More Pets

After I got married, I knew the first thing that I wanted was a dog. Unfortunately, the man I was married to was allergic to dogs. Goodbye to a St. Bernard and any other dog. So, the next best thing was to get a cat, and we did. In my entire married life there would be nine kids and more cats then I can count, two hidden dogs, three turtles, guinea pigs, gerbils, hamsters, goldfish, exotic fish, an iguana, and of course a few rabbits.

The animals in our lives left memorable footprints on our hearts and lots of smells and droppings in our home. We started out with one cat, Pierre, and then a second one, Barney, that we had for a long time. Then came Casey and Archie.

Years later, our friends were moving to California and needed to leave behind their 2-year-old Irish Setter, Rusty. We took Rusty and within the hour, my husband's allergy started. He coughed, he wheezed, his eyes watered, and he had a hard time breathing until he took an allergy pill. We still kept the dog. But five days later, my youngest son, packed a bag and sat on a table, tired and freaked out from having Rusty lie spread eagle on top of him. Rusty went back to his happy owners, and my son unpacked his bags and stayed.

My oldest daughter seemed to be the animal lover. She collected animals like little girls collected Barbie dolls. As a matter of fact, she never had any Barbie dolls. Instead she collected cats, which died or ran away. She had a 20-gallon fish tank, filled with tropical fish. Her younger sister knocked the tank over, and some of the fish died, our cat ate a few, some were stepped on, and three survived. Weeks later, my daughter would find one surviving fish in her desk drawer, swimming around a tiny pool of water in the corner of the drawer. She also owned an ugly iguana that grew bigger and went off to college with her.

We had two boxing turtles, which stunk up our home. My cleaning lady gave me an ultimatum, "It's the turtles or me." Of course I kept her.

But it was the rabbits that continued to multiply and smell up the house because my daughter kept the cage in her bedroom and the other cage in the family room. Some died, others were given away when the kids got tired of cleaning the cages on a daily basis. And there is one thing you learn with rabbits, their cages must be cleaned daily.

My one son took in a puppy that he thought he could keep quietly in his bedroom. Puppies like babies are anything but quiet.

My youngest daughter had a turtle that ran away when she was cleaning his cage outdoors. Runaway turtle? I doubt the validity of that statement!

Recently I had six cats. One was mine the others belonged to two of my kids who moved back to live with me. Thankfully, my daughter moved out and took two cats and left the oldest cat with me. I am down to three cats now; one is my son's cat, my foster cat and mine

There is no doubt that I love animals but I think that I am tired of being the only one who buys the food and the litter, cleans the two litter boxes (2to 3 times a day), and takes the cats to the veterinary.

When this group of cats dies or leaves - I am going to have to think long and hard if I want to replace them. It just might be nice to sleep in my bed without a cat next to my head, another one lying on my legs, cutting off my circulation. But then the flip side is that at least I am kept warmed and feel loved by those furry cats. Face it...animals love you unconditionally.

Pets

Growing up, I always wanted a dog. My dream was to own a St. Bernard. I loved that it was a big dog and it had longhair. I knew that living in Cleveland, Ohio, that if I got lost or stuck out in the snow, my dog would find me and save me. It would also have a keg around it's neck and that would have hot chocolate to warm me. My dog would guide me safely back to my house on 41st Street and Loraine Avenue.

Since we lived in rental apartments and rental homes, we were never allowed to have a dog. Except for the time my brother and I found a black Cocker Spaniel puppy and worked on our father's emotions to let it live with us. I called the dog, Mickey. My brother seemed to have called him Rusty. Whatever, we enjoyed the pet for a few short days, until late one night, my father was hurrying to the bathroom, stepped over the big piece of plywood that kept Mickey in the kitchen, only to plant his foot firmly in Mickey's poop. Mickey was gone the next day after we came home from school. It was a loss that I can remember, fifty years later. But I did name my twin son Michael after a pet that I never had a chance to grow up with. My Michael (Mickey) is still around. Even though he made messes, I never got rid of him.

