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Caring for a Three Legged Dog or Cat

Tripawds is the place to learn how to care for a three legged dog or cat, with answers about dog leg amputation, and cat amputation recovery from many years of member experiences.
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Posting Problems-Vanishing Posts. Anyone else?
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Las Vegas, Nevada
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25 March 2011 - 12:05 am
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OK. You had us confused for a minute… thought you were saying you figured it out

HAHAHAHAHA!  I bet you thought I was rude too! 

Her Retired AvatarComet - 1999 to 2011

She departed us unexpectedly  January 23, 2011 at the age of 12 1/2.

She was born with a deformed front leg and a tripawd all of her life.

On The Road


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25 March 2011 - 4:42 pm
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cometdog said:

I bet you thought I was rude too! 

whatever Not at all... I thought you said nude!

Tripawds Founders Jim and Rene
tripawds.com | tripawds.org | bemoredog.net | triday.pet

Las Vegas, Nevada
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25 March 2011 - 10:47 pm
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And here I thought you said "the tinyMice are nude dudes!"

Her Retired AvatarComet - 1999 to 2011

She departed us unexpectedly  January 23, 2011 at the age of 12 1/2.

She was born with a deformed front leg and a tripawd all of her life.


Member Since:
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29 March 2011 - 10:56 am
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I seem to have a problem with length of posts.  I can get very short ones to go through most of the time but not the long ones.

Pam

On The Road


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29 March 2011 - 12:32 pm
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Interesting, thanks for the input. And again, we apologize for the inconvenience, but we really can't do anything to help without more detail, specifically:

  • what web browser you use
  • exact time of unsaved post
  • name of forum and topic, or link to last post in topic
  • any errors? (in screen or in browser status bar)
  • number of users online at the time
  • number of users browsing topic at the time
  • ip address at time of issue

Please see the possible remedies suggested in recent previous posts within this topic. For now, using Firefox is the only known fix.

Tripawds Founders Jim and Rene
tripawds.com | tripawds.org | bemoredog.net | triday.pet

Las Vegas, Nevada
Member Since:
14 August 2009
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29 March 2011 - 3:39 pm
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I did switch to the "html" like you suggested.  I didn't have any problems but it was so yucky that I switched back and decided I do the Copy and Paste. 

Keeping it short and to the point does tend to not vanish.  But I'll copy this just to make sure!

Her Retired AvatarComet - 1999 to 2011

She departed us unexpectedly  January 23, 2011 at the age of 12 1/2.

She was born with a deformed front leg and a tripawd all of her life.

On The Road


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29 March 2011 - 4:12 pm
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cometdog said:

I did switch to the "html" like you suggested.  I didn't have any problems...

So, assuming you're still using Internet Exploder, posts do not save when using the TinyMCE editor, but save consistently using the HTML editor, as yucky as it may seem. Thanks for the info! Have you tried any other editors?

Keeping it short and to the point does tend to not vanish...

 

Let's see if Firefox has any issue with long posts, courtesy James Joyce:

FINNEGANS WAKE

Book I, chapter 1

riverrun,past Eve and Adam's, from swerveof shore to bendof bay, brings us by a commodiusvicus of recirculationback toHowth Castle and Environs.    SirTristram, violerd'amores, fr'over theshortsea, had passen-core rearrived from North Armoricaon this side the scraggyisthmus of Europe Minor towielderfighthis penisolate war: norhad topsawyer'srocks bythe stream Oconee exaggeratedthemselseto Laurens County's gorgioswhile they went doublin their mumperall the time: nor avoice from afire bellowsed mishe mishe totauftauf thuartpeatrick: not yet, though venissoonafter, had akidscad buttendeda bland old isaac:not yet, though all's fair invanessy, were sosie sestherswrothwith twone nathandjoe. Rotapeck of pa's malthad Jhemor Shen brewed byarclightand roryend to the regginbrow was tobe seen ringsome on the aquaface.    The fall (bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonner-ronntuonnthunntrovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthur-nuk!) of a once wallstrait oldparr is retaled early in bed and lateron life down through all christian minstrelsy.The great fall of theoffwall entailed at suchshortnotice the pftjschute of Finnegan,erse solid man, that the humptyhillheadof humself prumptly sendsan unquiring one well tothe west in quest of his tumptytumtoes:and their upturnpikepointandplaceis at the knock out in the parkwhere oranges have been laid to rustupon the green since dev-linsfirst loved livvy.

