the sun and the moon as the "eye"s of particular gods. At times they called the solar eye the "Eye of Ra" and the lunar eye the "Eye of Horus". The related hieroglyphs show the eye iconographically mirrored … from the perspective of the viewer it’s the left eye, from the viewpoint of the god, it’s the right one.

Source of historical information and images: Wikipedia (Sekhmet, Hathor, Bastet Eye of Ra)

Astonishing details shared with Sherlock BBC

The symbol of the eye turns up throughout the whole story. The sprayed eye from TBB and Sherlock’s eye from TEH.   ( Eyes    Eyes & Questionmarks)

Women dressed in red. Mary in TEH and Faith in TLD

A woman wearing cow horns. Mary in TSOT and Janine can also be seen with them in HLV. 

A woman wearing a snake on her head. Amanda in TBB.

The ‘Perfumed Protector’ and the moon. Sherlock and Mary from TEH and Claire de la Lune from HLV.   (Claire de la Lune   Clair De La Lune   Perfume Deduction   All things are blue

Lots of lions. These are both from TBB.  (John is the Lion sculpture  Cupid lions and omnia vincit Amor   TBB - hic sunt leones   Corporal Lyons’ insignias of love   Lions in TAB) 

The conductor of light. John in TGG and THOB.

A feast of drunkeness. Sherlock and John in TSOT.

Sekhmet  (TGG and a pic of the Gayer-Anderson Cat, which is believed to be a representation of Bastet (X)

Could it be that someone involved with Sherlock BBC is a big fan of Ancient Egypt? Or is all this just coincidence? Anyway, Sekhmet, Hathor, Bastet and the Eye of Ra …. all of them are closely connected to one another. 

one transforms into the other and back again

one develops from the other

they represent different aspects of the same thing

Regarding Sherlock BBC, this duality feels rather familiar. Especially where the ‘canines’ of the story are concerned. As @sagestreet points out in the Follow the Dog metas, all dogs are connected to sex and the fear of sex is represented by the monstrous hound. Two variations of canines serve to express different attitudes towards sexuality. 

At the same time there are also two human characters (male and female) who act as main mirrors for sexuality … Jim Moriarty, who conveniently calls himself Mr. Sex and Irene Adler, the cunning dominatrix. And in one scene from THOB two dogs can be seen in a shop, sitting side by side behind glass.

Sexuality is a very important aspect in life and in this story as well. Dogs and traces of dogs are interwined with it from the first to the last episode. RedBeard, either Irish Setter or someone else, turns out to be a key element in Sherlock’s past. 

What about love?

There’s another important aspect in life and in this story, besides sexuality. This aspect is love. How farfetched is it to assume that love might be portrayed in a similar way as sex? There exist already two human characters (male and female) who are widely considered to be main mirrors for love … John Watson and Molly Hooper. But is there also an animal who could represent love, like the dogs represent sex? An animal that appears, similar to the canines, in two different variations? 

Two cats in one pic, sitting in a shop behind glass … very similar to the two dogs in Speedy’s window. There are also two variations of felines who play a role in the story … cats and lions. A tame pet version and the big, wild and dangerous relative of the same species. And while John Watson is connected to lion and sun, Molly Hooper owns Toby the cat. 

Yes. I am officially going to be a mad old cat woman. I'm 31 and I'm single and I've bought a cat. But he's great. He's called Toby.   (Molly’s blog)

Felines …. cats and lions

A cat can scratch and bite you. It hurts, yes, but it wont kill you. A lion though, that one surely is able to ‘break every bone in your body, while naming it’ and can easily shred your heart into tiny pieces. Lions also often suffocate their prey by covering the muzzle. It’s called ‘the kiss of death’.

Molly & Irene - female mirrors for love & sex

There exists a striking similarity between Molly Hooper (love) and Irene Adler (sex). At Christmas in ASIB, both women send a gift for Sherlock (Mouth like a crimson wound). On both ocassions the wrapping paper is colour-coordinated with the lipstick. ‘The shade of red echoes her lipstick’ explains Sherlock in Molly’s case while the picture of Irene’s gift comes with a flashback to the beginning of the episode when she decides that a ‘shade of blood’ would be the perfect colour for her lips. Sherlock opens only one of the two presents that day … that of Irene (sex). I wrote about it in Explosive, it’s more me . The content of Molly’s present (love), is never revealed. 

John & Jim - male mirrors for love & sex

Choices and consequences … that’s a main theme which runs through the whole story and Sherlock seems to be torn between two aspects: John or James, James or John, saint or sinner … friend or lover … the more is less. This topic is adressed in detail in  Solutions or Choices  and  The Big Question - The menaing of Reichenbach. Therefore I leave it here. The picture below shows the strong connection between John (love) and Jim (sex) very clearly.

Sex and love

Sex - is action. It can be the breathtaking fulfillment of love. It can be given without love, it can be supressed, it can be sold, bought or taken by force. Sexuality can be controlled and locked away somewhere deep down in the hidden places of the soul. 

Love - is quite a different matter. Love can’t be supressed, sold or bought, or taken by force. Love can’t be given if it’s not there in the first place. Love can’t be controlled. Love is what it is. If love is there, it’s there. If not, then not. Love isn’t action. It is emotion. 

Therfore love is a much more dangerous aspect to deal with than sex … if one tries to avoid it because one is afraid of it. 

How to deal with too much unwanted emotion?

If Jim represents sex in this story, Sherlock’s counter measure against Mr. Sex seems to be a padded cell deep down in his mind palace. Here he keeps the unwanted urges fixed in a straight jacket and chained to the wall with an iron leash …. like a monstrous hound from hell  (Shoes for the hound).  A measure probably based on the pinciple: ‘don’t want it, don’t act on it’

LESTRADE: ... but these (murders) do appear to be suicides. We know the difference. The, um, the poison was clearly self-administered. REPORTER 3: Yes, but if they are murders, how do people keep themselves safe? LESTRADE: Well, don’t commit suicide.

Counter measures against love

If John represent love, how does Sherlock deal with love? This indomitable, uncontainable emotion. How does he react to a feeling he fears and desires at the same time? Comparing love to a powerful and deadly animal like a lion(ess) … what measures does Sherlock take to deal with that lion(ess)? How does one keep a dangerous lion(ess), if one can’t control that creature, that emotion? 

If one can’t chain it … maybe one can change it? 

It is known that Sherlock changes stories he doesn’t like. Could he apply a similar treatment to an emotion he fears? Transforms Sherlock LOVE, the mighty lion(ess), into a harmless cat, so he can keep it without danger. And the only remnant which indicates the actual origin of that ‘cat’ is the name Sherlock chooses for her in the play he creates on his mind stage ….. Sekhmet, the lioness goddess of war and healing. 

