Romance
In August of 1996 I was living on my own for the first time in my life. Before that I had always had roomates. Back then it was just me, George and Gracie. And Jezebel, Jaws and Lucky (so ok, not completely alone!). Let me just say it's wonderful! Not that I would trade what I have now, but living by yourself is great!
August of that year, I decided at the very last minute that I wanted to go to Pennsic, the yearly War between the East Kingdom and the Midrealm (SCA stuff). While there I ran into a really shy, sweet guy named Robert. He kept sitting all by himself outside his tent and I kept dragging him out to "play" with the rest of us. He had been in my Barony for years and I had seen him around, but he was sort of reserved and, well, grouchy looking. He never smiled and he spoke loudly and was sort of intimidating so even though I had seen him around I really "met" him at Pennsic. Where he turned out to be a really nice, but shy, guy. Since shy is often interpreted as being bitchy, grouchy, stuck up (let's see, what else was I called in high school? ;-) it suddenly made sense. In the middle of the week a friend told me to be nice to him because he liked me. I had been clueless up until then!
So Monday after Pennsic, I called him up and we went out to Barnes and Noble so I could tell him that I didn't want to date him. No offence to him, but I had been dumped 3 months earlier and was still hearing the crappy things my ex was saying about me. I wanted to be on my own. He sighed. And said ok.
So two days later I got turned down for a job I wanted. For some reason I called Robert to unload. I particularly complained that I had been on a diet for so long that there was nothing in the house to pig out on. We talked. We hung up. Twenty minutes later, Robert showed up at my door with two pints of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fugde Brownie Ice Cream. And here's the kicker; he felt that since he hadn't called first he should just drop off the ice cream and go! Of course I didn't let him. I was competely blown away. It was just so nice and thoughtful, and nothing like what I had become used to lately! So a week later we were dating. Two months later we were engaged and on May 3, 1997 we got married at my church, St. George's in Maplewood NJ.
George
George was a gift from God. Or whoever you want to believe: life, Dao, karma, whatever. He appeared just before an incredibly low point of my life and he made me feel loved and needed through the whole time I was feeling just the opposite.
One day in February, 1996, one of my roomies, Gary, went out the door to work, came back in a minute later and asked me why there was a dog chained to the front porch. It turned out one of the upstairs neighbors had seen him running in the street, hadn't wanted him to get hit by a car and so had chained him to our pourch until she could get back from class and deal with him. The note she had written was found later. George was a mess. He was about 25 pounds less than he is now.
So I went to work and was miserable. I thought of that sweet face all day long. In my mind he was "George" already. I came home from work and told my roomies that I was taking him. Gary already had two cats and like he said, couldn't exactly tell me no. My other roommate didn't mind and my soon-to-be ex was not happy, but said ok. It took two days to track down where he was because New Brunswick doesn't have it's own shelter. When I saw him in the cage he recognized me and jumped up to say hello!
So over the next few months as I was laid off from my job, dumped by someone who told me that everything that had gone wrong was my fault, as my grandfather had a major stroke and I had to move, George was there. Actually, he was *really* there. He shadowed my every step! If I went to the bathroom, he lay outside the door until I came out. He moped around when I wasn't there and perked up when I came home at the end of the day. As Gary said, he really was the best thing that had happened to me
He's not as needy now, but still follows me around the house. Just not so close. And luckily he loves Robert! And vice versa (I get jealous sometimes!).
Kitties
Tas, Gracie and Oscar are our three "kittens". I got Gracie to keep George company. My sister found herself watching over a sort of homeless, pregnant cat last year. The end of May, '96, Gracie and her siblings were born. A few months later she came home and proceeded to scare George. I was afraid he would step on her, he was jumping so much! They're ok now. When they're not snuggling up on a couch together he chases her (and everyone else) around the house. Unfortunately, Gracie is going through that adolescent moody phase. Well, she's a bitch. But she's getting better.
Tasselhof, or Tas, is Robert's cat. He's about 4 (?). I sometimes call him Tas the Cannibal Cat. Wanna know why? This story is not for the sqeamish! Like I mentioned before, Robert is a woodworker. Well, one day he had a friend over. He's used to working alone and got distracted and reached over the table saw a little too close. Lost the side of the tip of his left thumb. Well, he and his friend ran to the hospital (luckily, this was way before I met him!). The doctor asked if they had the tip, but they hadn't even thought of it in the excitement. So a few thousand dollars and a skin graft from the side of his hand later and he has a lopsided thumb with an interesting thumbprint! (Robert wants everyone to know that when they were about to take the skin off his hand for the graft he told the doctor to "measure twice, cut once" Yuch). But back to Tas. When they got back they found out they had left the door to the shop open. All over the blood and sawdust were little kitty footprints. And no thumb tip was ever found. Robert likes to say that that's when Tas started being more affectionate to him!