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What clashes here of wills gen wonts, oystrygods gaggin fishy- gods! Brékkek Kékkek Kékkek Kékkek! Kóax Kóax Kóax! Ualu Ualu Ualu! Quaouauh! Where the Baddelaries partisans are still out to mathmaster Malachus Micgranes and the Verdons cata- pelting the camibalistics out of the Whoyteboyce of Hoodie  Head. Assiegates and boomeringstroms. Sod's brood, be me fear! Sanglorians, save! Arms apeal with larms, appalling. Killykill- killy: a toll, a toll. What chance cuddleys, what cashels aired  and ventilated! What bidimetoloves sinduced by what tegotetab- solvers! What true feeling for their's hayair with what strawng  voice of false jiccup! O here here how hoth sprowled met the duskt the father of fornicationists but, (O my shining stars and body!) how hath fanespanned most high heaven the skysign of soft advertisement! But was iz? Iseut? Ere were sewers? The oaks of ald now they lie in peat yet elms leap where askes lay. Phall if you but will, rise you must: and none so soon either shall the pharce for the nunce come to a setdown secular phoenish.     Bygmester Finnegan, of the Stuttering Hand, freemen's mau- rer, lived in the broadest way immarginable in his rushlit toofar- back for messuages before joshuan judges had given us numbers or Helviticus committed deuteronomy (one yeastyday he sternely  struxk his tete in a tub for to watsch the future of his fates but ere he swiftly stook it out again, by the might of moses, the very wat- er was eviparated and all the guenneses had met their exodus so that ought to show you what a pentschanjeuchy chap he was!) and during mighty odd years this man of hod, cement and edi- fices in Toper's Thorp piled buildung supra buildung pon the banks for the livers by the Soangso. He addle liddle phifie Annie ugged the little craythur. Wither hayre in honds tuck up your part inher. Oftwhile balbulous, mithre ahead, with goodly trowel in grasp and ivoroiled overalls which he habitacularly fondseed, like Haroun Childeric Eggeberth he would caligulate by multiplicab- les the alltitude and malltitude until he seesaw by neatlight of the liquor wheretwin 'twas born, his roundhead staple of other days to rise in undress maisonry upstanded (joygrantit!), a waalworth  of a skyerscape of most eyeful hoyth entowerly, erigenating from

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next to nothing and celescalating the himals and all, hierarchitec- titiptitoploftical, with a burning bush abob off its baubletop and with larrons o'toolers clittering up and tombles a'buckets clotter- ing down.     Of the first was he to bare arms and a name: Wassaily Boos- laeugh of Riesengeborg. His crest of huroldry, in vert with ancillars, troublant, argent, a hegoak, poursuivant, horrid, horned. His scutschum fessed, with archers strung, helio, of the second. Hootch is for husbandman handling his hoe. Hohohoho, Mister Finn, you're going to be Mister Finnagain! Comeday morm and, O, you're vine! Sendday's eve and, ah, you're vinegar! Hahahaha, Mister Funn, you're going to be fined again!     What then agentlike brought about that tragoady thundersday this municipal sin business? Our cubehouse still rocks as earwitness  to the thunder of his arafatas but we hear also through successive ages that shebby choruysh of unkalified muzzlenimiissilehims that would blackguardise the whitestone ever hurtleturtled out of heaven. Stay us wherefore in our search for tighteousness, O Sus- tainer, what time we rise and when we take up to toothmick and before we lump down upown our leatherbed and in the night and at the fading of the stars! For a nod to the nabir is better than wink to the wabsanti. Otherways wesways like that provost scoffing  bedoueen the jebel and the jpysian sea. Cropherb the crunch- bracken shall decide. Then we'll know if the feast is a flyday. She has a gift of seek on site and she allcasually ansars helpers, the dreamydeary. Heed! Heed! It may half been a missfired brick, as some say, or it mought have been due to a collupsus of his back promises, as others looked at it. (There extand by now one thou- sand and one stories, all told, of the same). But so sore did abe  ite ivvy's holired abbles, (what with the wallhall's horrors of rolls- rights, carhacks, stonengens, kisstvanes, tramtrees, fargobawlers, autokinotons, hippohobbilies, streetfleets, tournintaxes, mega- phoggs, circuses and wardsmoats and basilikerks and aeropagods  and the hoyse and the jollybrool and the peeler in the coat and the mecklenburk bitch bite at his ear and the merlinburrow bur- rocks and his fore old porecourts, the bore the more, and his

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blightblack workingstacks at twelvepins a dozen and the noobi- busses sleighding along Safetyfirst Street and the derryjellybies snooping around Tell-No-Tailors' Corner and the fumes and the hopes and the strupithump of his ville's indigenous romekeepers, homesweepers, domecreepers, thurum and thurum in fancymud murumd and all the uproor from all the aufroofs, a roof for may  and a reef for hugh butt under his bridge suits tony) wan warn- ing Phill filt tippling full. His howd feeled heavy, his hoddit did shake. (There was a wall of course in erection) Dimb! He stot- tered from the latter. Damb! he was dud. Dumb! Mastabatoom, mastabadtomm, when a mon merries his lute is all long. For whole the world to see.     Shize? I should shee! Macool, Macool, orra whyi deed ye diie? of a trying thirstay mournin? Sobs they sighdid at Fillagain's chrissormiss wake, all the hoolivans of the nation, prostrated in their consternation and their duodisimally profusive plethora of ululation. There was plumbs and grumes and cheriffs and citherers  and raiders and cinemen too. And the all gianed in with the shout- most shoviality. Agog and magog and the round of them agrog. To the continuation of that celebration until Hanandhunigan's extermination! Some in kinkin corass, more, kankan keening. Belling him up and filling him down. He's stiff but he's steady is Priam Olim! 'Twas he was the dacent gaylabouring youth. Sharpen  his pillowscone, tap up his bier! E'erawhere in this whorl would ye hear sich a din again? With their deepbrow fundigs and the dusty  fidelios. They laid him brawdawn alanglast bed. With a bockalips  of finisky fore his feet. And a barrowload of guenesis hoer his head. Tee the tootal of the fluid hang the twoddle of the fuddled, O!     Hurrah, there is but young gleve for the owl globe wheels in view which is tautaulogically the same thing. Well, Him a being so on the flounder of his bulk like an overgrown babeling, let wee peep, see, at Hom, well, see peegee ought he ought, platterplate. Hum! From Shopalist to Bailywick or from ashtun to baronoath or from Buythebanks to Roundthehead or from the foot of the bill to ireglint's eye he calmly extensolies. And all the way (a horn!) from fiord to fjell his baywinds' oboboes shall wail him