The cat breed chosen to play Sekhmet is a Sphynx Cat. Maybe that's not just another lovely nod to Ancient Egypt. It could also confirm Sherlock’s strategy to deal with his fear of an emotion like love ... by diminishing the source of that fear. Because of all cat breeds on this planet, Sphynx Cats are among the most vulnerable and helpless ones. 

Without a fur, their body isn’t protected against sunburn, hot/cold/wet weather, bites/scratches from other animals. They need to be bathed regularly to remove body-oils which would normally be absorbed by the fur. Without the constant care of their humans, those cats would not be able to survive outdoors for long. Maybe as a reaction to this helplessness, these cats have developed a very close and more dog-like relationship with humans. 

Diminishing the source of a fear in order to bypass it, to better cope with it … this strategy is also adressed in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, when Professor Lupin introduces his pupils to a boggart and teaches them how to deal with that creature:

"It's a shape-shifter. It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most. Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces, Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.” 

“The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing …. force it to look comical.”  (X)

Transforming a fear into something that is ridiculous or something that is profoundly helpless, achieves quite the same result. The fear might not go away but it diminishes. 

The conclusion of the Prince’s case

It isn’t Kenny, it is Connie who owns Sekhmet the cat and it is also Connie who employs Raoul de Santos. An appropiate choice if Connie indeed represents the brain. Both, the chemistry of love and of sex, have their origins in the brain after all.

The scenario performed in this little play on Sherlock’s mind stage, tells the story of a man (Kenny/Sherlock), of a body, who is clearly ruled and dominated by his brain (Connie/Mycroft). And that body isn’t happy at all under the reign of this government. It’s a brain that ‘works’, that ‘shows off’, a brain that knows exactly ‘what goes best with what’. While the body, the transport, gets constantly bullied, ridiculed and forced into a role it doesn’t want. But apparently there are also parts of the same brain that contemplate thoughts of love (Sekhmet/John) and sex (Raoul de Santos/Jim). 

Mirrored in the shiny surface of the table:  John & Sekhmet (love & love on different levels) while Raoul (sex) is silently lurking in the background.

By the end of this scenario Sherlock seems to come to the conclusion that sex would be the death of brain. Better and more reasonable to lock sex up somewhere deep down inside himself and stay safely back with the harmless cat. Definitely leave the lion in the bag. Cat/love/John without sex/Raoul/Jim would still be love …. philia/agape …. not eros. 

The outcome of the Prince’s experiment seems to be Sherlock’s basis for the following experiments. At any rate, by the end of The Reichenbach Fall, he comes to a very similar conclusion. Here too Sherlock chooses brain/work over love and sex. This time to save friendship (philia) and he sends his body into hiatus/undercover … into a metaphorical coffin. 

Then he puts on a facade to hide his true self behind it. And Sherlock keeps the cat/lion(ess) because, after all, he (Sherlock/Mary) is a big cat lover. 

Thanks for reading this far. I leave you to your own deductions. Thanks @callie-ariane for the scripts. :)

November, 2018

Related metas which inspired me:

Follow the dog Meta-Series   Cats and dogs   Conny and Kenny Prince   John is the Lion sculpture

Cupid lions and omnia vincit Amor   TBB - hic sunt leones   Corporal Lyons’ insignias of love   Lions in TAB   

Sherlock Cats&Dogs   

@gosherlocked @sherlockshadow @possiblyimbiassed @raggedyblue @sarahthecoat @sagestreet @loveismyrevolution @spenglernot

[drgreg]

Dr Gregory Images

Markus says they tested 18 hyena and had constructive results within quarter-hour. They tested the animals' blood stress, arterial blood gas and picked up important signs data earlier than the animals had been reversed. The combination has been used successfully to immobilise wild canine, cheetah and lion.

“In 1998, he joined the Army Reserve and have become a part-time rifleman. In November 2002, Greg was amongst a rifle firm of military reservists deployed to East Timor to deal with the deteriorating humanitarian and safety state of affairs in the region. On his return to Australia, Greg efficiently certified as a member of the Special Forces. “After leaving faculty, Greg worked for his father in the finance enterprise, and at 19, he joined the Community Security Group, knowledgeable security team that oversees the protection of Jewish schools, synagogues, and particular Jewish events.

Any free metallic object has the danger of causing injury or harm if it gets pulled toward the robust magnet. If this retains you from mendacity nonetheless, you may be given a drugs that can help you relax. Some MRI machines at the moment are made so that the magnet doesn't enclose your whole physique. Open MRI machines could additionally dr gregory images be helpful if you are claustrophobic, but they do not seem to be obtainable in all places. The footage from an open MRI will not be nearly as good as these from a regular MRI machine. During the check, you usually lie in your back on a table that is a part of the MRI scanner.

After completing internship and community service at Pretoria Academic Hospital and WK Knobel hospitals respectively as all of us as a spell as a general practitioner, he came to UCT for his Dermatology coaching. In addition, most of the specialists have developed their very own areas of interest and experience. That implies that patients are referred to the physician with probably the most appropriate expertise. After training for five months on the Yuri Gagarin Cosmonaut Training Center in Moscow, he launched on a Russian Soyuz rocket TMA-7 on October 1, 2005 with Cosmonaut Valeri Tokarev and Astronaut Bill McArthur .

Over 10 million customers come to us every month for the news.We have not put it behind a paywall because the reality shouldn't be a luxury. Instead we ask our readers who can afford to contribute, even a small quantity each month, to do so. If it is, you'll get R200 a month in Uber vouchers straight back and a host of other benefits.

I am hoping that we will get to R10,000 before the supply expires mid November. Is the question of whether there's a better method to calibrate and align donor spending to the international locations which are performing better by means of the statement of democratic and human rights, mentioned Mills. Looks at worldwide examples of successful expenditure in countries corresponding to Colombia. To make clear some of the issues discussed in his guide, Mills was joined by Ugandan opposition chief Bobi Wine and Movement for Democratic Change vice-president and former Zimbabwean finance minister Tendai Biti.

He completed BLS and BAA coaching, and is receiving coaching as a Hyperbaric Chamber Operator. He takes care of all of our patients' administrative challenges. Dr. Rannakoe Lehloenya, commonly referred to as ‘Ranks” is a registered Dermatologist. He graduated from National University of Lesotho with a BSc in 1989 and from MBChB from Medunsa in 1997.

This article is licensed underneath a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. I agree that unscrupulous firms are making low stress flexible luggage as a means of extorting money from patients who do not perceive that 1.5 ATA with 100 percent Oxygen is the absolute minimum for medical efficacy, . Former chiropractor Malcolm Hooper, who owned the hyperbaric therapy clinic Oxymed Australia, is to face trial for unsafe apply following the demise of a former client who was undergoing remedy for multiple sclerosis at Hooper’s facility. The company SpecialKids advertises delicate hyperbaric therapy by way of O2xygenate for off-label circumstances in kids. But practitioners of so-called gentle hyperbaric oxygen therapy are fraudulently cashing in on the science that helps medically-approved HBOT.