Oscar is our newest addition. In July, 1997, I went to the pound with my sister so she could get another kitten for her house. While there I saw this big, black cat. And I love big cats! So I went home, thought about him for a month and the end of August when I found out he was still there, I went back and picked him up. He is just the sweetest thing! Don't tell the other two, but he is slowly becomming my favorite cat! But he has a story. Turns out Oscar has something wrong with his teeth. We knew there was a problem when we noticed that he drooled all the time and had horrid breath! So we took him to the vet and it turns out he's plaque intolerant or something like that. He's only two years old, but 4 of his teeth had already fallen out on their own. At the dentist, they took out 12 more! So now poor Oscar has 12 teeth left. He is back eating hard food (how I don't know!) and he is the sweetest, cuddliest cat around.
The sad update is that Oscar is now our only cat :-( Gracie was jealous of Bridget and kept peeing on her things. She is now happily living in a baby-free house. Tas got out of the houe more and more after Bridget was born. He didn't seem to mind her, but with a baby to care for, it was hard to keep him from escaping out. He usually came back. One time he didn't. After a few weeks and no Tas, a neighbor asked if that had been our orange cat dead in the street :-(
Vicious Fishes
In the Beginning there was Jesus and Jezebel. Well, actually, we can go back farther than that. I had Jerry and Izzie first. Short for Jeremiah and Isaiah. No, I wasn't a Christian back then, but I have always been interested in religion (Christianity and Chinese Buddhism were my favorites at the time). I was taking a class on the Old Testament at the time, so that's where the names came from. Unfortunately, Jerry and Izzie stayed in my step mom's tank over one winter break. One day my little sister's friend (about age 7 at the time) came over and turned the heat on the tank all the way up. Before any of us noticed, all the fish in the tank were floating to the top.
Enter Ag and Au. Two more feeder gold fish like Jerry and Izzie were (10 cents each). And like their predecessors, one was gold and one silver (if you get it you'll know which was which). Ag and Au lived happily through a few years of college. Their early demise was due to an unfortunate inncident in which they were housed in a dirty container while I washed their bowl. The container had facial peel residue in it, which I didn't realize until they started floating and I started searching my brain for the reason. Sorry guys!
Now we come to Jesus and Jezebel. I was ready for more fish so my little sister went out and bought me Jesus. Being about 11 at the time, she had to buy an impressive fish! He cost all of 75 cents and was one of those see through fish. My first thought was "Jesus, what an ugly fish!". I didn't tell her that though, so his name became Jesus. But I had always had two fish, so I went out and got a 10 cent, gold feeder fish and named her Jezebel.
So then I bought Jaws. Named as such because part of his fin was ripped off and he looked like a miniature shark when I saved him from the feeder tank. Then came Lucky. Named so because I bought him when I was applying to graduate school. Well, he worked. I got in! Of course I later dropped out, but that wasn't his fault. Then Robert and I moved my fish to his house (before the wedding) and we set them up in a 40 gallon hexagon he had. But wait, there's one more death! Robert has a thing for fancy fish. He went out and bought two ugly, swollen belly, gold fish which he named Ozzie and Harriet. About $10 each (a bit more than mine!). A week or so later Harriet is found floating and eaten and still vaguely alive. Ugh.
But then the day before Halloween, 1997, Jezebel was found lying on the bottom of the tank. When we went to scoop her out she jumped so we put her in a bucket with water from the tank overnight (so the others wouldn't bother her, and in case she was contagious) but all to no avail. The other fish are fine so we don't know what the problem was. Maybe she just got old. I had had her for about 5 years and of course I can't tell how old she was when I got her. So she was buried on Halloween in the back yard. Now it's Jaws, Lucky and Ozzie. And you know what I love about feeders? They keep getting bigger and bigger! Soon they'll be big enough for an entree! (Just kidding guys!)
Oh, and as of the summer of 1998, we have Nellie! (as in nervous!). A plain old feeder goldfish grown big. Though unlike the other ones, her tail is a small, compact one. I got her from my step-mom who moved to a new office and got rid of her fish. Nellie (she was unamed before we got her) was lonely swimming around in her tank by herself. So now she's one of 4.
There is one interesting thing though. We've never had one of those swollen belly fish before, so this is new to us, but Ozzie seems to be full of air! He is always floating on top of the tank, and has to make an effort to swim down. We're not sure what to do (and I somehow think squishing the air out would be bad!) so we just keep an eye on him and make sure he's just floating, and not "floating"! But he's been doing it for months, so . . .
This page hosted by |
He was covered in mange spots. It was a cold morning and he was shaking and pathetic and the kind of life form your mothering instinct kicks in for. I took him in the basement, ran out to get a can of dogfood for him, sat and pet him for awhile and then watched as the animal people my roomates had called came and took him away.