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rockbound (hoahoahoah!) in swimswamswum and all the livvy- long night, the delldale dalppling night, the night of bluerybells, her flittaflute in tricky trochees (O carina! O carina!) wake him. With her issavan essavans and her patterjackmartins about all them inns and ouses. Tilling a teel of a tum, telling a toll of a tea- ry turty Taubling. Grace before Glutton. For what we are, gifs  a gross if we are, about to believe. So pool the begg and pass the kish for crawsake. Omen. So sigh us. Grampupus is fallen down but grinny sprids the boord. Whase on the joint of a desh? Fin- foefom the Fush. Whase be his baken head? A loaf of Singpan- try's Kennedy bread. And whase hitched to the hop in his tayle? A glass of Danu U'Dunnell's foamous olde Dobbelin ayle. But, lo, as you would quaffoff his fraudstuff and sink teeth through that pyth of a flowerwhite bodey behold of him as behemoth for he is noewhemoe. Finiche! Only a fadograph of a yestern scene. Almost rubicund Salmosalar, ancient fromout the ages of the Ag- apemonides, he is smoltenin our mist, woebecanned and packt away. So that meal's dead off for summan, schlook, schlice and goodridhirring.     Yet may we not see still the brontoichthyan form outlined a- slumbered, even in our own nighttime by the sedge of the trout- ling stream that Bronto loved and Brunto has a lean on. Hiccubat  edilis. Apud libertinam parvulam. Whatif she be in flags or flitters, reekierags or sundyechosies, with a mint of mines or beggar a pinnyweight. Arrah, sure, we all love little Anny Ruiny, or, we mean to say, lovelittle Anna Rayiny, when unda her brella, mid piddle med puddle, she ninnygoes nannygoes nancing by. Yoh! Brontolone slaaps, yoh snoores. Upon Benn Heather, in Seeple Isout too. The cranic head on him, caster of his reasons, peer yu- thner in yondmist. Whooth? His clay feet, swarded in verdigrass, stick up starck where he last fellonem, by the mund of the maga- zine wall, where our maggy seen all, with her sisterin shawl. While over against this belles' alliance beyind Ill Sixty, ollol- lowed ill! bagsides of the fort, bom, tarabom, tarabom, lurk the ombushes, the site of the lyffing-in-wait of the upjock and hock- ums. Hence when the clouds roll by, jamey, a proudseye view is

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enjoyable of our mounding's mass, now Wallinstone national museum, with, in some greenish distance, the charmful water- loose country and the two quitewhite villagettes who hear show of themselves so gigglesomes minxt the follyages, the prettilees! Penetrators are permitted into the museomound free. Welsh and the Paddy Patkinses, one shelenk! Redismembers invalids of old guard find poussepousse pousseypram to sate the sort of their butt. For her passkey supply to the janitrix, the mistress Kathe. Tip.     This the way to the museyroom. Mind your hats goan in! Now yiz are in the Willingdone Museyroom. This is a Prooshi- ous gunn. This is a ffrinch. Tip. This is the flag of the Prooshi- ous, the Cap and Soracer. This is the bullet that byng the flag of the Prooshious. This is the ffrinch that fire on the Bull that bang the flag of the Prooshious. Saloos the Crossgunn! Up with your pike and fork! Tip. (Bullsfoot! Fine!) This is the triplewon hat of Lipoleum. Tip. Lipoleumhat. This is the Willingdone on his same white harse, the Cokenhape. This is the big Sraughter Wil- lingdone, grand and magentic in his goldtin spurs and his ironed dux and his quarterbrass woodyshoes and his magnate's gharters  and his bangkok's best and goliar's goloshes and his pullupon- easyan wartrews. This is his big wide harse. Tip. This is the three lipoleum boyne grouching down in the living detch. This is an inimyskilling inglis, this is a scotcher grey, this is a davy, stoop- ing. This is the bog lipoleum mordering the lipoleum beg. A Gallawghurs argaumunt. This is the petty lipoleum boy that was nayther bag nor bug. Assaye, assaye! Touchole Fitz Tuo- mush. Dirty MacDyke. And Hairy O'Hurry. All of them arminus-varminus. This is Delian alps. This is Mont Tivel, this is Mont Tipsey, this is the Grand Mons Injun. This is the crimealine of the alps hooping to sheltershock the three lipoleums. This is the jinnies with their legahorns feinting to read in their handmade's book of stralegy while making their war undisides the Willingdone. The jinnies is a cooin her hand and the jinnies is a ravin her hair and the Willingdone git the band up. This is big Willingdone mormorial tallowscoop Wounderworker obscides on the flanks of the jinnies. Sexcaliber hrosspower. Tip. This

