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Friday, December 03, 2004

Theme week 14

PETS

I am the great pet loser. I have had five rabbits, two ducks, one gerbil, two hamsters, two abortive attempts at dog ownership, and six fish. They all died of natural but extremely unusual circumstances, save the dogs and ducks which may still be alive for all I know. If there was a little pet graveyard for the ones I’ve lost, it would be a little square of grass with tiny rounded headstones.

Here lies Shera, a good rabbit who liked to be hooked to a leash and play with basketballs. Died 1987 of old age.

Here lies Jenny, a rabbit who thought she was a cat and would only eat cat food. She used a litter box. Killed in a fight with Digger 1989.

Here lies Digger, the wild rabbit the neighbors all got together to catch and put in our rabbit pen when we were on vacation in Disney. (they thought jenny had gotten out) Killed in a fight with Jenny 1989.

Here lies Wesley and Buttercup, both female rabbits but my brother really wanted a boy one. May you be rest in peace. Died after an attack by a red-eyed, black vampire cat, 1991.

Here lies Crystal and Teddy, a worthy hamster and gerbil pair. You came together and didn’t last long when the other died. 1991.

Here lies Alex, the hamster who went into spontaneous hibernation for three weeks and we almost buried you alive. 1994.

Here lay my fish, none of you survived a week once we got you home, after two attempts, mom said no more fish.

For those who have no headstone, a little memorial would be set up, cause hey, they’re bound to die sometime before I do.

For Silsby the mutt-mix puppy, my first attempt at dog-owning. You were terribly abused when you came to us, and hated men. You ended up biting my brother in the eye when he tried to take a slice of pizza away from you. I hope you found a good home.

For Pepe the pedigree Toy Poodle, you were a good if incredibly stupid dog. You escaped the house through a bathroom window and kept the neighbors terrified and stuck in their house for five hours until we got home. I hope you found a good home.

For Thing One and Thing Two, or The Boys, my mallard ducks. I’m glad you learned to fly, even though Thing Two flew away. The homeless man at the 7-11 found you after you’d had your bill run over. He happened to show you to my cousins, who showed their father, who bought you from the homeless man and brought you home. After a vet visit and several weeks of recovery, we found a nice man with a country house and female ducks for you to go live with.

It was not then, overly surprising that several years went by in which we had no pets at the house. Finally, when we moved to the house on Kenduskeag Ave, mom started looking for puppies again. Eventually we ended up with Tika, who has been the family pet now for seven years.

6 Comments:

Blogger johngoldfine said...

Hey, we had a no-paers toy poodle named Pepe! He was a bit of a handful, but if it was the same Pepe, let me assure you he had a grand life, eating, sleeping, going for walks, and being extremely full of himself. Never any trouble. I'm trying to remember where my missus rescued him from.... One of her clients, not very smart, was convinced he was an emissary of the devil and had him pretty much confined to under-the-couch. She beat him with a plastic beach shovel whenever he showed his face. Jean convinced her that she'd be doing a wonderful favor to her to sell Pepe so that...um, he could be a companion to her sick mother-in-law, or some such jive.

These are great mini-anecdotes, with just the right mix of rue, remembered sadness, and humor.

December 4, 2004 at 11:00 AM  
Blogger Erika Lynne said...

my Pepe was dumb as rocks, poor baby. He tried hard. He loved to play fetch, but if the ball came in contact with something (like the garage wall) it never occured to him to stop or even slow down. Full steam ahead directly into the wall, then he'd bounce off, roll a few feet, stagger upwards and look around for the ball. I think he was a little brain-damaged... at the house we rescued him from (somewhere in sangerville... shudder) the parents were sitting there calmly as their 1 year old dipped Pepe's food into his water dish and ate it. He was a good baby but the neighbors threatened to press charges to make him be put down if we didn't put him up for adoption. They were not dog people.

December 4, 2004 at 2:13 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

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November 4, 2005 at 2:40 AM  
Blogger Maya said...

Wow! What an entertaining piece!

September 9, 2006 at 5:57 AM  
Blogger Maya said...

As I answered the knock at the door,jagged rain bit my face,the wind tore at my stubbly robe and I curled my toes for warmth. My husband stood on the steps of the trailer with a body wrapped in a blanket. Horror movies flashed through my corrupt mind. I pictured him digging a hole in the backyard.
He entered grunting from the weight of his luggage. I shivered as he smiled and unrolled Odie. Odie was an old, overweight springerspanial,beagle mix. He had melting,chocolate eyes filled with sadness.He stood stil,his tail wagging half-heartedly,as I stooped to pet him,a plume of dust rising from his coat.
I turned to my husband with a questioning look.
He said"I could not leave him at the shelter. He is old and they were going to kill him."
This presented a problem because the trailer park we lived in did not allow dogs.
How would he go the bathroom? We couldn't let him out!
I found out soon enough that he was to be lifted out the back window where behind the hedge was a large field to run in.(not that Odie ever ran) He slouched and moved reluctantly along. Thank goodness he did not have the energy to bark. He stayed with us for about a month of lifting in and out the window. Then after much complaining from me, my husband gave him to his parents who spoiled Odie until the day he died.

September 9, 2006 at 6:23 AM  
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