Thursday, June 29, 2006

Part 3: Almost the present

The saga brings us almost where we are now -- when Bek moved into my house and my heart.

Bek, which stands for blue-eyed kitty, was a bundle of black and white fur who loved climbing underneath my wheels. Unfortunately, that led to being run over many times, including his entire body once. I still feel guilty about that.
Despite all, he grew up to be a 12 lb, 3 1/2 foot long sweetie who loves to snuggle and nuzzle his parents, particularly his dad, whom he prefers to mom. I'm back up if he's in need of some affection.

When Bek moved in, Tequila didn't take near a liking to him as Bek did Tequila. Bek would lie on the kitchen floor, roll over on his back and wait for Tequila, taking full advantage of Bek's total openness. Then Tequila would skitter across the floor, bite Bek's ear than run squawking for his mother. Smart bird. Not too smart cat. With one swipe of his paw, Tequila could have been a snack. Instead, he'd just lie there and wait for more. He really wanted to snuggle the bird and clean his feathers for him, but Tequila wanted none of it.

When Bek and I prepared to moved Texas in 2002, we had to find another home for Tequila. Last I heard, Tequila was quite happy with his new owner and family, who have given him run of the house. Tequila also gets to eat off everyone's dinner plate and enjoys all the freedom he wants to fly around the house. What more could a bird ask for?

At the end of August, I sold my house. It was a bittersweet moment, looking back. I'd achieved a lot living on my own. Took a long look at the house before leaving, sighed, then opened a fresh new book for the next half of my story.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

Freitag by Foo. You're it!

I was tagged by Foo. Since we have the same friends, I guess I'll be duplicating, eh? I'll also be trying my best, since I don't know everyone THAT well.

Here are the instructions:
1. Choose a search engine (e.g. Google).
2. Pick 5 random blogfriends.
3. Think of a word or phrase that describes each friend (or use their blog name).
4. Do an image search of that word or phrase.

Click on the name to see the image, and how I see everyone. You're all great! I love reading your posts on Foo's blog. Keep'em coming!

Foo
Tink
Anne
Susie
Emma

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Part Deux: The story continues...

When we moved back to St Louis, it was into a 3-bedroom ranch in the 'burbs. It had a pool (above ground with a deck) and a big back yard. Otherwise, it was your typical home. As time moved on and I got older, I developed allergies, which gave my parents a reason NOT to let me have more pets. I'm sure they were elated.

I guess after much nagging on my part, I talked them into a hamster (or 2 or 3). I loved how they packed their little cheeks with seeds, making them twice their size, then carried them into their "bedroom" where they pushed them out. They are soft and fuzzy and have cute little stubby tails. Although small, I loved to rub them against my face, which gave me a bad case of ringworm once, much to my mother's dismay. I thought nothing of it. She totally lost it!

After sending 3 Petie's over the "Rainbow Bridge" to hamsterland, I progressed to birds. Parakeets to begin with. There were 3 of these too. Two Pete's and one Crackers. (Are you seeing a pattern?) Crackers died tragically in my hands after falling off his perch. They say that happens when they lose their balance. All I remember is calling my mother at work crying into the phone, and her trying to console me.


I went through college pet-free then moved to North Carolina. Living all alone, I bought Indiana Jones. He was a beautiful sky blue & white parakeet. He was a mean little cuss, but I loved to listen to him chirp away. He traveled back to St Louis with me, moving from my parents house, 3 different apartments and finally into my first house. What a trouper!

Not long after settling in, I got him a companion -- Jimmy Buffett. Well, Jimmy turned out to be a girl Jimmie, who just wanted her way with Indy, and he wanted no part of her. So off she went to live with a man who fell in love with her. Next, I adopted Whitey Herzog, named in memory of my grandmother (an avid Cardinal baseball fan). Whitey was older and simply wanted company, so he and Indy got along splendidly -- my two little old men. What characters! They'd sit, chatter, nap and chirp all day long. After a long 10 years, Indy developed cancer and had to be put asleep. It was difficult decision for me. Both Whitey and I missed him. A year later, Whitey joined him. He'd been missing his pal, which was obvious in his lack of enthusiasm for the other bird we took in. They are both buried side-by-side in the garden of my first house.