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is me Belchum sneaking his phillippy out of his most Awful Grimmest Sunshat Cromwelly. Looted. This is the jinnies' hast- ings dispatch for to irrigate the Willingdone. Dispatch in thin red lines cross the shortfront of me Belchum. Yaw, yaw, yaw! Leaper Orthor. Fear siecken! Fieldgaze thy tiny frow. Hugact- ing. Nap. That was the tictacs of the jinnies for to fontannoy the Willingdone. Shee, shee, shee! The jinnies is jillous agincourting all the lipoleums. And the lipoleums is gonn boycottoncrezy onto the one Willingdone. And the Willingdone git the band up. This is bode Belchum, bonnet to busby, breaking his secred word with a ball up his ear to the Willingdone. This is the Willingdone's hur- old dispitchback. Dispitch desployed on the regions rare of me Belchum. Salamangra! Ayi, ayi, ayi! Cherry jinnies. Figtreeyou! Damn fairy ann, Voutre. Willingdone. That was the first joke of Willingdone, tic for tac. Hee, hee, hee! This is me Belchum in his twelvemile cowchooks, weet, tweet and stampforth foremost, footing the camp for the jinnies. Drink a sip, drankasup, for he's as sooner buy a guinness than he'd stale store stout. This is Roo- shious balls. This is a ttrinch. This is mistletropes. This is Canon Futter with the popynose. After his hundred days' indulgence. This is the blessed. Tarra's widdars! This is jinnies in the bonny  bawn blooches. This is lipoleums in the rowdy howses. This is the Willingdone, by the splinters of Cork, order fire. Tonnerre! (Bullsear! Play!) This is camelry, this is floodens, this is the solphereens in action, this is their mobbily, this is panickburns. Almeidagad! Arthiz too loose! This is Willingdone cry. Brum! Brum! Cumbrum! This is jinnies cry. Underwetter! Goat strip Finnlambs! This is jinnies rinning away to their ouster- lists dowan a bunkersheels. With a nip nippy nip and a trip trip- py trip so airy. For their heart's right there. Tip. This is me Bel- chum's tinkyou tankyou silvoor plate for citchin the crapes in the cool of his canister. Poor the pay! This is the bissmark of the marathon merry of the jinnies they left behind them. This is the Willingdone branlish his same marmorial tallowscoop Sophy- Key-Po for his royal divorsion on the rinnaway jinnies. Gam- bariste della porca! Dalaveras fimmieras! This is the pettiest

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of the lipoleums, Toffeethief, that spy on the Willingdone from his big white harse, the Capeinhope. Stonewall Willingdone is an old maxy montrumeny. Lipoleums is nice hung bushel- lors. This is hiena hinnessy laughing alout at the Willing- done. This is lipsyg dooley krieging the funk from the hinnessy. This is the hinndoo Shimar Shin between the dooley boy and the hinnessy. Tip. This is the wixy old Willingdone picket up the half of the threefoiled hat of lipoleums fromoud of the bluddle filth. This is the hinndoo waxing ranjymad for a bombshoob. This is the Willingdone hanking the half of the hat of lipoleums up the tail on the buckside of his big white harse. Tip. That was the last joke of Willingdone. Hit, hit, hit! This is the same white harse of the Willingdone, Culpenhelp, waggling his tailoscrupp with the half of a hat of lipoleums to insoult on the hinndoo see- boy. Hney, hney, hney! (Bullsrag! Foul!) This is the seeboy, madrashattaras, upjump and pumpim, cry to the Willingdone: Ap Pukkaru! Pukka Yurap! This is the Willingdone, bornstable ghentleman, tinders his maxbotch to the cursigan Shimar Shin. Basucker youstead! This is the dooforhim seeboy blow the whole of the half of the hat of lipoleums off of the top of the tail on the back of his big wide harse. Tip (Bullseye! Game!) How Copen- hagen ended. This way the museyroom. Mind your boots goan out.     Phew!     What a warm time we were in there but how keling is here the airabouts! We nowhere she lives but you mussna tell annaone for the lamp of Jig-a-Lanthern! It's a candlelittle houthse of a month and one windies. Downadown, High Downadown. And num- mered quaintlymine. And such reasonable weather too! The wa- grant wind's awalt'zaround the piltdowns and on every blasted knollyrock (if you can spot fifty I spy four more) there's that gnarlybird ygathering, a runalittle, doalittle, preealittle, pouralittle, wipealittle, kicksalittle, severalittle, eatalittle, whinealittle, kenalittle, helfalittle, pelfalittle gnarlybird. A verytableland of bleakbardfields! Under his seven wrothschields lies one, Lumproar. His glav toside him. Skud ontorsed. Our pigeons pair are flewn for northcliffs.

