He’s been gone far too long.
Here one day then completely AWOL the next.
Am I the only one who is getting a bit concerned?
This is messing with my world.
Not only do the rest of them seem unconcerned, it’s like they’ve covered over his things like the cats paw-up clay in mounds over their dirt in the litter box.
The more the rest of them tidy up — the more they stir up.
I smell him everywhere.
Not as strong, for sure. They must sense it too?
I recline on the sofa in front of the television.
I lie on the bed.
I sprawl on the bathroom tile.
I walk into the kitchen and get something to eat. Sometimes.
Every now and the I take a joust at the furry dumbbells who never have grasped the idea of a spirited game of tag.
Stuck up bitches.
Maybe I need to talk with someone? A professional.
No one around here but me seems to give a flying flip that one of the pack is lost.
Even Lassie won’t return my texts.
* * *
My son’s been away at college a few weeks now and our dog hasn’t been the same.
I got to wondering what must be going through his doggy mind.
Have you ever encountered a depressed pet?
Linking up over at the Speakeasy and the community of coolio bloggers at Yeah Write.
This past Saturday, our local Humane Society held the one year anniversary of its beautiful facility.
And there is no one in my wingspan more passionate about this subject than my daughter so I asked her to write this post.
Hi I’m Hannah Kate and I’m writing this post, kind of.
I loved it! There were two cats that looked like my two cats Oreo and Daisy! So cute!
I loved that there was a cat room and there was also a dog room! the dogs were all sooooooooooooooooooooooo cute! I really wanted to adopt all of those dogs and all of those cats too!
Even the fat ones!
But of course, my dad would probably never talk to me again if I brought home some new cats and some new dogs.
Well, if my mom would let me in that little fantasy.
I loved that they gave free cat treats way, Daisy just loves that! Oreo too, but Daisy’s gotten more cause Oreo never even bothered to show up when I was handing some out, so Daisy has gotten more treats than Oreo.
Thank you Hannie for that report.
Yes, This is Mama now, and good time was had by all.
Both our kitties are rescue kitties.
Not that they act terribly grateful or anything.
Happy Birthday Humane Society.
Do you have a rescue pet story?
Monday Morning you sure look fine ~ as Fleetwood Mac would say.
But only 45 minutes into Monday morning, I’m not so sure.
Joining up once again with Monday Listicles. This week we are to link up with An Hour in a Day and list 10 things that happened in a wonderful hour of our lives.
10) 12:45 a.m. this morning, I awoke after hearing the dog whimpering.
The dog who had been having going to the bathroom problems.
Get up take him out.
Stand around waiting for dog to do something in the dark and start to become bit creeped out. Something never happens. (With the dog and nothing happens to me either.)
See cat hanging out in dark.
9) Drag him in at 12:59.
Realize I am wide awake.
Get laptop and start to work.
8) 1:09 a.m. Cat looks at me… “feed me.”
She always gets canned food first thing in morning ~ Like 4:30 first thing in the morning.
NO. It’s one o’clock in the morning.
7) 1:17 a.m. feed cat.
Rescue my son’s flip flop from dog.
Dog comes and sits down beside me.
I pet the dog. He seems way too awake.
Lots of shaking, scratching with loud jingling of collar.
6) 1:19 a.m. I take collar off dog.
Check weather.com to see if any chance of rain for my garden since I saw it was cloudy when out walking the dog.
5) 1:22 a.m.
Realize dog had made a very bad smell when by me. Contemplate walking him again.
Go back to work.
4) 1:26 a.m. Insert page numbers
Print out story.
3) 1:34 a.m. hop back online.
Looked through a “Can’t believe they are the same age?” feature.
I must be old because I didn’t know who half of those pictured.
2) 1:40 a.m. I’m cold. Go get a sweater.
Realize I’m procrastinating.
1) 1:46 a.m.
The dog and cat have settled down. I’m still wide awake.
Time to get something done.
