Title tags and description tags sound more confusing than they actually are. Remove the word tag and each term becomes much easier to understand.
Security is an important issue. Not just for your users but for you as the business owner too. Amazingly, this is one of the most common mistakes.
Load times are important for many reasons. The speed your website loads on a device is one of the indicators Google uses to rank your website. In addition, fast loading websites provide a quality user experience. The slower your website loads the more likely it is that people will leave your website. Fast websites rank better in search engines and keep people on your website.
Competition is fierce in the pet industry. You would not believe what my wife and I just received in our mailbox.
Your website should be responsive. It is really important.
What makes for a great small business website? Can we judge it purely on aesthetics? On visits? How it works on mobile? How many people comment on the blog? Or is it the number of pages on the website that is important? These are important questions. In this blog we’ll review the anatomy of a quality website.
Usually, it happens late at night. Sometimes on weekends. It rarely used to happen when your store was open. Lately, it’s happening when your doors are open.
Pet stores need to create solutions for delivering their products directly to the consumer’s doorstep. Why is this so important? Because all the major players in the pet space are doing it well. That means that if brick and mortar pet stores want to compete they need to deliver their products to customers as well.
Sunsetting a feature in technology means removing a feature. Basically, a company is no longer going to offer a feature as a part of their software system.
It’s next to Philomena, Grandma’s
About an Irish woman
teetered on three generations in
On stacks of Harlow’s Pub post cards, before memes,
We sat on foreign money, newspaper clippings, bumper
stickers, lanterns, glass buddhas and
To see street signs and shrunken heads who looked at license
plates from back when cars used to drive
To places like Brooklyn
before I knew I was a honkie or that they made Trump’s stuff
Where I learned that everyone is a crook, but really
everybody’s honest, but really everyone is wonderful and I just wanted to
insert myself here because I,
Used to believe hard work led to success but only if you try
But old photos are tacked to the same walls as obituaries,
where George bought Bill a beer and slid it to another George
right before Don dumped it on Barack,
Each lamenting the fact that
people don’t read the newspaper anymore.
Bottle cap murals, our only artwork
As we sang, “we ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no
more!” Enthusiastically and radically
Purveyors of a chant that echoes like gunshots,
We heard at concerts, ball games, elementary schools and gay
But never listened to in the desert, nor Korea.
“Ain’t gonna work in Maggie’s farm no more” we
As subprime pickpockets sneaked through the bar
And slid diplomas that
Tickled our toes and whispered words sweeter than the feel of
Minded person telling us that we are in fact justified,
To throw up signs that say “Irish Need Not Apply.”
But balcony session poets always extinguished their
cigarettes before they switched to ties and jackets.
“Say, how do ya do?” choked on the same damn whistles
and alarms that said
I don’t want to smell like smoke at the office.
Everyone is a crook, but really everybody’s honest, but
really everyone is wonderful.
Fifteen dollars an hour fell on black lives that mattered
more to white nationalists as they molested a woman who didn’t win on death
beds we couldn’t pay for because Syrians saw walls while they died in pictures
we didn’t see from Mexico.
The coal dried up in Appalachia. Sincerely, that wasn’t your
So Marx returned like a weekend at Bernies and resurrected a
1940’s perverted Nietzsche.
Berzelius Windup scoffed because 1984 distracted us while
Sinclair Lewis screamed, “It can’t happen here!”
Barley and hops soaked our veins, better than rural heroin.
We screamed into encapsulated vessels we held in our hands,
Like liquid on electronics on paper on bread on rice on snow
on sand on thread.
Until, I met Philomena.