The project was carried out with the knowledge of the Medical Control Council. According to Markus, numerous drug mixtures have been used to immobilise hyena prior to now of which all have their very own drawbacks, similar to stormy induction and lengthy restoration occasions. You could republish this text, as long as you credit the authors and GroundUp, and do not change the text. Treatment is run in a particular chamber where patients inhale 100% % medical oxygen at high pressure - twice the common atmospheric pressure exerted at sea degree. This increases the amount of oxygen within the blood, which “has direct and indirect therapeutic medical effects which promote the therapeutic process,” says Roberts. But this applies solely to the situations for which it is indicated.

One-off courses are 4 days lengthy and will include technical and different specialist areas of drawing and painting. After the workshop, ongoing feedback and critical response is performed via a closed FB web page dr gregory images and college students from all centres are able to take part in the collective expertise. The next workshop consolidates and the post-workshop correspondence is meant to ensure a finished product from everybody.

[animaltrainingacademy]

Carrie-Anne Selwyn: Canine Hoopers World [Episode 184]

Carrie-Anne Selwyn is a dog trainer, podcaster, speaker, hoopers judge and competitor and the founder of Canine Hoopers World. Originally a riding instructor Carrie also worked at a groomers and a cattery. After passing her level 3 animal care Carrie pursued a career in dog training in 2012 Becoming a qualified trainer with the IMDT. 

She is now an ambassador for the Pet Professional network, a guest speaker for the Distinctive dog trainer and IMDT and PPG Australia. A course tutor and assessor for the IMDT. Carrie also has two successful podcasts Canine Hoopers World and the Dog Training Dictionary. Carrie has taught internationally both in person and virtually. She set up Canine Hoopers World in 2019 and has taught over 500 instructors how to teach hoopers in over 15 different countries.

Carrie competes regularly with her GSD Dodge and he was ranked 2nd in the large rescue dog league and won the shepherd league this year, He was also runner up in a winter series of competition and achieved his platinum warrant.

For links click here >>> https://atamember.com/2022/10/10/carrie-anne-selwyn/

Check out this episode!

[petnews2day]

Thousands of dogs go barking mad for return of Dogstival and Broadlands

New Post has been published on https://petnews2day.com/dog-news/thousands-of-dogs-go-barking-mad-for-return-of-dogstival-and-broadlands-3/

Thousands of dogs go barking mad for return of Dogstival and Broadlands

THOUSANDS of wagging tails descended on a Hampshire country estate for the return of a hugely popular dog festival.

Canine kings and queens gathered at Broadlands in Romsey in their droves for Dogstival, which also marked the Platinum Jubilee.

The festival, which is set to continue throughout Sunday, is expected to welcome around 15,000 people and thousands of their furry companions across the weekend.

It is the first time the event has been held at Broadlands, after previously taking place in the New Forest at Burley Park and outgrowing its home due to its popularity.

Billed as the ‘ultimate doggy weekend’, there were four arenas full of canine approved entertainment, live music, street performers and the Muddy Paws Tavern which hosted talks and breed meet ups.

At this special Platinum Jubilee edition, plenty of pooches enjoyed a giant doggy Barkingham Palace street party with a British afternoon tea created just for four-legged diners. Plus, huge canine thrones.

Owners got to try their hand at Crufts-style activities, including Barkour, Dogstival’s twist on parkour, where pups can navigate their way through an adventure playground of agility ramps, tunnels, ball pits, see-saws and more, as well as agility, hoopers and flyball.

READ MORE: Hollywood stars Scarlett Johansson and Sienna Miller pictured shooting film scenes in tiny Hampshire village

Early bursts of rain made way for a largely sunny afternoon, but plenty of pups still made a splash by launching themselves into a giant 10m dog diving splash pool and enjoying water-based retrieves.

Paul Brett from Farnborough entered his dog Daphne into one of the competitions. He said: “We came last year when it was in Burley but this is the first time we’ve entered Daphne into anything. We booked for five nights specifically just for this – it’s awful fun. Daphne learnt a trick, she didn’t win but it was just great to see her in the ring enjoying herself with the other dogs.”

New for 2022 was the Stand-Up Canine Comedy with the Barking Mad Comedy Club.

Guests perched on hay bales were also treated to family-friendly shows with canine experts and comedians, before more adult stand-up show started as the afternoon went on.

The comedy line-up joined Dogstival’s wider entertainment offering of live music, which this year included modern choir groups Love Soul Choir and Sing Now Choir, street performers and vintage funfair rides. While a host of Hampshire and Dorset vendors offered a range of street food for hungry humans and dogs alike.

Garry and Jane Marsh are visiting friends in Lymington and decided to come to the festival with their dog, Nina. They said: “We’ve loved it, it’s very friendly down here and there are lots of beautiful dogs. Nina has got her collar on for the jubilee as well. She got a little bit wet earlier on but thankfully the sun has come through now.”

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[thehiddenlawyer]

Fire in the Blood-- Sherlolly with a Twist

Because i love @mel-loves-all and because she gets me (Kleypas, BDB, Sherlock, X-Files....what else?) enjoy the following Sherlolly one-shot featuring a Sherlock Holmes who is...not quite himself. 

Read on Ao3

Adult content and language below, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Enjoy the twist ending!

If she’d learned anything over the course of her relationship with Sherlock Holmes it was to trust him, and know that if he needed her, he would let her know. They’d been together for over a year now, ever since he’d shown up at her door in the middle of the night after the strange phone call, to tell her that he’d meant it.

That damned phone call…

She stared at her phone now, frowning down at it, her thoughts fluttering around her randomly, thinking that the phone she’d used to answer him was upstairs, still getting used to this new one in her palm. But of course, being with Sherlock meant that the strange texts and phone calls were endless and expected in their unexpectedness.

Like Sherlock texting a few days ago, letting her know he and John were back from their investigation that had led them to some far away Eastern European country she couldn’t name. Her heart had fluttered, her skin heating as she thought about their reunion, warming at the thought of being in his arms, in his bed, taking him into her body…But he’d sent her another text, telling her to stay away from Baker Street and from him for another few days. When she’d asked why, his response had been terse, even in text form.        

So, she’d stayed away, but she had texted John asking what had a happened. He’d been uncharacteristically silent, telling her to wait for Sherlock. Concern had bloomed in her chest, but she’d fought the urge to simply go to Baker Street and break down the door if she needed to. She was patient, but this was day three and she was missing Sherlock, and there was something sacrilegious about Sherlock being in London and her not being able to go to him.