How about you? What do you do when you find yourself wide awake in the middle of the night?
Another death in the tank this morning.
Every Thursday, our high school starts an hour later.
So it was just me, my senior (about to leave me forever) and Tebow (the black lab, who will never leave me for I am the only one who runs with him.)
As we were walking out the door, I heard the toilet flush.
“The black goldfish died.”
What we just bought him?
So my high school student disposed of the fish before the eight year old got home.
* * *
Much later in the day, the eight year old and I were in Wal*Mart.
“Your black goldfish died.”
Why, oh why do I say such things?
We ended up looking at the fish.
“Here get some guppies. They always have babies,” I hear myself say.
I mentioned how they have babies as much as we have ground beef for dinner.
That’s all he needed to hear.
“Mama. When you are working, you need to take a chair and sit with your computer and watch the fish. When an egg comes out you race over to the little tank and put the egg in it.”
“Joe,” I explained, “they don’t lay eggs they have live babies.”
His eyes got wide as pecan pies.
“You scoop them up the minute they pop out.”
This morning we were down one animal.
Tonight we are up five.
Who knows where we’ll be tomorrow?
Who has guppies out there? Can you really keep their babies?
Our fish population has taken a hit lately.
First, our smaller Plecostomus died after our Oscar kept picking at him.
Then Felix, the aforementioned terroristic Oscar died after a protracted illness…
That left one tiny feeder goldfish who outwitted the ailing Oscar and
Who died early last week.
Or so we thought.
“Mom Sucky’s floating on top?” yelled our youngest one morning before school.
Help. We have a sick aquarium.
I told him to get Sucky out. Honestly, I couldn’t stomach anymore dead fish. Losing Felix saddened me terribly and once again I’d failed as a mom of creatures born with gills.
“He’s too big. He’ll clog the toilet,” I yelled hoping to catch my son before Sucky’s lifeless body hit the water in the porcelain container.
Learned that lesson with Felix. Who did clog the toilet. Hate it when large tropical fish block plumbing.
So there went son, lifeless Sucky in hand, walking out the backdoor.
A minute passed.
“MOMMMMMMM!” The back door blows open and in rushes son.
“He’s alive. He’s alive. I put him in the dirt…and he started moving.”
“Put him in the water, Joe!” Good grief son.
Into the depths of the sick tank Sucky went. He floated for a moment…then dashed down to the bottom.
Checking in on him later in the day, Sucky was fastened to Squidward’s house par usual.
Sucky, the fish who cheated death.
Heaven help us all.
Or maybe that’s the point.
Do you know a fish who cheated death? Or survived a deficient fish-mom?
A turtle. Especially a terrestrial turtle.
* * *
Come on people. Has anyone seen a shoe? It's Waterford and a size 10 tortoise.
Yes, the newest member of the Miles’ household is a reptile.
(I guess the last newest member of our household was another reptile — a snake — who escaped.)
Snakes can escape.
Tortoises, turtles who are land bound, cannot. Or so one would think.
This Cinderella has some moves and not just on the dance floor.
You look up and she’s nowhere to be seen.
Okay, we’ve found her every time but I got to admire her chutzpah.
“I maybe be a turtle but…
Don’t fence me in.”
She made it to the pumpkin before the Prince grabbed hold of her shell.
I like her.
I like her more than I thought I could.
With Cinderella, slow is the new fast.
These days I’m into slowing down.
How about you?
This is Felix.
Felix has grown a lot since the day I raced down to get him to replace Oscar who had unknowingly jumped to his death.
Felix is too big for his tank. Since I’m trying to buy Christmas presents for now Felix is having to be a very large fish in a very small pond.
Problem Number 1: The smaller food pellets weren’t satisfying him. So I went to the larger ones.
He ate them right up….but then spit out all kinds of bitty food particles. (I couldn’t keep up with him.)
That tank just wouldn’t stay clean.
