I was born an animal whisperer. I've had pets of every stripe since I was very young. The cats, dogs, snakes and mice all looked me deep in the eyes and we connected. I can walk by an animal and make eye contact and they try to to follow me home. To this day, I am grateful for my Mama, because she didn't have any inclination towards furry things, but she tolerated my animals and also made sure they got fed. Then I had kids, the perfect solution to feeding chores. When Ken and I got married and our children began to get pets, I had to hold back, so that they'd bond to the kids instead of me. I didn't make this happen, it just is.
Every birthday and Christmas I ever experienced as a child, I had one request: a horse. I drew scads of pictures of them, dreamed about galloping alongside any car that I happened to be traveling in. Our neighbors had several in the pasture behind our house. They were not tended to much, just roaming free. I'd join one of their daughters and would ride pell-mell over the fields, bare-backed and ridiculous. I was scared to death of them, and I believe they knew it. Every time I got the chance to be on the back of a horse, it usually ended with some sort of event...getting bucked off, reared-up-on, or scraped off under low-hanging trees. Even though I have Dr. Doolittle leanings with most animals, apparently I'm not a horse whisperer. I never did obtain a horse, though not for lack of pleading. When the time came for us to actually be able to get one, where we had five acres (we fenced it and everything), my passions had drifted to my handsome husband, four darling kids, and piles of Golden Retrievers and kitties. There were also lots of chickens, gerbils, lizards and life to be lived as well as school to be had. Now our nest is empty and my tendons aren't holding up so well. Maybe the Lord will have one waiting for me in heaven, though hopefully not too soon...
The best Christmas present I ever got was Zoe, my very own Aussie puppy, no sharing with kids or siblings. I still adore Ken for that. It was 2012 and my first winter without a house full of children. We had just moved to downtown Villa Rica into our amazing Victorian house, with beautiful things to look at every day but no dog. There were two crazy barn kitties we had brought with us but they were preoccupied with all the chipmunks and critters living under the house. To this day, I have no clue how they survived a move from the country into a busy corner in town. Occasionally, I'd see traffic stopped and Peter lounging in the middle of the street. He lived another ten years before dying of old age. Matilda is sixteen and still leaving me eviscerated baby squirrels on the front stoop. She's now an indoor-outdoor cat, who waits at the door when it's time to go to the potty. Smartest cat I've ever seen. I lost Zoe some five years ago, then adopted precious Sadie, a retired Aussie show dog, whom we lost a few months ago. My heart might be buried in the front yard.
I told Ken he needs to hit another one out of the park. Maybe another kitty, that doesn't have to be walked of a cold morning or sweltering evening and we can pop out quickly for a camper run. I've got my eye on a Pixiebob (yes, it's a thing) that needs me to rescue it. Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat...
No comments:
Post a Comment