Mind made up, she left her flat, pulling on a jumper as she hailed down a cab, not caring about the late hour, the cold breeze not registering, the full moon barely peaking her interest as it watched her from behind thick, gloomy Summer clouds. Her entire focus was on Baker Street and the man that was there, the man whose skin she craved with a distracted madness she couldn’t quite understand, had never believed she was capable of.

His skin was an addiction, the taste of him an endless desire, a heady urge, a thought, a palpable presence in her life, her need for him an entity that followed her everywhere, a heavy shadow…she had thought that once she knew she belonged to him, that he loved her, that they shared a life, a bed, a breath, she would be able to find some sanity but with each kiss, the addiction became worse, the need an electric currant. Molly knew that if she lived a thousand lifetimes, she would never get tired of the way his ears turned bright red when he orgasmed inside her, the way he could never quite keep his eyes closed when he was kissing her, the way he surged inside her, the expression on his face so intense, so concentrated, the feeling of his breath against her throat as he took her. She would never get the tired of his deep baritone and the breathless way he moaned her name after his orgasm, the way his eyes danced when he called her darling when they were alone…

Sherlock.

She wondered if he was as addictive as heroin, and knew he was worse than caffeine and nicotine...

Just one taste.

Just one hit.

More.

More.

More.

She felt nervous when she got to Baker Street, slightly worried as she paid her fare, wondering why he’d demanded she stay away. Molly faltered in her step, suddenly stopping in front of Speedy’s, terrified as she wondered if he’d started using again. But she quickly dismissed the thought, thinking that John, if not Mycroft, would have told her…right?

Using her key, she went inside the flat, climbing the stairs two at a time and frowning at the door that stood slightly ajar. She stopped on top of the stairs, listening for any sounds from Mrs. Hudson downstairs or for any sound of life from inside Sherlock’s flat. Frowning, something tightening in her chest, making her anxious as she pushed open the door, “Sherlock?” she called, frowning at the darkened flat, the flimsy drapes replaced with heavy burgundy colored ones, the entire place drowning in darkness, “Darling?” she called, thinking that maybe he had started using again.

“What are you doing here?” he asked standing directly behind her, making her jump, wondering how she hadn’t heard his movement behind her, especially with that telltale floorboard a few paces behind her.

“Jesus,” she gasped, “you scared me,” she clutched her chest, turning around to face him, “I—I—” his eyes were so intense, a burning white light, his lips drawn tight, his jaw clenching as he frowned down at her, so imposing, so big. “I got—I was—you see, when you didn’t—”

“Molly,” he interrupted her stammering, impatient with her inability to speak, stepping into her, his skin snow white against the purple of his shirt, the first few buttons undone to reveal his long throat, the red mark on the side of his neck making her frown, “what are you doing here?”

“I was worried,” she told him, dragging her eyes back up to his, swallowing against the fear that suddenly gripped her, feeling as if she were a wounded gazelle caught in the crosshairs of a starving jaguar.

He took another step towards her, his chest flush against her now as he looked down at her, the muscles in his jaw clenching rhythmically as she shivered, thinking it must be her imagination that he was cold to the touch, making her nipples harden as she gasped for breath, “I told you not to come until I told you.”

“I-I know,” she stammered, “but I couldn’t,” she closed her eyes, looking away and felt her thoughts shift and finally flow again, “Sherlock, I had to see you. What’s happening? What aren’t you telling me?”

“I told you not to come,” his voice was a growl, God that baritone couldn’t have gotten deeper, could it? “I didn’t want you here because I didn’t want you in danger. And here you are, charging in as you always do, destroying all my plans.”

“Danger? What danger?” she looked up at him frowning, her thoughts feeling muddled again, as if someone had hijacked her hard drive.

“Molly,” he reached up with his right hand, his fingers shockingly cold as he touched her cheek, his touch light, a whisper, “I need you to leave, right now.”

She shook her head stubbornly, gripping the front of his tight shirt in her fists to emphasize her point, “no,” she breathed, her voice only slightly trembling, “not—not until you tell me what’s happening. What’s wrong.”

Sherlock moved his broad hand down her cheek, his eyes following the movement of his hand as it traced across her jaw before he cupped her throat in his palm, his long fingers nearly completely engulfing her slender neck as she panted. She wasn’t afraid of him, she’d felt this touch a million times, usually with both hands as he leaned into her for a kiss, or even when they stood toe-to-toe to talk. She had the strangest feeling he was taking her pulse, his head slightly tilted, those pale eyes filled with a ferocity that rooted her to the spot, “Sherlock,” she breathed, “tell me. How can I help?”

His smile was tight even as it crinkled the corners of his eyes. Usually when he smiled, that soul searing smile, his mouth would open wide too, revealing his lips as he grinned but why was he keeping his lips tightly drawn over his mouth? She shook the thought away.

“Molly Hooper,” he said softly, “ever my champion.”

She laughed softly, “tell me,” she repeated.

“You’re in danger Molly,” he told her, his thumb stroking over the pulse point on her throat, “you need to run away, as fast as you can, and not look back.”

“What happened?” she grew frustrated, “did you catch some—some infectious disease or something while you were away? You’re acting crazy!”

“You could say I did catch some disease,” he murmured, “what would you do then?”

She blew out a breath, “I’m here aren’t I?”

“Something happened,” he finally told her, “something….unexpected, unnatural. We were—we were chasing a suspect, a woman we thought had killed a long list of lovers. We…followed her and she trapped…me, John escaped, thank God. But uhm,” he shook his head, “and Molly I need you to know that I tell you this after days of rumination and obsessive thought and thorough analyses, I need you to remember that this is me speaking these words.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, watching him closely.

“I believe—” he cleared his throat, his hand still wrapped gently around her throat, his eyes still on her pulse, “I believe I was—attacked by a…vampire.”

“What!” she yelled before she could stop herself.

His chuckle was soft, “I told you to keep in mind the speaker.”

“I know but…” she shook her head.

He tilted his neck to the side, showing her the red mark on his neck, “she was of slight frame, the woman who attacked me. Shorter than you, more petite but I couldn’t shake her off, she held me down with inhuman strength. I’ve never felt anything like that in my life,” his eyes were so sincere, his words clear as were his eyes, and she found herself believing him as she looked at the marks on his throat.

Holy shit.

Two perfect puncture marks, the appropriate width of canines from each other but thicker in diameter, her years of training as a pathologist letting her see that whatever had made the marks had been very sharp before expanding with a downward motion. “She drained me,” he continued, “and—I guess turned me—before John got to us. But it was…it was too late by then. I went through…the change, whatever you want to call it, the metamorphosis, a few hours after that.”

“What….”

