Mental Meanderings

Pets

I was raised in a family with a lot of kids. We had a lovely silky terrier called Candy. She was a beautiful, loving little dog. My mother got her when she was a puppy shortly after my brothers birth. She lived for sixteen years with is fairly long for a dog of her breed and by that time she was riddled with cancer and arthritis. Mum bought another dog, a miniture poodle we called Fizzgig (after the fluff of fur in Dark Crystal). Fizzgig had an aggressive temperament and would frequently bite, snap, snarl and be generally unfriendly. Eventually Fizzgig bit a visitor to our home, a young boy who has since then been terrified of dogs. Anyway, that bite was the last straw, my mother took both dogs to the vet and returned with their dead bodies. We were heartbroken at the loss, with my adult mind I know that while it would have been a hard choice what my mother did was the right one. Candy was suffering every day with agony holding on to life because she felt we needed her too. Fizzgig was the sort of dog who could really hurt someone and nothing we did ever settled him down. But it was sad, my sister never forgave my mother for it although we don't talk about it these days.

Later, when I had just started high school and we'd made a fairly big move for a child my age to handle, Mum bought a new dogs. A beautiful little puppy, all white and soft, a maltese cross poodle. We called him Toby (after the little boy in Labyrinth) I have a wonderful memory of the day she got him. She picked my up from highschool with him in the car. He slept on my lap on the way home. He was a little timid and a little sad having just been separated from his brothers and sisters and I remember patting his beautiful soft fur. He peed on me but I didn't mind at all. Toby is still around now actually, bigger, fatter, and no where near as soft and cute.

When I first met my ex he had two big dogs, Whuppie was a black bitch, cross breed but part german shepard. She adored Paul and was so loyal and loving to him. She didn't much like anyone else however but she did come to accept me. Brownie was beautiful. He was the dumbest thing I've ever known but he was so innocent and trusting and while he shed, constantly, he always had a lovely thick brown coat. Both had been giving the run of the house before I moved in and the house showed it. Walls had scratches all through them where Whuppie had been grooming her nails, dog hair and slopper covered all the carpet, furniture, the bed. The laundry was covered in dog hair, the washing machine, anyway it was disgusting. The dogs hit the backyard the day I moved in. We got them a large kennel to share and they were no long allowed inside (I bet Paul brought them in when I wasn't home but that's beside the point.)

Eventually we moved house. I adopted a stray pure black cat who was pregnant. She had her litter of kittens in our built in robe. She remained a stray for the most part, would let me feed her, groom her, and let me take care of her while she had her kittens but never really became part of our household. We gave away the kittens all but one, a delightful little grey bundle I called Smokey. Smokey was wonderful, he was full of energy and unlike most cats, totally adored me. He would sit on my lap or my shoulder. I loved him.

We moved house again when I was six months pregnant and had just bought our own home. (The house I still live in.) Smokey ventured outside one day while Paul and I were out and Brownie and Whuppie killed him. Played with him more than anything, we came home and after searching the house for Smokey found his torn and broken little body outside. Thoughts of my little baby in the same condition kept me awake for nights after that and I insisted that the dogs much go. Paul took them to the pound and we assume that they were put down when no one took them in after a week. I feel sad that had to be the outcome but I couldn't risk our child or anyone elses for that matter, the dogs had killed and it was only a matter of time before they would again. So petless for a time until six weeks after Kaylie was born when my grandmother gave us a financial boon and I fell in love with a puppy in the pet shop. He had been born three days after Kaylie and I couldn't resist him. Bought him, took him home. We called him Puppy, really showing my creativity. Oh, I just know I'm going to post a picture of Puppy here now.

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Paul never took to Puppy but I love him. He can be a trouble maker but he's so adorable. I finally got him desexed but he had already procreated with a dog who lives down the street. Puppy is an escape artist. Somehow he always finds a way out. We think we've blocked up his latest route and he's yet to find another but prior to that he'd get out all the time. The neighbours bitch miscarried recently so he won't be a father. It's a shame but apparently it's not uncommon for a first litter.

Anyway, those are the dogs in my life. All beautiful animals. I love all animals. I also have a Fish that Kaylie gave me for my first Mother's Day. It's name is Fish. And a bird, pure white budgie called Gypsy. My mother still has two adult budgies, they had a hatchling together when I was 11, two albino budgies which we trained, the babies have since died but the two adults are still alive, very old, and probably won't have too much longer to live but they still love each other so much and sometimes when one is particularly poorly the other sits with it. I think their love for each other gets them through.