We were allowed to have some smaller pets that didn't come on four legs though. We had birds, like a canary and parakeets that my mother loved and we tolerated. It is hard to have a pet that you can't pet or hold but that was life with the birds. Candy, the Canary was yellow and sang beautifully and then died. No more canaries. The parakeets could talk because my mother taught them. One parakeet died and the other developed gout and my Dad made me walk into the Vet with the bird in his cage, and walk out with an empty cage. That was heartless on my father's part and a lasting memory for me.

We also had our share of gold fish and turtles. I do remember two different times we were given a fish and a chicken to eat. One of my father's friends caught a big fish in Lake Erie and gave it to him. The fish wasn't dead and my father couldn't kill it. So, he put it into our bathtub where it swam around for the weekend. No baths for the weekend. I was scared to death to even use the bathroom for fear that the fish would jump out of the tub. On that Monday morning, my father took the fish back to Lake Erie and threw it back into the water.

The other animal was the live chicken that our friend, the butcher, brought over to our house and gave it to us for Thanksgiving dinner. Our friend stayed around long enough to kill the chicken in our backyard. My brother and I watched the chicken get his head cut off, and run around our small backyard until it dropped. I don't know who plucked the feathers and I don't care, but I do know that no one ate that chicken for dinner. As far as that went, I never ate eggs for years because eggs came from chickens and I wouldn't eat both for a very long time.

As far as pets...when I grew up and had my own home, the first animal that I intended to buy would be that St. Bernard puppy. But that dream never materialized. I would come to have many kids, many cats, an iguana, goldfish, aquariums filled with exotic fish, big boxed turtles, rabbits, gerbils, guinea pigs, hamsters, hermit crabs and two stray dogs. This story is for another time and another Blog.

Saturday Morning Cartoons

Saturday morning and my grandson gets up early, comes into my bedroom, jumps on my bed and plays his DSI. I am awake, reading a book along to some music coming from his DSI. The song is something like, "Just another story..." while he plays his skateboard game. My granddaughter, too, is awake and making a birthday card for a friend. I assume the birthday party will be a sleepover.

I start to think...this is how my grandchildren spend Saturday mornings in 2011. This was a change from when my brother and I would get up and watch Saturday morning cartoons. We watched the cartoons on a small black and white television, all three channels offered something - Tom and Jerry, along with a fuzzy snowy picture as we adjusted the old rabbit ears on top of the TV. Along with good old Tom and Jerry, there was Gene Autry, or Roy Rogers and Dale Evans Saturday morning series, Kukla, Fran and Ollie, Howdy Doody, Flash Gordon, Cisco Kid, Sky King and others. There were more show to watch but my old mind is having its usual senior moment about it.


Then along came my children. We still had a black and white television set. My kids would say we were the only people with a black and white set in our neighborhood. They were right. There were way more cartoons to watch on Saturday mornings, starting with the test pattern before the television stations were on the air. Some of my children would come home from their early morning paper routes, take their place on the couch, the chairs, and on the floor with their younger brothers and sisters, eating a bowl of their favorite cereal ready to watch their favorite shows.

The shows would progress from the 70s to the late 80s for my kids and they would include: Scooby All Stars, Daffy Duck, Dark Wing Duck (my personal favorite...and yes, I would watch the cartoons with them), Fantastic Four, Plastic Man, Popeye, Transformers, Thunder Cats, Smurfs, New Adventures of Mr. T., Looney Tunes' Merrie Melodies, GI Joe, Flintstones, Jeffersons, Super Mario Show, Captain Lou Albano...and a host of others.

Now it is 2011, my grandchildren don't even bother to watch Saturday morning cartoons or watch any children shows. Probably because the cartoons and children shows are on television all the time, every day, and repeated over and over. Besides there are all the other new technical devises that they can occupy themselves with, like the DSI, Game Boy, Wii system, and computer games.

But I still long for the old days when my kids were little. Or maybe I am nostalgic for the old days of the simple, innocent routine when my children were little and under my roof...when we could share breakfast together and watch all those cartoons. I think that might be it but I know that I can't go back in time, except for my memories. So, I now enjoy my grandson on my bed, playing with his DSI, and me, reading my book on Kindle.