He didn’t need her to finish the sentence, “I can’t describe it, it felt as if my entire genetic code was rewritten, set on fire from head to foot, ripped apart only to be sown back together again. When it was done…” he shook his head, letting out a breath, “she was there, with John. I can…hear better, I…can see better,” a smile touched the corner of his lip but he kept his upper lip drawn tight over his teeth, making her heart thunder, “I can hear your heartbeat Molly Hooper, I can see its tattoo against your skin, right here,” he pressed his thumb gently against her pulse, “I can smell your confusion, your concern, it smells like,” he inhaled, “a blend of citrus and…burning plastic. But you’re not afraid.”

Blinking at him, she realized she was twisting his shirt in her fists, wrinkling the material but she couldn’t let go, “you’re—you’re still my Sherlock,” she said matter-of-factly, “so…you’re…you’re a…a vampire now?”

“I don’t know,” he told her honestly, “I was…informed by the…female that turned me, that there are different types of vampires, and that type is dictated by some ancient strain in each individual’s DNA, an evolutionary back door that’s triggered by extreme circumstances. For some, when they are faced with this particular hardship, they become vampires that depend on the blood of others, some survive on energy, some on emotion. And some,” his eyes flipped to hers, “on sex.”

Molly’s mind split into two living, warring entities in that moment. The intelligent part of her mind, the part of her that was emotionally and mentally attached to her Sherlock, that wanted him happy and healthy and whole, that would easily lay down her life for his happiness, was worried out of her wits, simultaneously wondering if he’d lost his mind, if she should take him to a psychiatrist for evaluation, to the emergency ward for brain scans to see if he’d hit his head somewhere. The other half of her mind, her lizard mind, her most basic self that starved for his body, came to life and kept making earnest, heartfelt wishes and prayers that he was the latter type of vampire.

“And—and what do you—” she raised her eyebrows at him.

“If you don’t leave now Molly Hooper, I will consume you,” he told her frankly, “I will keep you in bed for endless days, take your body and your orgasms and sustain myself with you.”

“Oh,” she breathed, “oh,” she repeated, “okay, so you’re…that kind of…v—vampire.”

“You think I’m insane, don’t you,” he laughed softly.

“A bit,” she murmured, “but you’re Sherlock, and you wouldn’t be telling me this unless you’re playing some sort of joke on me, which I know you’re not because you can’t lie to me.”

“I physically am incapable of lying to you, we both know that,” he tight smile was angelic.

“Can I see…Sherlock, open your mouth.”

He took a second, filling his lungs, his pink tongue wetting his lips before he finally opened his mouth and she gasped, leaning against his body for support as she looked at his inhumanly long canines.

Fangs.

Long fangs.

“Holy shit,” she managed to let go of his shirt, reaching up to touch one of them and he held still for her, the tension in his body incredible, as if he thought any twitch of his muscles would send her into a tailspin.

She had a feeling he was right.

“I don’t know what….what am I supposed…to say?” she looked up at him, “you still feel like my Sherlock, you look like my Sherlock, you talk like my Sherlock,” she flattened her palm against his chest, smiling, “your heartbeat still feels like my Sherlock’s.”

“I am your Sherlock,” he told her softly, “and this heart will always be yours, no matter what trouble I get in to.”

Molly chuckled, leaning forward and pressed her lips to the base of his throat, his skin cool against her lips as he reached up with the other hand to grip the back of her head, “I love you,” she told him, finally letting go of his shirt, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I love you too,” he murmured, and finally, finally lowered his head to her, his lips soft, as cool as his throat as they touched her mouth tentatively, as if waiting for her to run away. When she opened her mouth for him, encouraging him to deepen their kiss, she opened her eyes to see that he was watching her the way he always did, even as he dipped his tongue into her mouth. She moaned as she pushed closer to him, his hard body achingly familiar as she held on to him, running her hands up his back, feeling the power of his shoulders, the muscles beneath her palm.

He pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, gasping, “will you spend the night with me?”

“Sherlock,” she laughed, sinking her fingers into his hair, “you were the one kicking me out a few minutes ago.”

“That was back when you didn’t know—”

“Shut up,” she told him, and let him lift her off the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply, sucking his tongue into her mouth as he carried her to his armchair, setting her down and kneeling on the floor between her legs.

She had lied to him, she thought as he pressed his open mouth to her throat, her trembling fingers unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders even as he lifted her t-shirt up and off her, tossing it somewhere behind them, his cold palms against her nipples through her bra making her shiver. He did feel different against her, he tasted different. He was still Sherlock but…not at the same time. He felt bigger, more imposing…massive. She had the strange sensation that if she let him, he would overwhelm her completely, take over her entire existence, her being. Enslave her.

When he kissed the inside of her thighs, she watched with breathless anticipation, her fingers sifting through his curls, watching his swollen, red lips kiss the creamy inside of her thighs as she spread herself wantonly for him. She tightened her fingers in his hair as he dragged a long canine over her thigh, watching his pink tongue touch her right there, taste her, enter her so intimately, with such sinful, aching knowing. She arched against him, moaning his name as his clever lips and tongue worked inside her, the pit of her stomach heavy with need, with want. She closed her eyes, letting the sensation flood her as he ate her, consumed her, shook her entire existence.

His voice was deep, garbled, “look at me,” he commanded, and she gasped in shock when she looked down, the pale swirl of greenish blue glowing, “watch me,” he told her, making her scream as he slipped his tongue inside her, as he watched her, as he commanded her to become undone, unglued. She shattered into a million pieces around him, sure that she died as sensations flooded her, as a thousand flames licked her skin just as he licked her.

He made her scream louder as he pulled away, his lips and chin glossy, his eyes holding that unholy glow as he slipped inside her in a single, lithe moment, not letting her settle around his girth as he pumped inside her, pushing inside her with gasps and grunts. She was boneless, collapsing back against the back of the armchair, watching the concentration on his face, watching the powerful muscles in his body grip bone and release with his every movement, her eyes forever finding the scar from his bullet wound.

“Molly,” he gasped, and she lifted herself up again, wrapping her legs around his waist. She always knew when he said her name like that, with undisguised desperation as he drove himself deeper, harder inside her very soul, he needed her to kiss him. And she did, tasting herself on his tongue, shocked as she felt another orgasm lick her spine.

When he sank his fangs into her throat as her second orgasm ripped her reality to shreds, Molly Hooper’s entire world disappeared, reduced to nothing but her love, her Sherlock’s body, his gasps against her throat as he fed from her, as he released all that tension deep within her warmth. Nothing mattered, nothing existed, not even her own screams of pleasure, not the sensation flooding her…just Sherlock. Always Sherlock.

Only you.

He pressed his cheek against her chest as their bodies tried to settle, breathing heavily as she ran her hands through his hair, legs still wrapped around his lean waist. “How often do you need to feed?” she asked quietly, her heart finally slowing down to a normal rate, her skin slick with sweat as she held him in her arms.

