
People are holding a dog owner accountable who left their pet alone right before Hurricane Milton made landfall. An officer responds to a distress call regarding a dog that is tied to a fence near I-75 in a widely shared video that was made public by the Florida Highway Patrol on October 8. In the video, the dog is seen standing in water up to its legs while the officer approaches with caution.
The video shows the kind officer telling the terrified dog, “It’s okay.” The dog starts off growling and barking, but the officer handles it calmly and says, “I don’t blame you,” understanding the animal’s apprehension. It’s alright. “FHP Troopers rescued a dog left tied to a pole on I-75 near Bruce B Downs Blvd this morning,” the Florida Highway Patrol Tampa later tweeted. Please, don’t do this to your dogs.

“The dog rescued by @FHPTampa is safe and receiving care,” the Florida Department of Highway Safety and Motor Vehicles announced after verifying the canine’s rescue a few hours later. After being examined by a veterinarian, the dog was given the all-clear. The idea to name the rescued dog “Trooper” in honor of the police officers who saved it has been floated around social media.
There has been a great deal of public outcry over the abandonment, with many people advocating for legal action against the owner and expressing disgust at their behavior. Among the remarks were, “This is absurd.” “Those who harm children and pets are the lowest in society and need to be dealt with accordingly,” and “The owner needs to face legal consequences.”

Regarding whether the dog’s owner has returned it, there have been varying accounts; however, the Florida Department of Highway Safety and Motor Vehicles has verified that these reports are untrue. “The dog was rescued and taken to a vet where he received a clean bill of health,” the spokesperson claimed. Right now, he is secure and receiving attention.
This incident emphasizes the importance of careful pet management, particularly in dangerous situations like hurricanes, as well as the necessity of providing immediate care for animals during catastrophes.
My Stepdaughter Insisted I Reassign All Her Deceased Father’s Possessions into Her Name – I Complied, Yet She Was Unpleased

The emptiness of George’s departure permeates their residence, his presence enduring in the shirt Mariana grips nightly. However, it wasn’t his passing that devastated her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s insistence on inheriting his wealth. When she reluctantly agreed, an unexpected twist left Susan enraged and Mariana strangely content.
Progressing past the death of a dear one is always challenging. At times, I still sense my husband George’s voice echoing in my mind. I awaken holding his cherished shirt, his fragrance still clinging to the material. Yet, as I mourned him, my stepdaughter’s actions… they utterly broke me…
I am Mariana, aged 57, wed to the kindest man, George, for 25 years. He had a daughter, Susan, aged 34, from an earlier marriage.
Our bond with Susan was once good. She addressed me as “Mom” and filled the gap in my heart from not bearing my own children. I never viewed her as “another’s” child. I cherished her as my own daughter, truly.
When Susan wed her chosen partner, George and I were thrilled. But then, everything deteriorated when George received a terminal cancer diagnosis.
Susan’s visits reduced from weekly to monthly, then ceased entirely. She seldom visited her father, occasionally phoning to inquire about his health.
One day, she posed a question that tore me apart. “How long does he have left?”
Clutching the phone tightly, my voice shook. “Susan, your father isn’t an item with an expiration date.”

“I just need to know, Mom. I’m swamped, you know that… I can’t come by often,” she responded.
“Swamped?” I repeated, my tone filled with disbelief. “Too swamped to visit your dying father?”
She exhaled deeply. “Look, I’ll attempt to come soon, okay?”
But that “soon” never materialized.
Then, the dreaded day arrived. The hospital informed me that George had passed away peacefully.
I was devastated, barely able to stand as the reality sank in. My beloved George, gone.
Shockingly, Susan didn’t attend his funeral. When I called her, she promptly excused herself.
“I’m expecting, Mom,” she stated, her tone strangely indifferent. “The doctors advised against lengthy travel due to some medical concerns.”
I swallowed hard, holding back tears. “But Susan, it’s your father’s funeral. Don’t you wish to bid him farewell one last time?”
“I can’t jeopardize my baby’s health,” she curtly replied. “You understand, right?”
I didn’t, not truly, but I nodded silently, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Of course, dear. Take care.”
As I sat near my husband’s coffin, I couldn’t dismiss the notion that our relationship had irrevocably changed.
Six months post-George’s death, I was startled by a loud knock at my door. Opening it, I saw Susan and her husband Doug, along with a severe-looking man in a suit.
Susan entered without greeting. “Mom, we need your signature on some documents.”
Baffled, I blinked. “Which documents?”
Doug handed me a stack of papers, including a blank sheet. “Just sign these. They’re for transferring all the properties into our names.”
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