Day 16: Animals

I have said in the past (high school?) that I wanted to work with animals because they weren't as difficult as people.  I've never wanted to be a veterinarian though.  People always thought I did.

I love animal communities and the different rules for different species.  I used to volunteer at a wildlife rescue & education facility and it was pretty important to get clued in on those sorts of things.  Like, don't smile at the monkeys.  It was my most favorite job.

I am thankful for the animals in my life too.  Some I can't think about without tearing up.  One was taken way too early, inflicted suddenly by a stupid genetic disorder.  He might very well have been my first love.  Dang it, I loved that cat.  As a wee kitten I named him Alexander the Great.  I called him Alex.  Or Lou.  Don't ask, cause I don't know.

My sweet Lou

My pups weren't really supposed to be my pups.  They were about 3 years old and we were watching them for a weekend while their foster home was unavailable (they were in a foster home until they would be adopted).  Well, that weekend turned into the rest of their lives.  Chewy and Leia were Keeshound/Aussie mix, brother and sister.  They were quite the pair.  When we lived on property one would keep watch toward the house while the other would dig holes under the fence.  If they were successful they would run the countryside all day long and come home ravaged with burs and foxtails.  I'd spend hours picking foxtails out of their skin, digging under all that thick, heavy coat.  Then I'd get down in between their toes to get the foxtails out that wanted to burrow into their webbing.  The memories are vast and wonderful, I'm crying right now just thinking of them and how perfect our time was together.

Bounding out of the dog house E built for them, with their summer hair cut

Sunny is my adopted cat.  She was my brother's and became mine when he moved out.  She loves the sunny spots on the floor (her namesake) and is highly opinionated.  She can detect a warm, empty lap from across the room and if it's yours you're in for a furring.  Hopefully you're not wearing dark colors.  She's our oldster, about 22 and still plugging along.  We love our Bun (don't laugh, I come up with strange nick names for my loved ones).

What's up Bun

Jazzy Belle is a result of dirty deeds.  We found her outside on a freezing night at my brother-in-law's house. She was too stinking adorable and didn't seem to belong to anyone....so we bundled her into a turkey roasting pan and whisked her away to our home.  After we fed her she she became revitalized.  We put up "Found Kitten" signs for....6 hours.  Then decided we were gonna go ahead and keep her.  STOLEN!!!  We love our Jazz.

Bean