Yay, I'm first. Someone may have to remind me next week though to post a QOW, lol. I have CRS. Anywho. My favorite pet, is .. yep you guessed it- Max. He is the first pet that I've had that requires more of a responsibility that dropping a few pellets in the water once a day, or cleaning out the saw dust stuff once a week (guinea pig). I've paid for everything he's needed. he comes to me when he needs something. he sleeps with me and brandon. We're his parents. He's the first pet I've had that has needed me this much, and I love it. He's my baby!! Plus I love all of the super cute clothes they sell for me to dress him in (too bad he isn't a girl.. there would be so many dresses!)
Pets... all the pets that my family has had have been special. There's Waggy, the untamed but loveable mutt from my early childhood. Nosey & Peter, my 1st 2 bunnies (the addition of female Blondie, an Easter bunny my dad couldn't help rescuing, spawned generations!). There's the girly cockapoo Blondie & the spunky Shepherd mix Sherlock that my parents got when I was 16 or 17. There's my special Border Collie stepdog Miles, well behaved, fun & widely loved. Rest in peace, all.
But I choose to talk about Puddin' - a beautiful, obedient & fun blond Cocker Spaniel. She was MY dog for a while & I'm so glad she was in my life. Puddin' was owned by my older sister & her 1st husband. They had a tumultuous marriage & a messy divorce. My ex-BIL was unstable & violent (eventually my sister fled the state because of him). Anyway, when they were getting divorced, taking care of Puddin' was too much for my ex-BIL, so he gave her to me. I remember him calling me crying after dropping the dog off, saying "Puddin' is your dog now." This was when I was a freshman or sophomore in H.S.
Puddin' was the best! She was so affectionate & playful! She LOVED racquetballs...I would throw one all the way from the back of the house down the foyer towards the front door, she would madly race to fetch, catch the ball & due to inertia, she'd be sliding down the tile, ball in mouth, until she'd bump into the front door! Then she'd run to me enthusiastically, fur flying everywhere, & ask me to throw again. When I'd stay up late at night watching TV in the family room, she would wait for me at the foot of the stairs, snoozing until I'd go upstairs to sleep. Then she'd wake up, follow me to my room & sleep in my bed. One time I had a particularly grueling theatre rehearsal at school. My mom had the day off so she picked me up. I was walking dejectedly to the car, looking at my mom who had this huge smile. Then, I saw Puddin' jump up & down in the car; my mom had brought her! Instantly I was overcome w/ joy - what a mood picker-upper to see my lovable, happy dog!
One day, my ex-BIL came, talked to my parents & they let him take Puddin' back! I couldn't believe it, I was so angry & resentful. I couldn't even go in the front room to see them all, I fumed at the back of the house in tears. I knew my parents kinda felt sorry for my ex-BIL, he was kind of a lost soul in a way & they were against the divorce for initially (until it was revealed what an @sshole ex-BIL really was). But when we talked about Puddin' just recently in the Philippines 11/2007, my parents also told me that they gave Puddin' back so that this dangerous, unstable dude would have less connections to us. That made more sense to me as an adult. But my sister still says that the taking away of Puddin' was one of the saddest parts of her disastrous 1st marriage.
I have so many happy memories of Puddin' & our time together. I'm so grateful to have had Puddin' in my life!
I've had all kinds of pets in my lifetime: cats, dogs, hamsters, turtles, frogs, toads, fish, sea monkeys, and a salamander. Ultimately, though, schrubby and I are cat lovers.
Almost eight years ago, during Spring Break, while schrubby was at work on a graveyard shift, I was strolling down Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley when one of the sidewalk jewelry vendors had a display that caught my eye. He had three kittens--one white, one black, and one tabby--in a carrier next to his necklace charms. The white one looked sickly with its eyes practically sealed shut with mucus, and I immediately gravitated toward the black kitty. However, as soon as I picked it up, it jumped from my grasp and back into the carrier.
Then, the very vocal tabby with huge eyes grabbed my attention, so I had to pick her up. Once I had her against my chest, she yowled and yowled, but clung fiercely to my tank top. The vendor said, "Wow, she must like you. I've never seen her like that with anyone."
We weren't allowed to have pets in our apartment, but I found myself asking, "How much?" "$20 plus a charm of your choice." I only had $10, but he took it and still gave me a charm while he pointed out her unique markings for a tabby.