Even the Lone Ranger had Someone

I was feeling kind of down. Maye it was my milestone birthday. This was going to be a tough one, but in five years, that birthday is going to be an even harder one.

Or maybe it was the workshop that I signed up for, a 13-week course on divorce and separation, every Monday evening. Mondays are turning out to be self-reflective moments that leave me feeling loss and drained.

Or maybe it is the dark months and lack of sun. But I should be okay; I take Vitamin D tablets, which are good for lack of sun and even great for your heart.

Or maybe it was the stinking comment from my son made about my cooking. I showed him, he made supper that night.

Then I pondered my life and realized, except for my cat, I am alone. I realized that people pretty much have someone in their lives.

Look, let's face it, you know those couples: Lucy and Desi, Dick and Laura Petrie, Dick and Jane, Romeo and Juliet, Rachel and Ross, Sonny and Cher, Adam and Eve, Ken and Barbie, Fred and Wilma, Betty and Barney, Homer and Marge, Roy and Dale, Bud and Lou, Martin and Lewis, Laurel and Hardy, Lady and Tramp, Cinderella and Prince Charming, Beauty and the Beast, Donald and Daisy, Superman and Lois Lane, Angeline and Billy and Brad and Jennifer.

Well, you get the picture. I guess I want to be part of another half. Heck, even the Lone Ranger had someone. He had Tonto. Where's my Tonto, or Sonny, or Roy, or Dick or Desi????

Out there somewhere! Right now if I have to settle for my other half, I guess it would have to be my black and white long-haired cat, Scraps. At least Scraps never complains about the food and likes to sleep on my bed, on top of my legs. And ever so often she licks my hand. I think she has a salt deficiency.

If I think about that long enough - I realize the Lone Ranger may have had Tonto but I bet he didn't purr at him or lick his hand.

Agree to Disagree

I have a friend and we are as different as night and day. We share some similarities, like our love for our children and grandchildren, food, books, art, and running off for a writer's weekend. We like to eat but not the same things, we love to read but we like different books.

Where I baby-sit often, my friend baby-sits daily and loves it. I drive. My friend doesn't. We try to find time to go off writing somewhere for a short weekend. I drive and my friend is the perfect GPS.

Some of our differences are found in our politics that we try not to express, but sometimes that is difficult. I am a registered Independent, and my friend is a dyed in the wool Democrat. Sometimes we talk politics and get carried away. So far we have managed not to let that strain our friendship. But that is important to be able to express our differences and our feelings. That's what friends do. I know sometimes we get ticked off at what the other has expressed and maybe we hold on to our irritations for a time.

Our difference doesn't stand in our way or keep us from being with one another. I think we have come to respect one another. We are able to be civil and allow ourselves to express our opinions. We may not agree all the time but that is why we are friends, because of our spirited rhetoric that doesn't become too uncivil and full of hatred.

We may not change each other's thoughts or votes. We do reflect and think about what the other has said. Sometimes it does change our opinions.

Bottom line, we are friends, who can talk, who can agree to disagree. Being friends and respecting each other allows us to politely agree to disagree.

Bless Me Father

My niece finally responded to my email. I had tried to call her and didn't leave a message on her answering machine. I emailed and waited and to my surprise, I received a response. She assured me that she does read her emails but is lousy in responding. She sounded exactly like her father, my brother. I would email my brother, Jack, and never received a response from him. I knew that he read the emails but never bothered to respond to them. Frustrating to say the least. But in the email, my niece mentioned a few things. One was that it was now six months since my brother had died.

At first this could be a beginning of a confession: "Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been six months since my last confession." But it wasn't. Besides I no longer go to confession. Not to a priest. I do make an Act of Contrition and pour out my sins to God, telling Him that I am sorry and asking Him for forgiveness. I assume He hears me and He absolves me. Amen.

