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May 24, 2004 Not to say I don’t have animals that aren’t pleasing to the eye. But currently I have a fat dog with bad teeth, a dog with a broken jaw which is afraid of his own shadow that pees on himself when he’s scared and a one-eyed canine that belches and farts. What a lovely bunch of lookers I’ve got. But I am in a wheelchair and I never worry about a robber or other ne’er-do- well while the dogs are around. Duncan, the one- eyed dog, has been trying to catch a mouse that’s under the kitchen sink; not so much catch as kill. For three days she’s been waiting for that mouse to make a mistake so she can jump it. My roommate asked if Duncan would kill a mouse. Of course; Duncan’s all for survival of the fittest or fattest or whatever. That mouse wouldn’t stand a chance. We’d be lucky if there was some fur left when she got through. I’ve always sort of collected animals that nobody else wanted. Over the years, I’ve had a Himalayan mini-lop rabbit with a thyroid condition (a polite way of saying she was fat) that attacked anyone who got near her food bowl; a grouchy old cat with cancer and leukemia; a rescue dog whose former owners burned all the fur off her back with oil; a dog who wasn’t overly blessed with intelligence (he really wasn’t very bright); a guinea pig that screamed if you touched her; a cat that knocked (not scratched) on the door when he wanted in and I had a cat that went into heat one Spring and never came out. She was kinda nuts. On the other hand, I had a cat that enjoyed taking a bath and a rabbit that was litter box trained but God forbid there was anything or anybody between her and the litter box when the time came. She may well have been the original “Don’t mess with me, fellas” of the animal kingdom. Maybe I should just go to the animal shelter and say, “What’s your worst looking animal? Dog, cat, male, female, doesn’t matter, I’ll take it.” I’ll try to give a rundown of these fine, noble beasts. Bowzer, not known for his mental prowess, was my first dog. At least he didn’t leave the yard; the only thing he learned in seven years. I didn’t have Leon the dog very long; he chased one car too many and didn’t live to tell the tale. The delivery driver for Deluxe Cleaners ran over him--doesn’t take a whole bunch of smarts to get killed. Grandma and Grandpa Buchanan apparently agonized over how they were going to break the news to us kids. Guess you can’t really preface it with Leon— truck—Leon’s retarded—any questions? Minerva, the one-eyed cat, wasn’t very attractive but had three really pretty kittens; of course she almost baked them when she tried to hide them on the roof—so much for superior maternal instincts. Chief actually looked good and was reasonably intelligent. Lest I get used to it, I got Evelyn. That cat that was scared of everything that moved. After Evelyn ran off, I got Eldon. He was pretty enough but what a grump! Even as a kitten he was always in a bad mood. When I found Elsworth in a dumpster at work and brought him home, Eldon was elated. Elsworth followed Eldon everywhere, which thrilled Eldon to no end. Whenever you saw Eldon, there, about a foot behind, was little Elsworth, tagging along like a mostly unwanted little brother. If he could speak, you know Elsworth would be screaming “Wait for me!” Elsworth loved to eat. Didn’t take him long to figure out one of the neighbor ladies shook a box of cat food to summon her cat; when he’d hear that, Elsworth ate out. Over the years Eldon and Elsworth bonded and became pretty good buddies. About that time, I got Eleanor, the guinea pig. Her fur was completely red except for one patch of white on her head that looked like a Mohawk. She didn’t want anyone to touch her and sort of screamed if someone did. The one and only time Eldon stuck his paw in her cage, she bit him. She was small but fearless. She’s the type that would hit the meanest guy in prison on the first day with a chair and just dare anybody to mess with her--small but wiry and deadly. Then I got Eponine, the rabbit. “Eppy” was fairly normal but don’t let her catch you touching her food bowl. It didn’t matter if you were her best friend, she’d turn on you in a heartbeat. The people at one of the local produce stores used to save carrot tops for her. She really liked those in her nighttime feeding. Although, Eppy didn’t need a reason to eat; she was more the type that would eat anything that didn’t eat her first. Her most favorite thing during the summer was to lay on one of the air conditioner floor vents. I guess with all that fur it felt good but when you’d pick her up to put her in her cage at night, her underside would be cold as ice. A rabbit’s life expectancy isn’t very long so when Eponine passed away, I got Emily. Emily was a much more relaxed sort but get out of her way when it’s time to use the litter box. The cats would hurry up and finish their business if they heard Emily coming, which wasn’t too hard; she wasn’t able to get traction very well on hardwood floors. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a cat try to hurry up and pee because the end of the world as they know it is coming. Emily, like time, waits for no man; she’ll say when it’s her turn and her turn is now! I did find out cats do a much better job of raising rabbits than the other way around. If a cat used the clean litter box, Eponine wanted no part of it whereas Emily (pardon the expression) didn’t give a crap; just get out of her way. Henry and Harry were two birds that didn’t make it. Their mother was killed while they were still in the nest. I took them home, dug bugs and worms, fed them wet bread and gave them eyedroppers full of water. A baby bird is 50% mouth and not very patient. Especially Harry; when he was ready to eat, the whole world knew. You just haven’t lived until a baby bird walks out, squawks, and opens his mouth; not a lot of guesswork there. They had their own room and the other animals left them alone except for wishing they’d shut up. When they passed away, I buried them in the back yard which has become sort of a pet cemetery. Next came Tico. He was a puppy when I got him but grew up to be a 90 pound Wolfhound/German Shepherd. But he loved small animals, especially kittens. He did watch out for the other animals, though, kind of like everybody’s big brother. Elsworth started a fight with another cat he couldn’t finish so I let Tico out to be the arbiter. For a brief moment the other cat thought about standing his ground but then he got a good look at what was coming at him and realized the best thing to do was probably run away. One night coming home from work I thought I hit a kitten with my car and brought her home to make sure she was all right. In her short life, she learned that dogs were to be gotten away from so when Tico came up to her basket, she freaked. His head was bigger than her whole body but no matter how much she fussed, fumed and clawed, he wasn’t going anywhere. He finally got close enough to lick her and afterward, Tico and Llamah got along fine. Once an animal has a name, it’s yours forever. You’ve just adopted a pet or they’ve adopted you or however you want to look at it. A little over three years ago, I had a stroke, but I still have an affinity for less- than-perfect animals. The three beauties I have are nice and tame around me but a robber would have to be a damned fool to try and get in. They bark and grouse if anybody else gets near the house. Got animals (not perfect, please) you need to get rid of? ------------ About the author: Jim Deaton came to full-time writing of necessity following a paralytic stroke several years ago. Published works have been articles, fictional as well as historical. A man of few words, he feels the reader’s imagination should not be discounted but should be stimulated. History and comedy became his favorite genres while studying Theatre at UA-Little Rock and Northern Kentucky University. Visit: http://www.writerskeep.com/writers/deaton_james/home.htm http://geocities.com/thepinkchameleon/short_stories/deaton_godliness.html http://writers.net/writers/29855 Email: jsdeaton2003@yahoo.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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