It’s Christmas Eve, and I haven’t written a blog post for a while. Hmmm…a Christmas-themed post, perhaps? Nope. How about some constructive advice to the novice writer? Nope. Or a spot of self-promotion? No, I’m saving that one for the New Year.
Recently I came across this blog post entitled “Lesson 27: Terrible Pets for Children”. And I laughed. A lot. Until I thought, “Oh, wait a minute…”
We’ve had, or are about to have, experience of several pets on this list in our household. We have a cat, who is much better now that she is too old to care, but who used to stalk and attack child number two when she was crawling (Child number two still has two functioning eyes, thanks for asking, but due to good luck more than good management).
We have a dog that likes to eat the cat poo out of the litter tray and then come and kiss you, and that regularly ingests unidentified long stringy things that have to be manually extracted from his rear end when he tries to poop them out (imagine a really, really disgusting version of a magician pulling impossibly long scarves from a small aperture and you’ll get the idea). Only this morning I was sitting at the breakfast bar with the dog somewhere behind me. I heard a chorus of “Ewwww!” and looked up to expressions of dismay and disgust on my daughters’ faces.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The dog threw up,” they said. “And he’s eating it again.”
With much trepidation, I looked behind me to see a small, watery puddle on the floor.
“Oh, is that all?” I said breezily. “I was expecting chunks.”
Yes, today was a good pet day – minimal levels of grossness, and nobody lost an eye.
I don’t know how many dead goldfish I’ve flushed down the toilet. Ditto tadpoles. Spare a thought for my neighbour in New Zealand who rang me on my cell phone while we were on holiday, her voice laden with guilt, to inform me that our pet tadpole had passed away while under her care.
Child number two used to have an imaginary mouse friend called Little Grey Mouse, until one day she (the mouse, not the child) rode off into the sunset on a little pink Harley and was never ‘seen’ again.
I have it on good authority that Child number two has genital lice…I mean, sea monkeys in her Christmas stocking this year. Clearly ‘Santa’ was getting desperate for gift ideas and did not think that through (anyone would think I have it in for child number two. I don’t, honestly, but I’m starting to understand why she might be the most Addams-ish of us all).
And…oh, look. There was a Christmas reference in this post after all. Merry Christmas, Seasons’ Greetings and all that, and may your children and your pets survive each other to see next Christmas.
Unless your pets are genital lice.