Monday, April 02, 2012

"I know, I know...why?"

 In older books and movies it was common for the characters to have a faithful pet at their side to save the day. In fact, I often put pets in my books because this is what I grew up with. 

 Examples: The Mandie books. The Boxcar Children. Tintin. The Little House Books. To name a few. 

 Faithful, devoted companions who never leave your side. Who slide down chimneys to untie ropes and follow you all about the world. As a little girl I wanted such a companion. But what did I get?

 I have two pets. My fat Kitty and my new baby corn snake, Indiana. Indy died, sadly. 

 My Kitty I love to pieces. I got her as soon as we moved into a house that allowed pets. She was the runt and has extra claws. A misfit. I brought her home, saved her from our dog, and she's hogged my bed ever since. 

 She had kittens and we kept one, a boy, from her first litter. But he took a liking to the outdoors so had to go to a new, outdoor home. Since then she's clung to me, pranced about my head as I sleep, takes up most of the bed, hogs my blankets, tries to trip me, knocks over my picture of Irene Adler, tries to eat my breakfast, tosses fur on my computer, sits on me while I try to read, and gets in the way when I watch movies. 

 Would she save me from evil, secret agents? Sure. Long enough for me to feed her. 

 My second pet, as I said, is Indiana. He's been here a month. His tank is right above my bed and whenever he plays Kitty sits and drools. Kind of ruins his fun. 

 Indiana has two games he likes to play best. No wait, three. He likes to climb up the walls of his glass tank and slither around the top of it. He also loves tying himself into knots, especially while he is trying to eat. But his all time favorite game is playing dead. He has pulled this on me three or four times now. He will lay about, unmoving, and glaze his eyes over. He's really good at it. 

 So, as far as having pets who will risk everything to save my life, I'm as good as done for. And as for having pets that are, normal, like the pets you might have. Well, I've completely given up. I mean, how many other snakes play dead just to worry their owners? 

 Anyways, just some of my weird thoughts. Like the one that Jamie Bell has to be the bravest man that ever lived to wear a skin tight suit, put dots on his face, and talk to a stuffed or wired dog in front of Peter Jackson AND Steven Spielberg.

 Okay, now, Allons-y!!!!!!!! 

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