Once again, here’s the Marketing for Romance Writers yearlong blog hop. For week 41, the writing prompt is:
Meet my pets
I didn’t have pets when I was growing up, because we were always moving. Boo hoo. Don’t you feel sorry for me?
Actually, I had a goldfish once. It died.
And a cat for a year or less. It’s name was Cat. It used the bathtub as a litter box, so one day mom left a half-inch of water to keep Cat away. Apparently she didn’t look before she leaped, because we suddenly heard a cat fight from the bathroom as poor Cat splashed around in her panic to escape. When she emerged, she was soaked from ears to tail.
At age 25, we settled down and actually stayed in one place for more than a year! Yes, that deserves both italics and an exclamation point, because I hadn’t had spatial stability in 10 years or more. But feel no pity; I liked it that way.
Not coincidentally, at 25 I also got my first real pet: Lion. We used to take her for long walks along the river, and she never had to be trained to stay with us. A neighbor had a St Bernard who played with Lion and one day they were standing side by side on the porch. The St Bernard wagged its tail and knocked poor Lion right off the porch.
When we moved from British Columbia to Arizona, we drove the 2200 mile trip with four kids, aged 5 to 11, and my eldest son’s cat, Priscilla. I don’t know how Judi and I survived that trip, but we did. At rest stops, Scott put a leash on him to walk the poor cat, who slunk around fearfully, belly an inch above the ground.
More cats followed in an orgy of petdom, including Katie, Whiskers, and Willy, up to three at a time. I love petting cats, love hearing them purr. Unfortunately, I developed allergies. Sigh.
There were more dogs, too, though only one at a time: Sable (an ill-behaved, 95-pound brute), Asta (a saintly Schnauzer), and Laddie (an opinionated Maltese). Laddie distrusted men, including me. After a few years he deigned to let me walk him, and he had this weird trait: he loved curbs. Not to pee on, to walk on. He thought they were Laddie-sized sidewalks. If a curb was anywhere in sight, you could count on him to trot along it.
My current pet is Twiggles. Effing Feline, the virtual cat I’m not allergic to, dislikes Twiggles, maybe because she’s a dog or maybe because she’s real and he isn’t. Wiggles has no tail, and we have no idea why, because she’s a rescue dog. Her whole rear end ‘twiggles’ when she tries to wag. She loves my grandsons, too. Well, actually she mostly ignores them.
What about you?
What’s special about your pets? Tell us about it in a comment. And be sure to check out the other writers taking part in this blog hop.