But yes, it has been six months since my brother died. I have lived every day of those six months, thinking about my brother and saying a prayer to him. Notice a prayer to him and not for him. To me, my brother was a walking, living, breathing saint on this earth. Something I know and I firmly believe. He was special; a special human being and that special teacher that everyone should have in their lives. He taught history at Loyola Academy in Chicago, Illinois. He taught for over 30 years. He taught a lot of students and in turn, he taught their children. He was a legend to his fellow peers, and students, and friends, and to any one who met him. They repeated his stories and antics. They even set up a page on Facebook dedicated to him.

My brother was a kind and loving person, who never hurt a single person. He was funny and had a great sense of humor. I liked being around him, even if we did live hundreds of miles away from each other, both busy with our families.

My parents did a lot for us but the biggest gift they gave my brother and I was the gift that we were brother and sister, and the same blood that flowed through our veins would bind us. We were close in mind and heart and thought. And we remained close until the end.

So, yes, I guess I would have to say, "Bless me, God, it has been six months since you took my brother home. My sin is that I have missed him, every day. I will always miss him. Amen."

Kindle

This modern technology is something else. My kids and grandkids are whizzes at it but I am - well, I am one of those dinosaurs, who didn't grow up with it. I can turn a light switch on and off, figure out my microwave, set my clock, work the washer, dryer dishwasher, and stove.

Yet, I never knew that modern technology would make me look like a dinosaur. I can handle the basics. When the video was the "in" thing - it took written directions for me to figure out how to tape a television program. When my kids owned video games, I watched them play and when I tried, I was out of the game before I even started.

I remember taking computer lessons at my local community college and I didn't even have my own computer at the time. Being a freelance writer, I was intrigued with how the backspace bar on the keyboard took away my mistakes by magic. After all those years of having to retype my copies to get it mistake free, then it was the correction tape, followed by White Out. Well the backspace is an absolute miracle! The invention of the keyboard and computer was beautiful! So far, I have owned four computers, and two laptops. I can't imagine life without a computer. Yes, I have come a long way baby.

I sometimes have to work and try four or five times before I hit the right buttons to get my TV on, let alone hit the right program to get the DVD to play and forget the DVR. My son jokes about getting me a black and white television set with the old rabbit ears. He may be right about that. He actually has written step-by-step directions on how to turn on the television, the cable and the DVD player.

The last time I went into Radio Shack, I came out with an old transistor radio. One of my sons put a piece of aluminum, foil on the antenna and laughed himself silly with the joke. I have to admit that it was pretty funny. I bought that transistor last year because I needed something to get me through my work at the greenhouse. This Christmas when we had our White Elephant gift exchange, someone else received my transistor with the foil on the antenna as their gift.

Cell phones, what can I say about them. I have one of those phones that I use with a calling card and I hate that as well. Don't bother to call me up because I don't know my phone number. Besides, the phone is lost somewhere in my house.

I did surprise my family when I invested in an Apple iPod. I read about those neat little electronic devises and figured that it would be a lot easier to manage a tiny iPod, instead of the bulky hand held Walkman that I owned. No way would I even think about bringing that ridiculous transistor radio with the foil on the antenna into the gym. They probably wouldn't let me into the gym with one of those things. In the beginning my daughter had to download the songs for me. Now, I have actually downloaded more music and I have no idea as to how I even did that successfully. The gods seemed to smile on babies and idiots.

I have a Blog and am on Facebook. Thank you to whoever founded Facebook and Blogs for Dummies. I have both of those books on my bookshelf next to my computer. Plus my genius daughter-in-law, who helps me with Blog questions, is an email away if I need her.

I also have a great camera but one of my kids has been the one to download the pictures on my computer. But I do know how to print the pictures up by myself at Target. I have no idea how to play video games or Wii games, even though my grandson tries to teach me. Dinosaur, yes...I am one. I will admit to that, even though I am not proud of that fact.

And now for my birthday, I have been given a Kindle. Something I wanted. Before I went to bed, I prayed to God - Please help me to be able to figure this one out, God. But then, I bet there is a Kindle book for Dummies.