💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜

💐🌹🌷🌸🌼Enjoy taking very amateur pictures with my phone as a hobby. .I try to see the beauty in everything. All photos are mine unless otherwise stated.🌺

[💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜 @spikee663]

@Paws_tweet Beautiful!

[💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜 @spikee663]

@VeronicaJoPo A magnificent place!!!❤️

[𝕐o̴g̴ @Yoda4ever]

Seven dogs stolen from their owners have gone viral after escaping from an illegal transport truck and making their way home.

They traveled around 17 km together, led by a corgi across highways and fields, now safely back with their respective owners..🐶🐾🥺❤️

[Sheila of the Most High @sheilatebra]

Anonymous

Bought a jacket at Goodwill last Saturday. Ten bucks. Leather. Looked barely worn. Figured it was a steal.
Got home and checked the pockets before washing it. You know, making sure there's nothing in there. Found a folded piece of paper in the inside pocket.
It was a letter. Handwritten. Started with "To whoever finds this." I sat down on my couch and read the whole thing.
It was from a guy named Tom. The letter said he was donating all his clothes because he was moving into a care facility. Alzheimer's. Early onset. He was only 54. The letter talked about how this jacket was his favorite. How he wore it on his first date with his wife. How he wore it the day his daughter was born. How he wore it to his dad's funeral.
At the end, he wrote: "If you're reading this, you're wearing my memories now. Take care of them. Live a good life in this jacket. Make it mean something again. -Tom, March 2024"
I just sat there holding this letter from a stranger who gave me his memories because he knew he was going to forget them.
The letter had his wife's name. Linda. And a phone number. "In case someone wants to know the stories."
I debated for two days whether to call. Felt weird. Intrusive. But something told me I should.
I called. A woman answered.
"Hi, is this Linda?"
"Yes, who's this?"
"You don't know me. But I bought a leather jacket from Goodwill last week. Your husband Tom left a letter in the pocket."
Silence. Then I heard her crying.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you"
"No. No, you don't understand. Tom passed away three weeks ago. I donated his clothes last month. I didn't know he left letters. He left you a letter?"
I read it to her over the phone. Every word. When I finished, she was quiet for a long time.
"That's so Tom. Even at the end, even knowing what was coming, he was still thinking about other people. Still trying to make someone smile."
She asked if she could see the jacket. I drove to her house that afternoon. Brought the jacket and the letter.
She held it. Smelled it. Started telling me the stories. The first date. The day at the hospital. The funeral. All of it. We sat in her living room for three hours while she told me about a man I never met.
Before I left, she hugged me. "Thank you for calling. Tom would've loved knowing someone cared enough to find out the stories. Wear it. Live in it. Make new memories. That's what he wanted."
I'm wearing the jacket right now. It fits perfectly. And every time I put it on, I think about Tom. About Linda. About how a ten-dollar Goodwill jacket became the most meaningful thing I own.
Because last month, a man dying of Alzheimer's decided his memories deserved to find someone who'd care. 🤍

[💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜 @spikee663]

@Paws_tweet By the sounds of it, you are on the right track. Good luck.

[💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜 @spikee663]

@babybeginner They work very well to keep the smell down and work well with clumping litter.

[💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜 @spikee663]

@Paws_tweet 2.
I had to push for them, but I finally got them back into play again. I hope you can get somewhere with what you are trying to achieve in regards to your pain. Only we know our bodies and what we can handle. Best of luck. ❤️x

[💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜 @spikee663]

@Paws_tweet I'm so sorry that that has happened to you today! I know how frustrating that is. We just need to keep advocating for ourselves when this happens!
I am going to Toronto next week for my second set of RFA ablation& ep. Blocks. The 1st set was this wk.

[💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜 @spikee663]

@Paws_tweet I am doing so much better, thank you. Life is pretty good, other than my pain, but I can live with that. X

[💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜 @spikee663]

@Paws_tweet That has to be the most perfect rainbow I have seen in a photo or in real time! So flawless! I hope you are well my friend. 🌈❤️

[Dweller @One_Way_Home]

Just remember, their entire life is time with us.

[Tweets of Dogs @TweeetsOfDogs]

At 2:28 a.m., on an icy Manitoba road, a surveillance camera captured a scene straight out of a movie… but it was all too real. 💔 A dog had been motionless for over four hours.

He wasn't running.

He wasn't calling for help.

He wasn't fleeing the potentially fatal cold.
Cars drove by. Headlights blinded him. Horns blared.

But he didn't take a step.
When the officers arrived, they expected to find an animal paralyzed by fear.
What they discovered shattered their sleep.
Beneath his body, hidden in the snow, was a tiny puppy. Freezing. Barely breathing.
The adult dog was using his own body heat to keep him alive.
He didn't bark.
He didn't attack.
He didn't move.
He became a shield.

He became a shield. Shelter.
Home.
It is said that when the rescuers first placed the puppy in the ambulance, the big dog didn't jump in behind. He stayed and watched.