I changed the water. I changed the filter every few days. There was just too much extra food falling down into the gravel.
WHY ARE MOMS MADE TO SUFFER taking care of their children’s critters?
My eldest came up with a plan.
Start feeding Felix little feeder goldfish.
Suddenly an idea that would have two months ago been very disgusting became most appealing.
* * *
Yesterday afternoon my two sons, 18 and eight went to the store and brought back five goldfish.
The first two were gone faster than you can say….goldfish.
Then it seems as the day wore on, my 8-year-old son became rather attached to one of the remaining fish. I went into his room to see this.
And just to be clear.
Yes. One little fish had wormed its little way into his heart.
And then after school, his mean old 18-year-old brother…
Well, let’s just say we are all out of fish and need to head up to the store tomorrow.
Lots of tears.
How expensive is this going to get?
It was Friday I think.
I can’t remember because so much has happened since then — but I went into my son’s room to feed his two fish and
one fish looked normal,
and I couldn’t find the other fish to see if he looked normal or not.
That’s when I started to think when I found him he probably wasn’t going to look normal.
If you consider swimming and breathing through his gills in and out, in and out — gathering oxygen from the water — the best way to find a goldfish.
I found him.
This happened while children were at school. Scooped him up. It was Crystal I think. So I guess he was a she, at least in name.
I disposed of Crystal with little fanfare. Who can take the time to find a bitty box? It’s not like I keep small containers around for goldfish sarcophaguses. (Though lately it seems like that might be prudent.)
I went about my work, never making it to the store to replace her or him or well, maybe I should say to replace Crystal.
Approximately 48 hours. That’s how long it too my son to discover only Nemo II remained.
To surprise he took it rather well. Then he asked if I buried her.
Or mumbled something.
Sometimes it’s just best to mumble when mumbling would spare an innocent hurt. When mumbling would spare you precious time having to comfort a sobbing child.
So once again the littlest one of the Miles’ household didn’t make it very long. But soon we will have a few new babies to loving foster to maturity.
For this is what the Easter Bunny brought the children in their baskets.
I think this is going to go smashingly well.
Why let Man’s Best Friend miss out on all the Easter fun?
Come out tomorrow, Saturday April 23, for the third annual Georgia Rescue and Rehabilation Doggy Easter Egg Hunt at Heritage Park in Madison.
Whoo. Our Tebow’s getting excited at the thought of all the new friends to meet — along with all the new smells to savor.
Registration starts at 11 a.m. — with all sniffing and hunting to begin at noon.
The fee is 5 dollars per dog and all dogs must be on a leash.
There will be a rabies clinic with very affordable shots and opportunities to get a Pet Portrait of your dog in all his Easter finery. Micro-chipping will be available to ensure the safe return of your loved one should she ever roam too far from home. There will be refreshments for two-legged types as well.
Georgia Rescue and Rehab is a local non-profit organization that rescues and finds loving homes for abandoned dogs and cats. A completely volunteer organization — come out and support this wonderful cause.
We all have a dash. The space between our birth date and the day we die.
Unfortunately for our family, Nemo’s dash was very teensy.
This morning was one of those pleasant mornings. Those days when you are already late…only to have to dress, feed and drag a crying child to the car.
“Is he sleeping? My beta fish sleeps a lot.” This was our daughter. Good grief. Asleep?
Nemo lay motionless on his side on a pile of multi-colored gravel. His face still carried that scared look.
Yes, Nemo came into our lives a short 48 hours ago.
Joe wondered if he was so tiny that Nemo choked on a big flake of food. He vowed to break up all flakes from now on.
I bought that neon mountain for him yesterday. Do you think that gave off some poison gas that did him in?
Joe wants to pick Nemo’s replacement. Maybe find his brother or sister. We decided if we did find a family member, the party line is that Nemo left yesterday for some much needed R&R in the Turks and Caicos.
For now we are all just left with a bunch of questions….and an empty bowl in our lives.