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The three of crows have flapped it southenly, kraaking of de baccle to the kvarters of that sky whence triboos answer; Wail, 'tis well! She niver comes out when Thon's on shower or when Thon's flash with his Nixy girls or when Thon's blowing toom- cracks down the gaels of Thon. No nubo no! Neblas on you liv! Her would be too moochy afreet. Of Burymeleg and Bindme- rollingeyes and all the deed in the woe. Fe fo fom! She jist does hopes till byes will be byes. Here, and it goes on to appear now, she comes, a peacefugle, a parody's bird, a peri potmother, a pringlpik in the ilandiskippy, with peewee and powwows in beggybaggy on her bickybacky and a flick flask fleckflinging its pixylighting pacts' huemeramybows, picking here, pecking there, pussypussy plunderpussy. But it's the armitides toonigh, militopucos, and toomourn we wish for a muddy kissmans to the minutia workers and there's to be a gorgeups truce for happinest childher everwere. Come nebo me and suso sing the day we sallybright. She's burrowed the coacher's headlight the better to pry (who goes cute goes siocur and shoos aroun) and all spoiled goods go into her nabsack: curtrages and rattlin buttins, nappy spattees and flasks of all nations, clavicures and scampulars, maps, keys and woodpiles of haypennies and moonled brooches with bloodstaned breeks in em, boaston nightgarters and masses of shoesets and nickelly nacks and foder allmicheal and a lugly parson of cates and howitzer muchears and midgers and maggets, ills and ells with loffs of toffs and pleures of bells and the last sigh that come fro the hart (bucklied!) and the fairest sin the sunsaw (that's cearc!). With Kiss. Kiss Criss. Cross Criss. Kiss Cross. Undo lives 'end. Slain.     How bootifull and how truetowife of her, when strengly fore- bidden, to steal our historic presents from the past postpropheti- cals so as to will make us all lordyheirs and ladymaidesses of a pretty nice kettle of fruit. She is livving in our midst of debt and laffing through all plores for us (her birth is uncontrollable), with a naperon for her mask and her sabboes kickin arias (so sair! so solly!) if yous ask me and I saack you. Hou! Hou! Gricks may rise and Troysirs fall (there being two sights for ever a picture)

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for in the byways of high improvidence that's what makes life- work leaving and the world's a cell for citters to cit in. Let young wimman run away with the story and let young min talk smooth behind the butteler's back. She knows her knight's duty while Luntum sleeps. Did ye save any tin? says he. Did I what? with a grin says she. And we all like a marriedann because she is mer- cenary. Though the length of the land lies under liquidation (floote!) and there's nare a hairbrow nor an eyebush on this glau- brous phace of Herrschuft Whatarwelter she'll loan a vesta and hire some peat and sarch the shores her cockles to heat and she'll do all a turfwoman can to piff the business on. Paff. To puff the blaziness on. Poffpoff. And even if Humpty shell fall frumpty times as awkward again in the beardsboosoloom of all our grand remonstrancers there'll be iggs for the brekkers come to mourn- him, sunny side up with care. So true is it that therewhere's a turnover the tay is wet too and when you think you ketch sight of a hind make sure but you're cocked by a hin.     Then as she is on her behaviourite job of quainance bandy, fruting for firstlings and taking her tithe, we may take our review of the two mounds to see nothing of the himples here as at else- where, by sixes and sevens, like so many heegills and collines, sitton aroont, scentbreeched ant somepotreek, in their swisha- wish satins and their taffetaffe tights, playing Wharton's Folly, at a treepurty on the planko in the purk. Stand up, mickos! Make strake for minnas! By order, Nicholas Proud. We may see and hear nothing if we choose of the shortlegged bergins off Corkhill or the bergamoors of Arbourhill or the bergagambols of Summerhill or the bergincellies of Miseryhill or the country- bossed bergones of Constitutionhill though every crowd has its several tones and every trade has its clever mechanics and each harmonical has a point of its own, Olaf's on the rise and Ivor's on the lift and Sitric's place's between them. But all they are all there scraping along to sneeze out a likelihood that will solve and salve life's robulous rebus, hopping round his middle like kippers on a griddle, O, as he lays dormont from the macroborg of Holdhard to the microbirg of Pied de Poudre. Behove this

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sound of Irish sense. Really? Here English might be seen. Royally? One sovereign punned to petery pence. Regally? The silence speaks the scene. Fake!     So This Is Dyoublong?     Hush! Caution! Echoland!     How charmingly exquisite! It reminds you of the outwashed  engravure that we used to be blurring on the blotchwall of his innkempt house. Used they? (I am sure that tiring chabelshovel- ler with the mujikal chocolat box, Miry Mitchel, is listening) I say, the remains of the outworn gravemure where used to be blurried the Ptollmens of the Incabus. Used we? (He is only pre- tendant to be stugging at the jubalee harp from a second existed lishener, Fiery Farrelly.) It is well known. Lokk for himself and see the old butte new. Dbln. W. K. O. O. Hear? By the mauso- lime wall. Fimfim fimfim. With a grand funferall. Fumfum fum- fum. 'Tis optophone which ontophanes. List! Wheatstone's magic lyer. They will be tuggling foriver. They will be lichening for allof. They will be pretumbling forover. The harpsdischord shall be theirs for ollaves.     Four things therefore, saith our herodotary Mammon Lujius  in his grand old historiorum, wrote near Boriorum, bluest book in baile's annals, f. t. in Dyffinarsky ne'er sall fail tilheathersmoke and cloudweed Eire's ile sall pall. And here now they are, the fear of um. T. Totities! Unum. (Adar.) A bulbenboss surmounted up- on an alderman. Ay, ay! Duum. (Nizam.) A shoe on a puir old wobban. Ah, ho! Triom. (Tamuz.) An auburn mayde, o'brine a'bride, to be desarted. Adear, adear! Quodlibus. (Marchessvan.) A penn no weightier nor a polepost. And so. And all. (Succoth.)     So, how idlers' wind turning pages on pages, as innocens with anaclete play popeye antipop, the leaves of the living in the boke of the deeds, annals of themselves timing the cycles of events grand and national, bring fassilwise to pass how.     1132 A.D. Men like to ants or emmets wondern upon a groot  hwide Whallfisk which lay in a Runnel. Blubby wares upat Ub- lanium.     566 A.D. On Baalfire's night of this year after deluge a crone that