He waited.
Only when he saw the little one safe… did he agree to get in as well.

They survived.

And that night left a lesson that no human being should ever forget:
Loyalty doesn't always shout.
Sometimes, it remains still… even if staying might cost it its life.

Because true love isn't an emotion.
It's a decision.

And this dog decided not to leave.🐾❤️

[💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜 @spikee663]

@VeronicaJoPo Stunning!❤️

[💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜 @spikee663]

@Paws_tweet That looks so yummy!!❤️

[Vincent The Therapist @mrhighfoster]

🕊️ She was 35 years old when she filmed Home Alone

She held dual Canadian & American citizenship

Had a rare condition called situs inversus (organs mirrored)

She had two sons, Matthew and Luke

Both of her sons, Matthew and Luke, pursued careers in film set related works and even worked with her on Schitt’s Creek.

Actively avoided turning her children into industry kids

Described motherhood as the only role she never wanted to improvise.

Stayed married to one partner for over three decades without public drama.

Rarely spoke about religion publicly despite Catholic upbringing.

Her younger sister, Mary Margaret O’Hara, is a respected musician and actress in Canada.

Worked as a waitress before joining the cast.

She played Kevin’s mom in Home Alone without ever being on set with the burglars as many scenes were shot separately.

Despite global fame, she’s known in Hollywood for being extremely private and avoids celebrity culture.
.
.

Catherine O'Hara has been a joy to behold and she will forever be a role model to both the older generations and to our kids who will watch Home Alone every holiday 🤍

Thank you very much Catherine. We will remember you and keep your memories fresh and evergreen in our hearts 🩶🤍

[Craig Baird - Canadian History Ehx @CraigBaird]

John Candy and Catherine O'Hara both made the world a better place.

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

"Someone kept calling the radio station requesting the same song. For 114 days straight.
I'm a DJ at K-Rock 98.3. Overnight shift. Midnight to 6 a.m. Mostly lonely truckers and insomniacs listening.
Around 1:15 a.m. every single night, same number calls. Same request, "November Rain" by Guns N' Roses. Eight-minute guitar solo version.

First week, I played it. Thought maybe someone really loved that song.
Second week, I started screening the calls. "We just played that yesterday, how about something else?"
"November Rain, please."
"We have a no-repeat policy"
Click. They'd hang up.

But they'd call back the next night. 1:15 a.m. exactly. "November Rain."
This went on for months. My coworkers thought it was hilarious. Started a betting pool on when the caller would give up.
They never did.

Day 47, "Look, buddy, what's the deal with this song?"
Long silence. Then, "Just play it. Please."
The voice sounded older. Male. Tired.
I played it.

Day 82, My manager told me to block the number. "It's harassment."
I didn't block it.

Day 91, I answered. Before they could speak, I said, "It's queued up. Playing at 1:30."
"Thank you," they whispered.

Day 114, The call came. But different voice. Younger. Female.
"This is about the November Rain requests," she said. "My grandfather passed away this morning. He won't be calling anymore."
My stomach dropped.
"He had dementia," she continued. "Couldn't remember much. But he remembered that song. Said it was playing when he proposed to my grandmother in 1992. At some restaurant. She died five years ago. The song was the only piece of her he could still hold onto."
She was crying. "He'd get confused at night. Agitated. The only thing that calmed him was that song. So I'd call you. Every night. He'd sit next to me, listening on the radio, and for eight minutes he'd remember her. He'd smile. Then forget again. But for those eight minutes....."
I couldn't speak.
"Thank you for playing it," she said. "Even when you were annoyed. Even when your manager wanted you to stop. Those eight minutes were everything to him."
She hung up.

I sat in that booth. Played "November Rain" at 1:15 a.m. Nobody requested it. I just played it.
Did it again the next night.
And every night since.

Some listeners complained. "Why do you keep playing the same song?"
I never explained. Just said, "Station policy."

But truckers started calling in. Said they pulled over during that 1:15 a.m. slot. Listened to the whole eight minutes. Some knew why. Most didn't.

One guy said, "I don't even like that song. But something about hearing it at 1:15 every night..... feels like church. Like we're all stopping together. For something."
They were right.

It's been six months. I still play it. Every single night. 1:15 a.m.
Some things aren't about what you like. They're about what someone needed. Once. When nothing else worked.

That song's not mine anymore. It belongs to an old man who forgot everything except how to love his wife.
And now it belongs to everyone driving lonely highways at 1:15 a.m., looking for a reason to keep going.
Eight minutes. Every night.
That's my church now."

Let this story reach more hearts....
.
Ai image is for demonstration purpose only.
.
By Mary Nelson

[Sassafrass84 @Sassafrass_84]

I have no words. 🤣🤣🤣

[We don't deserve cats 😺 @catsareblessing]

4 signs your cat is living their best life.

[💜🌷🌳Spike663🇨🇦🇬🇧🌷🌳💜 @spikee663]

Happy New Year! May 2026 be filled with everything you have ever hoped for!