Then, as I walked away, he called out, "Good luck with that one! She's a wild one!" I didn't care that I'd been had, just glad to rescue her from someone who clearly wouldn't get his cat spayed and was exploiting these little ones for a profit on his wares. I felt like I benefitted.
She continued to hold fast to me and yowl the entire walk home that I thought I'd call her Velcro. She had eyes bigger than her head with Cleopatra-like black rimmed eyeliner, so Cleo was a thought, but I already loved a Cleo once. When we got home, I fed her a can of tuna which she ate voraciously while still yowling.
She was extremely skiddish, yet talkative, and I had to tie her to a laundry basket with a blanket so that she wouldn't keep crawling under the couch (which had a clearance of almost two inches) and all the way to the back where I couldn't get to her. I tried pulling her balled up figure towards me with the hook of an umbrella, and she'd let out the most pathetic hiss, you couldn't tell she had done so without recognizing the signs in her flattened ears and bared teeth.
I called my soon-to-be schrubby and once he heard the yowl, he gasped, "What did you dooo? Oh, no, baby." I knew she would melt his heart as soon as he got home. Sure enough, he took one look at her and his face melted. He worried about her size, as she could crawl into his shoe, and scolded me and my penchant for picking runts. She was also a little sickly, which later proved to be a respiratory infection we treated. As soon as he had her in his arms, they laid on the couch together, with her on his chest, and together they just passed out.
To this day, she sleeps with us. She's still very vocal, wheezy and scares easily. Tuna remains her number one favorite food, she still loves her daddy's smelly shoes, and whenever we pull out that old sofabed, she crawls into that old hiding spot. She's spoiled and fat and very selective of the people she warms up to. She's also my first indoor kitty.
For a name, we settled on Luna, named after the moon for her many moods. Her full name is Luna T. Kitty, a play on lunatic because she's crazy. She's a Pisces with a St. Patrick's birthday. And she owns us.
As young children, my brother, sister and I did not have pets. My brother was asthmatic and allergic to all furry animals. Our first pet was a parakeet we named Peeper. We could hold it occassionally and even on dreary days Peeper would sing his happy songs. I had never realized you could love a bird. Then we had shadow, a cockapoo when my brother was older and didnt react as bad to his allergies. He was a good dog and loved all of us kids. The story Sharon told about fetching brought back the same memories with us and Shadow. Now, with my own family we have Rocko. I have to admit, i wanted a boxer and was afraid of the stories I had heard of Rottweillers. He is a rough & tough teddy bear (just like hubby). He barks and growls and scares people who dont know him. I know this dog would protect any one of us if it ever came to it. But to his family he is a gentle giant who LOVES babies. When the grandbabies come over and sit in their pumpkin seats, Rocko cant help but go steal a big lick (kiss). He wants to be where we are and often sits, all 180 lbs of him, on our feet. Or when hubby & I hug, he pushes his way between us as if to say "Don't forget me, I need hugs too!" He's a sweet, gentle, protective dog.
When I was growing up the largest pet we were allowed to have were guinea pigs. At times we had over 30 piggies running around in the backyard in homemade cages. My first real pet was a cat I got when I was in college. He came from a litter that was hanging out on an abandon couch on the side of the road (actually there were several litters with about 30 kittens to choose from). The cat I picked was a tabby and I named him Tiger Cat. For the next 18 years Tiger was always with me through boyfriends, numerous apartment moves, and a cross country trip from NY to LA. I almost lost Tiger in Las Vegas in a very busy casino parking lot. He got out of the car through an open door because we thought he was in his carrier. But because Tiger always came when I yelled for him he returned when I called his name. Because he always returned when called, Tiger had full outdoor access every place I lived. When I lived in a brownstone in the Upper Westside of Manhattan, some how that cat climbed down the bricks, surveyed his domain, and returned. When I lived on the second floor of a house Tiger would climb down off the roof just to sit under this huge evergreen tree. After I moved to Calif. he got his evergreen fix from sitting under Christmas trees. He ran around for months in my Santa Monica apartment courtyard escaping through an unused bathroom window. I had no idea he was out each day because he would be inside when I returned. It was only after several neighbors remarked about what a friendly cat he was did I put 2 and 2 together. I was 40 when he passed away. Remember I got Tiger when I was in college so my entire adult life had always included him. I was heartbroken for years and still miss him. Tiger if you can hear me in Cat heaven YOU ROCK!
