A sad history of pets

I guess one universal wish in the world is to be understood.  Probably everyone wants people to "get" them, see where they're coming from, understand why their pet is a metal goat.

Oh.  Maybe that's just me. 

When you consider the history that my family has had with pets, you will understand why my pet is a metal goat.

Today's story is less of a story and more of a list.


First, there are two pets that didn't add devastation to my growing up years:

1- Butterscotch.  The only cat I've ever truly liked.  He was Olivia's cat.  He was yellow and puffy and fat and seemed smart.  He would go on walks with Olivia and me and he never wound around my ankles.  That's all.  There's nothing tragic about Butterscotch.

2- Simon.   Tabor's dog had puppies and he gave one of them to me.  I named him Simon and he was a black border collie.  He had brown eyes and would sit with me on the front porch and look at me wisely.  When I went to college, I enlisted Tabor to be a co-owner of Simon and Tabor was better with pets than the rest of us combined.  He should have been in charge all along.

But then, here are all the pets that weren't so lucky to have Tabor at the helm:

1- Elmer.  He was a cute grey and black puppy.  He was hit by a truck.

2- Danny.  He was a fabulous cow dog and a great protector.

He barked whenever someone drove up to our house so I always felt safe when he was there if we were home alone.  (Also, there was a gun in my parents' room which gave me an admittedly false sense of security.  I don't know if I'd been able to use it but when I got scared, I'd think, "There's a gun on Daddy's shelf...")  We all loved Danny.  Except for when he killed kittens (see below).

3-  Rosie.  Rosie was a black and sleek cat.  She would wind around my ankles when I went outside and I didn't like that.  I felt like she was trying to trip me. Like most all the pets, she was an outdoor pet and I'm sure caught a lot of mice for which I'm grateful.  She had several litters of kittens which we loved and named and adored and then Danny would kill them.  Sometimes right in front of our eyes.  It was traumatic, especially since we loved Danny...

4- Pepper.  I got as a wobbly puppy for my tenth birthday.  I loved Pepper.  I took him on walks and fed him and trained him to sit.

sweet little Pepper, snoozing in the sun

Several years later he bit a little girl who was visiting our house and the next day (when I was at school) my dad shot Pepper.  Because we couldn't have a dog that bit little girls visiting our house.  Whatever.  Maybe she deserved it.

5- Several fish.  I think they had names but I can't remember them all.  Once my cousin, who was a toddler at the time, turned up the heat in the aquarium and cooked all the fish.

6- We had a turtle.  (Did the turtle have a name?) He was staked in our lawn and nibbled on grass and was generally awesome--because who doesn't like a turtle?  One day he disappeared.  I was afraid I'd someday find his empty shell in the sagebrush but I never did.

7- We had a bird.  Well, Enoch did.  It was in a cage in the boys' room and Tabor was allergic to it so the cage was moved to the living room.  Then it got birdseed everywhere so my mom would put it on the porch during the day and move it inside at night.  One night no one remembered to move the bird inside.  He froze to death.

(Don't tell PETA about our family, OK?)

8-We had ducks for a little while.  (You've got to admire our optimism.)  They were adorable as babies and then less adorable when they were grown.  Then some animal killed them.

9- I don't even want to go into the chickens because they weren't exactly pets but let's just say, that didn't end well.  At all.

10- In college I had two goldfish.  They lived in a gallon jar on my desk.  I took them home at Christmas time.  Marianne and I slid off the icy road and had to be towed back onto the road so we could continue on our way.  It was scary.  Also, the fish died.  From fright?  I don't know.  Once we got home, we had a funeral procession in their honor.  I'm 100% sure it was Olivia's idea.

I love everything about this picture.  The black shroud over the fish bowl, the doffed hats, the patched and repatched pants on my skinny brothers, the head scarf on Olivia.  And speaking of Olivia.  No pants?

Ammon poured the fish out buried the fish.

Hey!  That's the wagon from the first story! And hey!  That's the truck from tomorrow's story!

So now you see why my pet is Horace.  A good-natured little goat.  I love that he's quiet and doesn't eat much.  More than that though, I love that he won't die.

I don't think it's in my genetic make-up to keep a real animal safe.

Besides, he's awfully cute.