“Often,” he turned his face to look up at her, “very often. Imagine me as someone constantly on the brink of starvation Molly Hooper, and you my only sustenance,” his features became dark, the savage beauty of his face cast in the shadows almost frightening in their perfection, “I told you I would keep you in bed for days.”

Molly Hooper’s eyes flew open and she looked up at the familiar ceiling of 221B Baker Street, blinking in confusion as she tried to figure out what she was hearing, finally recognizing the drone of a television. Her hand fluttered down, touching her pregnant belly, feeling the familiar foot that kicked her from within.

“Molly?” a familiar voice called for her, from somewhere to her left, Sherlock’s face coming into view as he frowned down at her, “you alright?” he asked, his voice filled with concern as he leaned down, touching his fingertips to her cheek.

She thought they felt warmer, familiar, “yeah,” she murmured, “what—happened?”

“Dunno,” he answered, “you just went down for a nap after work, you were making all sorts of noise in your sleep. Were you having a nightmare?”

She laughed, holding her hand out for her husband to help her sit up, loving how careful and gingerly he helped her up before sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She rubbed his simple wedding band between her fingertips, looking into his pale, nearly white eyes with hints of blue and green but they weren’t glowing any more. “Open your mouth,” she told him.

“What?” he blinked at her.

“Open your mouth,” she repeated with a laugh, grinning when he appeased her and she saw his normal, white canines where the fangs had been, his skin still palm but warm beneath her touch as she spread his fingers over his chest.

The same familiar heartbeat.

“Should I call the doctor?” he was watching her as if she had lost her mind.

She laughed, shaking her head as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him, “have I told you how much I love pregnancy dreams?” she asked him, feeling his shoulders tremble with laughter.

[best-horror-movies]

Best Horror Movies

3. The Thing (1982)

The movie: Perhaps you’ve been buried in snow and have missed  best John Carpenter’s ultimate creature feature. Entirely understandable. Why don’t you come closer to the fire and defrost? The title might sound hokey but The Thing remains one of the most gloriously splattery and tense horrors of all time as a group of Americans at an Antarctic research station - including Kurt Russell’s R.J MacReady - take on an alien, well, thing that infects blood. It might start off taking out the canine companions - there’s no need to check out DoesTheDogDie.com this time around - but it really doesn’t stop there.

Why it’s scary: The Thing is a movie of physicality. There’s intense paranoia and horror sprinkled in as the party begins to fall apart as the infection spreads but it’s the very real, oh-so-touchable nature of the nasties at work here that’s so disturbing. The practical effects - the responsibility of a young Rob Bottin and uncredited Stan Winston - are the true stars as arms are eaten by chests, decapitated heads sprout legs, and bodies are elongated and stretched. The macabre vision of these murderous monsters at work is never anything less than true nightmare fuel. It has an amazing experience.

2. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)

 The movie: Some movie titles are vague, letting you gradually work out their meaning as the narrative slowly unfurls in front of your eyes like a delicate flower in tea. Then there’s Tobe Hooper’s grim, sweaty horror movie. There is nothing delicate here. Its titular weapon needs to be sharp but The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is a blunt instrument of horror. This is a tour de force of violence as five young people leave the safety of the world behind and journey into dusty Americana. What they find in one house when they innocently enter looking for gas is such death and depravity that the movie is still, decades on, a disturbing endurance test.

 Why it’s scary: The funny - and there is humor here, it’s just not there on the first watch - thing about the Texas Chainsaw Massacre is that there’s actually very little blood. There’s the iconic Leatherface, inspired by Ed Gein in his fleshy face covering, and a death scene involving a hook that will make you look down and check your body is still there, but very little viscera. Gore is something that your brain mentally splashes everywhere to try and deal with the horror on screen here, to cope with the screams of pure terror and iconic disturbing soundtrack. It’s suffered plenty of clones over the years, not to mention a Michael Bay-produced glossy cash cow remake, but nothing can replicate the sheer desperation and violent honesty of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It would almost be dangerous to try.  

   1. The Shining (1980)

The movie: Even if you haven’t watched Stanley Kubrick’s masterpiece it is way scarier, you’ll know of The Shining. You’ll know Jack Nicholson’s (apparently ad-libbed) "Heeeeeeeere’s Johnny" and you might even be aware that if you’re handed the keys to room 237 in a hotel, you might want to switch it for another suite. But what if you haven’t? What if you have been snowed up in a mysterious hotel with only hedge animals for company? Well, The Shining follows a man and his family as he takes on the role of winter caretaker at a resort hotel known as The Overlook. Given that this is a Stephen King adaptation (albeit one that that horror author hates so much that he made his own movie), the winter months don’t go well. The Overlook Hotel, it turns out, doesn’t really like people.

 Why it’s scary: There's a reason that this is the top of this veritable pile of screams. The Shining feels evil. From Jack Nicholson’s deranged performance as a man descending into murderous insanity to Kubrick’s relentless direction as we hypnotically follow Danny navigating the hotel corridors on his trike, this is a movie that never lets you feel safe. Like Hereditary earlier in this list, The Shining is like being driven by a drunk mad man. What’s coming next? Lifts of blood? Chopped up little girls? The terror that lurks in the bath of room 237? This is not a horror movie made of boo scares or cheap tricks, Kubrick’s film is a lurking, dangerous beast that stays with you long after your TV has gone dark

[pawsitivevibe]

Hoopin'

[aquestionablemutt]

We’re not going Hoopers today. I don’t feel great and am still tired from yesterday. And idk if this is the right sport for me. It’s not my top choice (not even my second), but I thought it would be good for Roma to learn something new and begin in the world of dog sports.

However after last week, she wasn’t that into it. I keep thinking about it and kinda liken it to this scenario:

“You’re in school and you’re unsure of how to solve this maths problem. You’ve done similar problems but this one is a bit more difficult. You ask the teacher for help several times, but they just stand there blankly. So you try and solve it and do it wrong. No reward and you have to start all over again.”

Like if that was me, I wouldn’t want to put my 100% effort into doing it again. Especially when I needed guidance and help and it wasn’t given. I would give bare minimum effort. And I’m pretty sure that’s what happened to Roma. I was told I couldn’t help her at all. So she got frustrated, tried doing something but was wrong, got no reward and had to do it all over again!

I felt upset and frustrated for her and should’ve said something sooner. Although I did put my foot down the second time she failed and said I’m going to show her. But for the rest of the lesson she was less engaged and seemed bored.

I also don’t think that she finds going through the hoops very fun. She likes the barrels and tunnels but the hoops are a bit dull.

And I know she has drives for objects. When I get some of the canine conditioning stuff out, she tries and jumps on them before I’ve even put them on the floor!

I have made a promise that if she didn’t/doesn’t enjoy it we’ll quit. I’ve FINALLY found a htm venue nearish us, but it’s nearly an hour away and starts on a work evening. 7:30pm-9pm so I’d be pushed to get home, have something to eat and then get going!

