I feel terrible about our poor dead snake. A client stopped by Good House yesterday and took a look at it and told me he was a chicken snake and non-venomous. Today I'll bury him under my fern. I'll put a piece of The D's yard art there to mark his grave. He has lots of little things I could use. Frogs, rabbits, fake stones carved with things like "Grandpa's Garden", angels and more. I have several large, beautiful stones - rose quartz crystals, some kind of aqua green crystal, and a geode or two. But I think I know what belongs there. The D's statue of a girl holding a little bowl for bird seed. It's similar to the one on the cover of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. It seems appropriate considering the weird characters populating my life lately. Including me, of course.
Even though my behavior yesterday was contumelious, I'm actually very kind to animals. Seeing a dead animal can derail me. Like when I'm driving and I see a lifeless dog who's been hit by a car. Or when I'm walking and there's a dead bird on the sidewalk. Seeing the way animals are cruelly trapped and killed for their fur. I get upset by movies like Lion King (Mufasa's murder), 101 Dalmations (Cruella stealing the dogs so she can make a fur coat from their skins), The Godfather (horse's head in the bed) and of course, Bambi.
Once I was tormented by a squirrel who chewed on the eave right outside my bedroom window. It woke me up every morning. I'd get Kiddo's Airsoft gun. So I'd throw on my robe and run out the door and shoot at the pesky squirrel and he'd run to the front of the house and I'd chase him all around until he had his fill of fucking with my head and left. No telling what my neighbors thought.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore so I borrowed a trap from my neighbors. An old couple who'd grown up in the country and had a great vegetable garden in their yard. So they hated squirrels, natch. One chilly morning I went outside to check the trap, and a little chipmunk was curled up in the cage, no doubt dead of hypothermia. I was devastated. Carried the cage across the street and when Mary came to the door, I burst into tears and told her I couldn't do it any more. She looked at me like I'd lost my mind. I sat the cage down by her door and thanked her for trying to help. Later that day, she told me that the chipmunk recovered and they'd let him go. I'd like to think she was telling the truth.
Then there were the gerbils. After taking our turn one weekend boarding Gerald, the 2nd grade class's pet, Kiddo decide he wanted two of them. Of course, I was responsible for their care and feeding. As I understood it, they only needed to be fed every couple days. I was in the middle of tax season and I got home around 9 one night. It always took me a couple hours to wind down. Around 11, I heard a little rustle in the cage and realized I hadn't fed them in a while. So I gave them an extra portion. I noticed that only one of them was eating. I looked closely and to my horror, I saw that the other one was dead and that he'd been partially cannibalized. A la the Donner party and Flight 571. I managed to dispose of the dead one so Kiddo wouldn't see the carnage. I was still up, crying my eyes out, at 1:00 a.m.
Then there's my bulimic cat. My ex-husband would feed her every morning. When he moved out, I forgot to feed her. She jumped on my bed in the middle of the night and walked around my head, meowing loudly. I pushed her off the bed and she jumped back up. This went on eight or nine times before it hit me. I hadn't fed her in a few days. I jumped up and ran to the kitchen and sure enough, her bowl was empty. Licked clean. I guiltily filled her bowl and went back to bed. Now that I think about it, that might have contributed to her bulimia.
When I had to take our older cat to the vet to have her put to sleep, I stayed in the room to be with her when she died. I didn't expect to get so hysterical. I'm sure the young vet didn't expect me to cling to him, sobbing. He was very comforting. I got a sympathy card in the mail a few days later.
Ok,I hope I've made my case that I'm not a cruel, insensitive jerk when it comes to animals. But I haven't embraced the Sikhism concept that insects are sacred. They try not to step on ants, even.
And while I don't suffer from ophidiophobia (fear of snakes), I'm pretty much afflicted with katsaridaphobia (fear of cockroaches).
Well, I suppose I've exhausted this subject, so I'll get started on the work my clients are starting to scream for. Wow, I'm sooo behind.
Today's gonna be a better day. I can sit down on both cheeks now and my tailbone seems to be intact. My Comcast email is working now (they called late last night to tell me so). My Palm Pre 2 is on its way and should arrive today. I'll call Verizon so they can switch me over and cancel my Sprint contract. I can't wait to return this fucking Kyocera Echo (whatever you do, don't buy one). I sold my stock in stupid Sprint yesterday. Made a nice little gain considering I've just owned it a few weeks. I got an email from the Board of Directors last night saying they'd be in touch. It'll be nice to feel vindicated for a change.
There's no rain in the seven day forecast. The sunshine will do wonders for my mood. Maybe this spate of bad luck has run its course. I can only hope.
Welcome to my world!
My life's been crazy since my Daddy moved in with me immediately after my mother's death in October 2010. My one and only kiddo headed to college at Carolina at the end of August. So...I lived on my own, for the first time in my life, for a total of a blissful six weeks. Then, I started the parenting gig with my dad. He's a combination of a grouchy old man, a surly teenager and a temperamental toddler. Needless to say, I get very close to the brink of insanity sometimes. I get through life by finding the humor in difficult circumstances. And for some reason, I wind up in the weirdest situations. I couldn't make this stuff up. So I wind up having lots and lots crazy adventures which make great stories to share with my friends. Writing about my life is so therapeutic. My ramblings range from funny to sad to angry (full of cuss words) to sweet. While my focus is dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a parent to my Daddy, I have lots of random, totally unrelated posts. Whatever's on my mind. I love to make people laugh, and I'm happy to think my readers will get my strange sense of humor. And maybe, people who are in my situation will be encouraged. That's all I can hope for...
No comments:
Post a Comment