Next came 2 love birds: Paco & Tequila Sunrise. Paco was a present for my mother, living in Florida at the time. I thought she could use some companionship. While keeping him for her until she came to visit, he got a little attached, but he did fall in love with my parents. He had the run of their house, hopping up and down the stairs of their townhouse, following them around. He loved riding around on dad's shoulder, giving dad an occasional nip on the ear, which made dad roar with laughter.

After Paco moved in with my parents, I got Tequila. He would get out of his cage, run across the room, climb up the spokes of my chair, climb up my body, then hop on my fingers, while I typed on the computer. If that didn't get him enough attention, he'd climb up onto my shoulder, nibble on my ear and proceed to hang from my glasses! He was such a character! Everything was perfect in Tequila's world until Bek came along -- a cute black and white tuxedo cat that had been found motherless in a basement.

(Stay tuned for Part 3!)

Thursday, June 22, 2006

In the beginning...

I'm a lover of most all creatures. Just ask my husband. I've had a lot of pets during my life time, much to my parents dismay, since only recently that they cared very little for my love of animals and merely tolerated it. But I digress. I've parented hamsters, dogs, birds (parakeets & love birds) as well as cats.

My very first pet was a tiny turtle. You know...the kind that had a plastic bowl, molded into a tiny clear forest with a tiny plastic tree on a mock island?! Well, my younger sister took care of him. She wanted to touch him and ended up sticking her finger in the back of his soft shell, sending him quickly to the grave. It was a long time before I got another pet.

About age 8, I had two cats: Princess and Coco. Princess was a totally white indoor/outdoor cat who brought Coco into this world. Coco was a hot chocolate-colored ball of energy who used to hide under the sofa and attack my mother's legs with his claws (whether she had on slacks, jeans or nylons). At that time, we lived in rural Missouri, so our cats came and went as they pleased and pretty much did. I don't recall what happened to either, but I'm guessing they just "disappeared." Where I lived, that usually meant they went "over the rainbow bridge." Either way, I loved them both.

Then there were Snowball (mine) and Brownie (my sister's) the bunnies. My parents got them for us for Easter one year. They lived in a pen outside our trailer. (Yes, I lived in a T-R-A-I-L-E-R when I was a kid.) Little did my parents know that, even though they were brother and sister, they still liked to $&^# like bunnies! Before deposting their litter, my parents found them a new home. Go figure.

I guess my aunt Judy took pity on my loss, and we got a beagle for Christmas! It was my very first dog, named Snoopy. He wasn't very bright, but he was loveable. Unfortunately, his stupidity led to a short life. While taking my sister and I to school, he ran into traffic on our one road and met the fate of a truck. My mother scooped him up and took him to the vet but to know avail. He passed away.

After Snoopy's demise, we got Tiger -- a German Shepard/Beagle mix. He wasn't particularly pretty, but he was smart. In fact too smart for his britches. He survived being hit from a car, only to chew the cast off his leg immediately afterward. Boy was he stubborn. He was a great watchdog and protected us fiercely. I think my dad really liked him.

Of course, Tiger needed some companionship, so we got Challenger -- a full blooded Springer Spaniel. A beautiful dog, sweet, loving but dumb as an ox. He loved to run around, tease Tiger and get into everything. He was gentle and, one day, being a hunting dog, he brought home a baby bunny which he carried gently in his mouth and deposited in front of my mother.

My parents decided we were moving to the "Big Smoke" (aka St Louis), so they found new homes for Tiger and Challenger, leaving me in a puddle of tears and totally heartbroken.

(to be continued)