My other option was to spend the Hoopers money on renting out the village halls instead to practice in. Or to focus on her trick dog titles. Downside to them though, is I’ve got no one to help me out or use as distractions for Roma.

So idk. I’ll probably go back next week, see how she is and how she goes in the lesson. Last thing I want to do is kill her work ethic. Like Roma is not the type of dog who will work to please me. If she thinks I’ve got no rewards on me she puts in minimum effort. (I’m trying to now surprise her with rewards, but she keeps sniffing them out!!!)

Plus side is that her obedience is going well and she enjoys going there. AND she has an actual doggie friend!

[happydogsbz]

La Yuki si prepara a fare HOOPERS! #puppypaws #puppyfever #dogfriends #canineartist #puppyday #puppydogeyes #dogart #canions #puppyproblems #dogslover #caninekarmatraining #cani #canines #doggylove #canidae #canidiinstagram #puppylover #dog #puppy #dogs #dogsofinstagram #dogstagram #puppylove #doglover #dogoftheday #doglovers #doglife #dogsofinsta #dogs_of_instagram #doggo (hier: Happy Dogs Bolzano) https://www.instagram.com/p/CTYxyRXjEyy/?utm_medium=tumblr

[lilsherlockian1975]

Part 3 of The Potential of Pairs

Here’s the next installment of my little PotterLock. Once again, huge thanks to @darnedchild and @mrsmcrieff for their help and support. Hope everyone is enjoying it so far, it’s still rated T. @mizjoely thanks again for the prompt, this is for you, my friend! Enjoy! ~Lil~

Part 3 - The Progression of Partnerships

She started meeting up with Sherlock several times a week to study or just talk over theories. Usually, they met in the library but sometimes, if the weather permitted, they’d walk to the Black Lake and sit in the sun as they worked. Eventually, their conversations turned to more personal topics, which surprised her the most.

Soon she learned about the ‘detective business’ that Professor Snape had mentioned. It seemed that Sherlock intended to create his own profession upon graduation: Consulting Detective. Molly was fascinated.

There was so much more to him than bluster and beration. He was actually funny when his scathing wit wasn’t directed at her. One of the most surprising things she found out about him, was that he had a deep compassion for animals and magical creatures.

He talked at length about a dog he’d had while growing up. A dog. Not magical beast, but a regular canine, a mut even. What was a Pureblood doing with a Muggle pet?

She knew he wasn’t a typical Slytherin, his closest friends were Gryffindors, for Merlin’s sake. But with each passing day, Molly found out new and, unfortunately for the crush she thought she was over, wonderful things about the wizard.

One day, whilst studying near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the pair heard a distinct rustling of leaves, then footsteps. Turning to her left, Molly saw a Thestral foal edging close to the clearing where they were seated. The small thing looked frightened and lost (and also a bit terrifying).

Sherlock stood, slowly, carefully and walked toward the creature. “Can you see it, Molly?” he asked, never taking his eyes off the beast.

“Yes,” she whispered as she stood. Having been with her mother when she passed, Molly, unfortunately, could indeed see the skeletal creature.

“Amazing, isn’t he?” Sherlock said as he continued to inch forward. “Hand me a bit of ham.”

It took Molly a couple of seconds to realise what he meant, then she picked up one of the sandwiches they’d been nibbling on as they worked, pulled out the meat and slowly walked to her lab partner. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “It’s a boy?”

He chuckled. “A male, yes.” Nearly reaching the foal, Sherlock stretched out his hand closing the distance and offering it some of the meat.

Molly held her breath, waiting to see how the creature would react. The foal lowered his head, sniffing Sherlock’s hand, then quickly took the proffered snack. Sherlock moved slightly closer and stroked its leather-like skin.

“Come here, Molly. You have to feel this,” Sherlock said.

Slowly, carefully as not to startle it, she stepped closer to them. “Will it let me?”

“Him. And yes. He’s not shy, although he should be.” He took her hand and brought it up to the foal’s nose. “Just be gentle. He doesn’t mind.”

As soon as she touched the creature's snout, Molly gasped, causing it to take a half a step back.

“Sorry,” she said, pulling away.

“No-no. It’s okay.” Sherlock offered the young Thestral another bit of ham. The creature quickly returned, taking the food and allowing the wizard to touch him. “Let’s get him back to his herd.”

“Shouldn't I go get Hagrid?” she asked.

“I know where to lead him,” Sherlock replied, then started to walk deeper into the forest.

Molly followed a bit bewildered, but impressed nevertheless. Ten minutes into their journey, she couldn’t take it any longer. “Sherlock, how do you know where to take him?”

He smirked. “Let’s see if you’ve been paying attention, shall we?”

The witch huffed. He had been teaching her about the science of deduction, but Molly just wanted a straightforward answer, not another lesson.

“Come on, Molly. Why would I have such knowledge?”

She considered it for a moment. “You haven’t taken Magical Creatures since fifth year.” Looking around nervously, she added, “Not that Hagrid has ever taken us this deep into the forest before.”

“True. But you’ve clearly been taking the class.”

“Because they added House-elves, vampires and werewolves to the curriculum and I need the course for my apprenticeship. Though I find the distinction of ‘creatures’ insulting.”

“As do I. But they did remove vampires and werewolves from the Dark Arts classes. Baby steps, Hooper. At least they actually treat them at St. Mungo's now.”

Molly nodded, agreeing with him as she continued to think. The most likely answer was that he would need the knowledge for his future career. Surely solving crimes would involve magical creatures at some point. But if that were the case, why not just take the class? Knowing Sherlock, though, he could simply research what he needed when the time came. No, it wasn’t to do with…

“Molly,” Sherlock whispered as he moved into a clearing. “Stay here and try not to move.”

That’s when she saw it: another Thestral. Only this one was lying on its side, bleeding.

“Wiggy!” Sherlock called out. A second later, a House-elf pop into the clearing.

“Wiggy is here, Master Sherlock!”

“Go get Hagrid, the half-giant. He lives in the gamekeeper's cottage. Hurry,” he instructed the Elf then it Disapparated.

“What’s wrong with it?” Molly asked as Sherlock moved closer. And where did that Elf come from?

“I don’t know. Come closer, tell me what you think.”

Molly inched towards the injured beast. When she got close enough, she saw several deep claw marks in its side; it also clearly had a broken leg. “It’s been attacked.”

“Yes, but by what?”

Just then the Elf and half-giant reappeared in the clearing.

“What’s goin’ on, Sher… Merlin’s beard! The poor thing! Not again!” Hagrid exclaimed as he knelt next to the injured Thestral.

“What do you mean, not again?” Sherlock demanded.

“There’s somethin’ out here, Sherlock. I found a unicorn colt dead not a week ago.”

“I’m assuming it’s nothing to do with you?” the wizard asked knowingly.