5 comments:
Yay, I'm first. Someone may have to remind me next week though to post a QOW, lol. I have CRS.
Anywho. My favorite pet, is .. yep you guessed it- Max.
He is the first pet that I've had that requires more of a responsibility that dropping a few pellets in the water once a day, or cleaning out the saw dust stuff once a week (guinea pig).
I've paid for everything he's needed. he comes to me when he needs something. he sleeps with me and brandon. We're his parents. He's the first pet I've had that has needed me this much, and I love it. He's my baby!!
Plus I love all of the super cute clothes they sell for me to dress him in (too bad he isn't a girl.. there would be so many dresses!)
Pets... all the pets that my family has had have been special. There's Waggy, the untamed but loveable mutt from my early childhood. Nosey & Peter, my 1st 2 bunnies (the addition of female Blondie, an Easter bunny my dad couldn't help rescuing, spawned generations!). There's the girly cockapoo Blondie & the spunky Shepherd mix Sherlock that my parents got when I was 16 or 17. There's my special Border Collie stepdog Miles, well behaved, fun & widely loved. Rest in peace, all.
But I choose to talk about Puddin' - a beautiful, obedient & fun blond Cocker Spaniel. She was MY dog for a while & I'm so glad she was in my life. Puddin' was owned by my older sister & her 1st husband. They had a tumultuous marriage & a messy divorce. My ex-BIL was unstable & violent (eventually my sister fled the state because of him). Anyway, when they were getting divorced, taking care of Puddin' was too much for my ex-BIL, so he gave her to me. I remember him calling me crying after dropping the dog off, saying "Puddin' is your dog now." This was when I was a freshman or sophomore in H.S.
Puddin' was the best! She was so affectionate & playful! She LOVED racquetballs...I would throw one all the way from the back of the house down the foyer towards the front door, she would madly race to fetch, catch the ball & due to inertia, she'd be sliding down the tile, ball in mouth, until she'd bump into the front door! Then she'd run to me enthusiastically, fur flying everywhere, & ask me to throw again. When I'd stay up late at night watching TV in the family room, she would wait for me at the foot of the stairs, snoozing until I'd go upstairs to sleep. Then she'd wake up, follow me to my room & sleep in my bed. One time I had a particularly grueling theatre rehearsal at school. My mom had the day off so she picked me up. I was walking dejectedly to the car, looking at my mom who had this huge smile. Then, I saw Puddin' jump up & down in the car; my mom had brought her! Instantly I was overcome w/ joy - what a mood picker-upper to see my lovable, happy dog!
One day, my ex-BIL came, talked to my parents & they let him take Puddin' back! I couldn't believe it, I was so angry & resentful. I couldn't even go in the front room to see them all, I fumed at the back of the house in tears. I knew my parents kinda felt sorry for my ex-BIL, he was kind of a lost soul in a way & they were against the divorce for initially (until it was revealed what an @sshole ex-BIL really was). But when we talked about Puddin' just recently in the Philippines 11/2007, my parents also told me that they gave Puddin' back so that this dangerous, unstable dude would have less connections to us. That made more sense to me as an adult. But my sister still says that the taking away of Puddin' was one of the saddest parts of her disastrous 1st marriage.
I have so many happy memories of Puddin' & our time together. I'm so grateful to have had Puddin' in my life!
I've had all kinds of pets in my lifetime: cats, dogs, hamsters, turtles, frogs, toads, fish, sea monkeys, and a salamander. Ultimately, though, schrubby and I are cat lovers.
Almost eight years ago, during Spring Break, while schrubby was at work on a graveyard shift, I was strolling down Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley when one of the sidewalk jewelry vendors had a display that caught my eye. He had three kittens--one white, one black, and one tabby--in a carrier next to his necklace charms. The white one looked sickly with its eyes practically sealed shut with mucus, and I immediately gravitated toward the black kitty. However, as soon as I picked it up, it jumped from my grasp and back into the carrier.
Then, the very vocal tabby with huge eyes grabbed my attention, so I had to pick her up. Once I had her against my chest, she yowled and yowled, but clung fiercely to my tank top. The vendor said, "Wow, she must like you. I've never seen her like that with anyone."
We weren't allowed to have pets in our apartment, but I found myself asking, "How much?" "$20 plus a charm of your choice." I only had $10, but he took it and still gave me a charm while he pointed out her unique markings for a tabby.