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hadde a wickered Kish for to hale dead turves from the bog look- it under the blay of her Kish as she ran for to sothisfeige her cow- rieosity and be me sawl but she found hersell sackvulle of swart goody quickenshoon and small illigant brogues, so rich in sweat. Blurry works at Hurdlesford.                                              (Silent.)     566 A.D. At this time it fell out that a brazenlockt damsel grieved  (sobralasolas!) because that Puppette her minion was ravisht of her by the ogre Puropeus Pious. Bloody wars in Ballyaughacleeagh- bally.     1132. A.D. Two sons at an hour were born until a goodman  and his hag. These sons called themselves Caddy and Primas. Primas was a santryman and drilled all decent people. Caddy went to Winehouse and wrote o peace a farce. Blotty words for Dublin.     Somewhere, parently, in the ginnandgo gap between antedilu- vious and annadominant the copyist must have fled with his scroll. The billy flood rose or an elk charged him or the sultrup worldwright from the excelsissimost empyrean (bolt, in sum) earthspake or the Dannamen gallous banged pan the bliddy du- ran. A scribicide then and there is led off under old's code with some fine covered by six marks or ninepins in metalmen for the sake of his labour's dross while it will be only now and again in our rear of o'er era, as an upshoot of military and civil engage- ments, that a gynecure was let on to the scuffold for taking that same fine sum covertly by meddlement with the drawers of his neighbour's safe.     Now after all that farfatch'd and peragrine or dingnant or clere  lift we our ears, eyes of the darkness, from the tome of Liber Li- vidus and, (toh!), how paisibly eirenical, all dimmering dunes and gloamering glades, selfstretches afore us our fredeland's plain! Lean neath stone pine the pastor lies with his crook; young pric- ket by pricket's sister nibbleth on returned viridities; amaid her rocking grasses the herb trinity shams lowliness; skyup is of ever- grey. Thus, too, for donkey's years. Since the bouts of Hebear and Hairyman the cornflowers have been staying at Ballymun,

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the duskrose has choosed out Goatstown's hedges, twolips have pressed togatherthem by sweet Rush, townland of twinedlights, the whitethorn and the redthorn have fairygeyed the mayvalleys of Knockmaroon, and, though for rings round them, during a chiliad of perihelygangs, the Formoreans have brittled the too- ath of the Danes and the Oxman has been pestered by the Fire- bugs and the Joynts have thrown up jerrybuilding to the Kevan- ses and Little on the Green is childsfather to the City (Year! Year! And laughtears!), these paxsealing buttonholes have quad- rilled across the centuries and whiff now whafft to us, fresh and made-of-all-smiles as, on the eve of Killallwho.     The babbelers with their thangas vain have been (confusium hold them!) they were and went; thigging thugs were and hou- hnhymn songtoms were and comely norgels were and pollyfool fiansees. Menn have thawed, clerks have surssurhummed, the blond has sought of the brune: Elsekiss thou may, mean Kerry piggy?: and the duncledames have countered with the hellish fel- lows: Who ails tongue coddeau, aspace of dumbillsilly? And they fell upong one another: and themselves they have fallen. And still nowanights and by nights of yore do all bold floras of the field to their shyfaun lovers say only: Cull me ere I wilt to thee!: and, but a little later: Pluck me whilst I blush! Well may they wilt, marry, and profusedly blush, be troth! For that saying is as old as the howitts. Lave a whale a while in a whillbarrow (isn't it the truath I'm tallin ye?) to have fins and flippers that shimmy and shake. Tim Timmycan timped hir, tampting Tam. Fleppety! Flippety! Fleapow!     Hop!     In the name of Anem this carl on the kopje in pelted thongs a parth a lone who the joebiggar be he? Forshapen his pigmaid hoagshead, shroonk his plodsfoot. He hath locktoes, this short- shins, and, Obeold that's pectoral, his mammamuscles most mousterious. It is slaking nuncheon out of some thing's brain pan. Me seemeth a dragon man. He is almonthst on the kiep fief by here, is Comestipple Sacksoun, be it junipery or febrew- ery, marracks or alebrill or the ramping riots of pouriose and