“No! I swear it! I’ve not been gamblin’ in months!”

“And you told the Headmistress?”

Hagrid nodded as he gently tended to the creature.

“Will she live?” Molly asked.

“If I’m quick and I have a little help.”

“Molly…” Sherlock said, looking at her pointedly.

“I don’t know anything about healing animals!”

“I can do some of it, but my magic’s not strong enough,” Hagrid explained. “Yer takin’ Poppy’s class, aren’t ya?”

“Yes, but…”

“Come on, Miss Hooper. We’re gonna fix her right up.”

Thirty exhausting minutes later the Thestral was… better. Hagrid said she would live and that he would look after her and her foal, but Molly was worried. She expressed as much to Sherlock on the way back to the castle.

“She’ll be fine, Molly. You did well,” he said with a smile.

“I didn’t realise how cold it had gotten.” She wrapped her arms around herself.

“You used quite a bit of energy, both physical and magical. Here,” he said as he removed his cloak and put it over her shoulders.

Gathering it closer, Molly took a deep breath. Gods! It smelt of him. She had been trying to stave off her crush for weeks, to no avail. It was coming back with a vengeance. “Thanks.”

“That House-elf, who was he?” she asked a few minutes later.

“Wiggy? He’s my personal Elf. Been with me since I was a boy.”

“And you can call him, even here?”

“Yes. Though I rarely do. Time was of the essence, I’m afraid. I’m sure he appreciated it. He gets so bored at the manor.”

Molly rolled the word ‘manor’ around in her head. Her family wasn’t by any means poor, but upper middle class in the Muggle world and wealthy Pure-blood wizards were about a million miles apart.

“We, Molly Hooper, have a mystery to solve,” Sherlock said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“We?”

“Of course! You’ll make an excellent assistant!”

Molly often wondered if Snape was conducting some sort of social experiment for his own amusement with his strange match-ups. The man was brilliant, if not a bit sadistic, surely he had his reasons… right? She had heard all the tales of his exploits during the war and even if only half of them were true, the wizard must have been able to read people better than most. Why then had he paired them all off in such a manner?

Some were doing fine, of course. Sally and Philip seemed to be getting along, for the most part. Though the Hufflepuff wizard did cower from time to time under the stern glare of the witch, but their potions rarely failed. Mike and Irene, oddly enough, were getting on famously. Molly had always found her Housemate a bit shy and lacking in confidence. Since the start of term, however, he was noticeably more self-assured and had been spending an inordinate amount of time with the slutery Slytherin. Molly distantly wondered if they were brewing something other than potions in their spare time. Meena and that Dimmock bloke, who Molly barely knew, were also doing quite well. Meena mentioned that both her and Daniel’s grades had improved since they’d started working together, which was surprising. Her best friend had always disliked Potions even more than Molly.

The other three pairs, however, were having some major issues.

Jim and Mary didn’t exactly seem to be fast friends, for instance, but Mary was far too cool-natured to let the slimy Slytherin get to her. Frankly, Molly thought that the Gryffindor chaser was slowly driving Moriarty crazy with her ability to seem unaffected. He was used to getting a rise out of people. Though she wouldn’t admit it, Molly often enjoyed watching the byplay during the sometimes stressful class.

The most dangerous combination by far was John Watson and Sebastian Moran. Molly was just waiting for the day that the two would end up dueling in the middle of class. Though most of the pairings made sense, in an odd sort of way, this one was just plain scary. Moran was a loose cannon if there ever was one and John, a Gryffindor through and through, clearly had no stomach for the Slytherin’s devious ways. Professor Snape had broken up fist fights between the feuding wizards three times by the middle of November. Thankfully, no wands had been drawn… yet.

Greg usually spent most of the class period ignoring Kitty. Molly knew the Gryffindor quite well and she knew he was too much of a gentleman to tell the Hufflepuff off, but his girlfriend wasn’t. Just after the Christmas hols, Molly was witness to an entertaining confrontation between Sally and Kitty in the hallway before class.

“Oi, Kitty-Cat!” the witch called out.

Riley turned. “What do you want, Donovan?”

Sally stalked up to the ginger. “I’m going to say this slowly and use very small words so that you can follow. If you don’t get your act together and stop screwing around, I’m going to hex you purple.”

“I’m sorry?” Kitty said, planting her hands on her hips.

“You heard me. Ship up, Riley. Greg needs to do well on his N.E.W.T.s to get into the Auror programme, he can’t have you slowing him down. It may not matter to you because of your family, but it does to him. Therefore, it does to me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sally rolled her eyes. “What word tripped you up, Kitty? Was it programme? Or have you never heard of an Auror before?”

“I don’t think I like your tone, Sally!”

“I don’t like the amount of blush you wear, but that’s besides the point. Greg’s important to me and this class is important to him. He got saddled with you but he’s too nice mention that you’re a few centaurs shy of a herd.”

“What?”

“You’re knitting with only one needle, Kits,” Sally said with a smirk.

Kitty looked at Molly. “What the hell is she trying to say?”

“She’s saying that you eat soup with a fork, Kitty!” Molly replied, frustrated with the whole scene. Was she really so dumb that she didn’t know when she was being insulted? “That you’re not smart and it’s affecting Greg’s grade!”

A ripple of laughter lit through the corridor, causing Molly to look around. Most of the class was waiting to enter the room. She instantly felt horrible.

“Oh, Kitty…”

“I get it, Molly,” the Hufflepuff said. “You suddenly think you’re hot stuff because you’re working with Holmes. Doesn’t matter, you’re still just ugly, boring little Molly Hooper! One Potions lab won’t change that!” She stormed into the room, leaving Molly standing there, the rest of the students staring at her.

Molly was frozen in place, unsure of what had caused her to say something so mean-spirited to the witch. Suddenly she felt a hand on her back.

“Come on, Molly,” Sherlock said, guiding her into class.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know. Don’t worry about it. That was just the outcome Snape was looking for.”

“What?”

He winked as he moved to take his seat.

More to come! Thanks for reading! ~Lil~

[gadgets360technews]

Strictly's Invoice Bailey proclaims the demise of his rescue canine Banjar

Strictly’s Invoice Bailey proclaims the demise of his rescue canine Banjar

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‘Farewell previous pal’: Strictly’s Invoice Bailey proclaims the demise of his beloved rescue canine Banjar in heartfelt put up

By Natasha Hooper For Mailonline

Printed: 09:19 GMT, 13 November 2020 | Up to date: 09:20 GMT, 13 November 2020

Invoice Bailey introduced the demise of his beloved rescue canine, Banjar, in a heartfelt put up on Thursday.

The comic, 55, shared a…

[auteurstearoom]

Director Tobe Hooper and Producer Steven Spielberg have fun with a canine companion on the set of Poltergeist.