Then, as I walked away, he called out, "Good luck with that one! She's a wild one!" I didn't care that I'd been had, just glad to rescue her from someone who clearly wouldn't get his cat spayed and was exploiting these little ones for a profit on his wares. I felt like I benefitted.
She continued to hold fast to me and yowl the entire walk home that I thought I'd call her Velcro. She had eyes bigger than her head with Cleopatra-like black rimmed eyeliner, so Cleo was a thought, but I already loved a Cleo once. When we got home, I fed her a can of tuna which she ate voraciously while still yowling.
She was extremely skiddish, yet talkative, and I had to tie her to a laundry basket with a blanket so that she wouldn't keep crawling under the couch (which had a clearance of almost two inches) and all the way to the back where I couldn't get to her. I tried pulling her balled up figure towards me with the hook of an umbrella, and she'd let out the most pathetic hiss, you couldn't tell she had done so without recognizing the signs in her flattened ears and bared teeth.
I called my soon-to-be schrubby and once he heard the yowl, he gasped, "What did you dooo? Oh, no, baby." I knew she would melt his heart as soon as he got home. Sure enough, he took one look at her and his face melted. He worried about her size, as she could crawl into his shoe, and scolded me and my penchant for picking runts. She was also a little sickly, which later proved to be a respiratory infection we treated. As soon as he had her in his arms, they laid on the couch together, with her on his chest, and together they just passed out.
To this day, she sleeps with us. She's still very vocal, wheezy and scares easily. Tuna remains her number one favorite food, she still loves her daddy's smelly shoes, and whenever we pull out that old sofabed, she crawls into that old hiding spot. She's spoiled and fat and very selective of the people she warms up to. She's also my first indoor kitty.
For a name, we settled on Luna, named after the moon for her many moods. Her full name is Luna T. Kitty, a play on lunatic because she's crazy. She's a Pisces with a St. Patrick's birthday. And she owns us.
As young children, my brother, sister and I did not have pets. My brother was asthmatic and allergic to all furry animals. Our first pet was a parakeet we named Peeper. We could hold it occassionally and even on dreary days Peeper would sing his happy songs. I had never realized you could love a bird.
Then we had shadow, a cockapoo when my brother was older and didnt react as bad to his allergies. He was a good dog and loved all of us kids. The story Sharon told about fetching brought back the same memories with us and Shadow.
Now, with my own family we have Rocko. I have to admit, i wanted a boxer and was afraid of the stories I had heard of Rottweillers. He is a rough & tough teddy bear (just like hubby).
He barks and growls and scares people who dont know him. I know this dog would protect any one of us if it ever came to it. But to his family he is a gentle giant who LOVES babies. When the grandbabies come over and sit in their pumpkin seats, Rocko cant help but go steal a big lick (kiss). He wants to be where we are and often sits, all 180 lbs of him, on our feet. Or when hubby & I hug, he pushes his way between us as if to say "Don't forget me, I need hugs too!" He's a sweet, gentle, protective dog.
When I was growing up the largest pet we were allowed to have were guinea pigs. At times we had over 30 piggies running around in the backyard in homemade cages. My first real pet was a cat I got when I was in college. He came from a litter that was hanging out on an abandon couch on the side of the road (actually there were several litters with about 30 kittens to choose from). The cat I picked was a tabby and I named him Tiger Cat. For the next 18 years Tiger was always with me through boyfriends, numerous apartment moves, and a cross country trip from NY to LA. I almost lost Tiger in Las Vegas in a very busy casino parking lot. He got out of the car through an open door because we thought he was in his carrier. But because Tiger always came when I yelled for him he returned when I called his name. Because he always returned when called, Tiger had full outdoor access every place I lived. When I lived in a brownstone in the Upper Westside of Manhattan, some how that cat climbed down the bricks, surveyed his domain, and returned. When I lived on the second floor of a house Tiger would climb down off the roof just to sit under this huge evergreen tree. After I moved to Calif. he got his evergreen fix from sitting under Christmas trees. He ran around for months in my Santa Monica apartment courtyard escaping through an unused bathroom window. I had no idea he was out each day because he would be inside when I returned. It was only after several neighbors remarked about what a friendly cat he was did I put 2 and 2 together. I was 40 when he passed away. Remember I got Tiger when I was in college so my entire adult life had always included him. I was heartbroken for years and still miss him. Tiger if you can hear me in Cat heaven YOU ROCK!
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