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froriose. What a quhare soort of a mahan. It is evident the mich- indaddy. Lets we overstep his fire defences and these kraals of slitsucked marrogbones. (Cave!) He can prapsposterus the pil- lory way to Hirculos pillar. Come on, fool porterfull, hosiered women blown monk sewer? Scuse us, chorley guy! You toller- day donsk? N. You tolkatiff scowegian? Nn. You spigotty an- glease? Nnn. You phonio saxo? Nnnn. Clear all so! 'Tis a Jute. Let us swop hats and excheck a few strong verbs weak oach ea- ther yapyazzard abast the blooty creeks.     Jute.       Yutah!     Mutt.      Mukk's pleasurad.    Jute.       Are you jeff?     Mutt.      Somehards.    Jute.       But you are not jeffmute?     Mutt.      Noho. Only an utterer.    Jute.       Whoa? Whoat is the mutter with you?     Mutt.      I became a stun a stummer.     Jute.       What a hauhauhauhaudibble thing, to be cause! How,                   Mutt?     Mutt.      Aput the buttle, surd.    Jute.       Whose poddle? Wherein?     Mutt.      The Inns of Dungtarf where Used awe to be he.     Jute.       You that side your voise are almost inedible to me.                   Become a bitskin more wiseable, as if I were                   you.     Mutt.      Has? Has at? Hasatency? Urp, Boohooru! Booru                   Usurp! I trumple from rath in mine mines when I                   rimimirim!     Jute.       One eyegonblack. Bisons is bisons. Let me fore all                   your hasitancy cross your qualm with trink gilt. Here                   have sylvan coyne, a piece of oak. Ghinees hies good                   for you.     Mutt.      Louee, louee! How wooden I not know it, the intel-                   lible greytcloak of Cedric Silkyshag! Cead mealy                    faulty rices for one dabblin bar. Old grilsy growlsy!                   He was poached on in that eggtentical spot. Here

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where the liveries, Monomark. There where the mis-                   sers moony, Minnikin passe.    Jute.       Simply because as Taciturn pretells, our wrongstory-                   shortener, he dumptied the wholeborrow of rubba-                   ges on to soil here.     Mutt.      Just how a puddinstone inat the brookcells by a                   riverpool.    Jute.       Load Allmarshy! Wid wad for a norse like?     Mutt.      Somular with a bull on a clompturf. Rooks roarum                   rex roome! I could snore to him of the spumy horn,                   with his woolseley side in, by the neck I am sutton                   on, did Brian d' of Linn.     Jute.       Boildoyle and rawhoney on me when I can beuraly                   forsstand a weird from sturk to finnic in such a pat-                   what as your rutterdamrotter. Onheard of and um-                   scene! Gut aftermeal! See you doomed.     Mutt.      Quite agreem. Bussave a sec. Walk a dunblink                    roundward this albutisle and you skull see how olde                    ye plaine of my Elters, hunfree and ours, where wone                    to wail whimbrel to peewee o'er the saltings, where                   wilby citie by law of isthmon, where by a droit of                   signory, icefloe was from his Inn the Byggning to                   whose Finishthere Punct. Let erehim ruhmuhrmuhr.                   Mearmerge two races, swete and brack. Morthering                    rue. Hither, craching eastuards, they are in surgence:                   hence, cool at ebb, they requiesce. Countlessness of                   livestories have netherfallen by this plage, flick as                   flowflakes, litters from aloft, like a waast wizzard all of                    whirlworlds. Now are all tombed to the mound, isges                    to isges, erde from erde. Pride, O pride, thy prize!     Jute.       'Stench!     Mutt.      Fiatfuit! Hereinunder lyethey. Llarge by the smal an'                   everynight life olso th'estrange, babylone the great-                   grandhotelled with tit tit tittlehouse, alp on earwig,                   drukn on ild, likeas equal to anequal in this sound                   seemetery which iz leebez luv.

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Jute.       'Zmorde!     Mutt.      Meldundleize! By the fearse wave behoughted. Des-                   pond's sung. And thanacestross mound have swollup                    them all. This ourth of years is not save brickdust                    and being humus the same roturns. He who runes                    may rede it on all fours. O'c'stle, n'wc'stle, tr'c'stle,                   crumbling! Sell me sooth the fare for Humblin! Hum-                   blady Fair. But speak it allsosiftly, moulder! Be in                   your whisht!     Jute.       Whysht?     Mutt.      The gyant Forficules with Amni the fay.     Jute.       Howe?     Mutt.      Here is viceking's graab.     Jute.       Hwaad!     Mutt.      Ore you astoneaged, jute you?     Jute.       Oye am thonthorstrok, thing mud.     (Stoop) if you are abcedminded, to this claybook, what curios  of signs (please stoop), in this allaphbed! Can you rede (since We and Thou had it out already) its world? It is the same told of all. Many. Miscegenations on miscegenations. Tieckle. They lived und laughed ant loved end left. Forsin. Thy thingdome is given to the Meades and Porsons. The meandertale, aloss and again, of our old Heidenburgh in the days when Head-in-Clouds walked the earth. In the ignorance that implies impression that knits knowledge that finds the nameform that whets the wits that convey contacts that sweeten sensation that drives desire that adheres to attachment that dogs death that bitches birth that en- tails the ensuance of existentiality. But with a rush out of his navel reaching the reredos of Ramasbatham. A terricolous vively- onview this; queer and it continues to be quaky. A hatch, a celt, an earshare the pourquose of which was to cassay the earthcrust at all of hours, furrowards, bagawards, like yoxen at the turnpaht. Here say figurines billycoose arming and mounting. Mounting and arming bellicose figurines see here. Futhorc, this liffle effingee is for a firefing called a flintforfall. Face at the eased! O I fay! Face at the waist! Ho, you fie! Upwap and dump em, ace to ace! When a

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part so ptee does duty for the holos we soon grow to use of an allforabit. Here (please to stoop) are selveran cued peteet peas of quite a pecuniar interest inaslittle as they are the pellets that make the tomtummy's pay roll. Right rank ragnar rocks and with these rox orangotangos rangled rough and rightgorong. Wisha, wisha, whydidtha? Thik is for thorn that's thuck in its thoil like thum- fool's thraitor thrust for vengeance. What a mnice old mness it all mnakes! A middenhide hoard of objects! Olives, beets, kim- mells, dollies, alfrids, beatties, cormacks and daltons. Owlets' eegs (O stoop to please!) are here, creakish from age and all now quite epsilene, and oldwolldy wobblewers, haudworth a wipe o grass. Sss! See the snake wurrums everyside! Our durlbin is sworming in sneaks. They came to our island from triangular Toucheaterre beyond the wet prairie rared up in the midst of the cargon of prohibitive pomefructs but along landed Paddy Wip- pingham and the his garbagecans cotched the creeps of them pricker than our whosethere outofman could quick up her whats- thats. Somedivide and sumthelot but the tally turns round the same balifuson. Racketeers and bottloggers.     Axe on thwacks on thracks, axenwise. One by one place one be three dittoh and one before. Two nursus one make a plaus- ible free and idim behind. Starting off with a big boaboa and three- legged calvers and ivargraine jadesses with a message in their mouths. And a hundreadfilled unleavenweight of liberorumqueue to con an we can till allhorrors eve. What a meanderthalltale to unfurl and with what an end in view of squattor and anntisquattor and postproneauntisquattor! To say too us to be every tim, nick and larry of us, sons of the sod, sons, littlesons, yea and lealittle- sons, when usses not to be, every sue, siss and sally of us, dugters of Nan! Accusative ahnsire! Damadam to infinities!     True there was in nillohs dieybos as yet no lumpend papeer in the waste, and mightmountain Penn still groaned for the micies to let flee. All was of ancientry. You gave me a boot (signs on it!) and I ate the

Tripawds Founders Jim and Rene
tripawds.com | tripawds.org | bemoredog.net | triday.pet

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29 March 2011 - 5:20 pm
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Something else to try for moderators using IE who are having trouble with posts always saving: Try turning off the Admin Queue from your User Profile -> Forum Admin options.

Tripawds Founders Jim and Rene
tripawds.com | tripawds.org | bemoredog.net | triday.pet

littlemanjake
84
29 March 2011 - 5:30 pm
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I don't think it's the length of the post, but the time...copying & pasting a long post isn't a problem as long as you use Ctrl-v & don't try to right click the paste. If it takes too long to compose it, you're often out of luck if it isn't copied.

On The Road


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29 March 2011 - 5:42 pm
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Good feedback, but the fact of the matter remains that the issue cannot be replicated when using Firefox.

Tripawds Founders Jim and Rene
tripawds.com | tripawds.org | bemoredog.net | triday.pet

littlemanjake
86
29 March 2011 - 5:56 pm
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I was just providing information for anyone who hasn't figured out how to work around it yet…It's easier to work with it, than get frustrated everytime it doesn't work....like with the long PM I just lostsad

Chicago, IL
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29 March 2011 - 6:35 pm
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I'm with Jake, work around it.  I just type in my post and copy it (right click) and then if it doesn't post, I can paste it right back in.  I know these things are hard to replicate and frustrating for admins so I'll try to pay more attention.  The one thing I did notice is that an admin was posting to the same forum at the same time as me.  That was only once, and it's only happened to me maybe twice.

http://tate.tripawds.com/
August 16, 2006 to November 28, 2011
TATE ~ Forever in our hearts.

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29 March 2011 - 6:57 pm
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All this information is helpful. Thank you. We're only suggesting the use of Firefox for those who would rather not work around the frustration.

Tripawds Founders Jim and Rene
tripawds.com | tripawds.org | bemoredog.net | triday.pet

Las Vegas, Nevada
Member Since:
14 August 2009
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29 March 2011 - 7:16 pm
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Just a suggestion admin...

Try opentracker.net for stats.  They ahve a 4 week free trial.  It will give you every bit of info you need and every tiny, in realtime move we make on tripawds.com.

It will tell you our screen resolution, our operating system, our IP, our city and state location as well.  You can follow it and trace our moves.  That may give you a pattern.

Just a suggestion.

Her Retired AvatarComet - 1999 to 2011

She departed us unexpectedly  January 23, 2011 at the age of 12 1/2.

She was born with a deformed front leg and a tripawd all of her life.

Monkeybutt-Bunny Vampire
90
30 March 2011 - 12:05 pm
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It's happening all the time to monkeydogs too!  But we can outsmart you and use the copy/paste ! 

 

And the reason we don't switch to Fire and foxes is because we are in the majority! And we are cool that way!

IE about 68% Safari about 24% Firefox about 8%

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