Category: Pets

All about our pets, and the critters in the yard

Bucket List

Time to check on the bucket list,
To see if I’m getting ahead.
I don’t want to do all of them too soon,
In case completing it means you’re dead.

Visit Australia.
Check.
Multiple times, in fact.  It’s Texas with a funny accent.

Have my salary be my age in thousands.
Check. Uncheck (Thank God.)
This only made sense when I was young. And single. And dogless. And broke.

Visit all fifty States.
Close.
Still have a few to go. Wondering how to get a business need in Alaska.

Go on a cruise.
Check. Check. Check. Check.
Now, a yearly ritual. Apparently, on someone’s else’s list, as well.

Sail from London to New York.
Scheduled.
Someday soon, this will be done. I hope.

Make my own beer.
Check. Uncheck.
Ick. This is really bad beer. Need to try again. Or just drink Guinness.

Make my own soda.
Check.
Sorry about the grape stains on the ceiling. It may have been over-carbonated.

Make my own wine.
On the list.
Have to find grapes. And equipment. And time. And patience.

Marry my soulmate.
Check. Uncheck. Check.
Wow. Divorce really sucks. Luckily, it’s not cheap.

Own a pick-up truck.
Check. Check.
It’s a Texas thing, I think. Or a guy thing.

Ride the train cross-country.
Check. Partially.
Been from Chicago to both coasts. Just not on one trip.

Ride the bus cross-country.
Reconsidered.
See partial check on train trip. Planes are much faster.

Earn one million AAdvantage miles.
Check and a half.
Business travel. Not as fun as it sounds. Trust me.

Trace my family roots.
Pending.
Met some of my relatives. Interest waning. No offense.

Write a novel.
Reconsidered.
A poem a day is hard. Who has time for a novel?

Have a dog.
Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.
May have over-achieved on this one, just a wee bit.
(RIP Sparky. RIP Max. RIP Bubba.)

Visit Ireland.
Hic.
Water of life. Mmmm. Don’t remember a lot of it.

Sing with Paul McCartney.
Check. Check.
OK, everyone else in the stadium was singing, too.

Sing with John Lennon.
Damn.

Write a book.
Check.
It was a Redbook, but it counts.

Run a radio station.
Check.
OK, that wasn’t on the original list, but KNON rocks.
(Also, the station manager knows I really don’t run the station.)

Give a eulogy.
Check. Check.
RIP Rose. RIP Dad.  This one sucked. Twice.

Sleep with a grandmother.
Check.  (Actually, a multitude of checks.)
I may get in trouble for that one.

Rocky Blues

Rocky
Rockford J FosterPuppy

Me nombre es Rocky.
I hope I don’t sound cocky.
I really don’t speak Spanish.
I really just speak Dog.

Please don’t start to panic,
If  Rocky doesn’t sound Hispanic.
A car ran me down last year.
Mom saved me and Dad paid.

Dad said I fought the car like Rocky.
I’m so glad I don’t play hockey.
He would have named me Gordie.
That would  be a terrible Spanish name.

(Mom says I act like Satan, 
But she’s just in one of her moods. )

I don’t quiero Taco Bell,
That’s my third cousin Manuel.
I prefer dog food and shoes.
And pecans. Pecans are tasty.

Pets

I’ve never been able to understand people who think any deceased person can immediately be replaced with a dog. Perhaps it’s because I’ve spent twelve years in and around animal rescue, but the worst possible gift for anyone is a living being that requires constant care and feeding. It is the gift that keeps on costing. (I have five dogs. I love my dogs. The costs never end.)

A pet as a gift makes no sense any time, much less as a distraction from grieving. A pet is a living being with a unique set of needs and a unique personality. It is not a fashion accessory. A pet owner makes a commitment to a pet to care for him for his lifetime. This should not be a commitment by proxy. It should not be an arranged marriage,

Pet owners require the ability to find their pets. Hopefully, this will happen at their local rescue. The human-pet bond is a magical thing, but it cannot be forced or assumed. If you’ve decided to adopt, go to your local Adopt-a-Pet and meet the pets. If your dog is there, you will recognize him. If he’s not, try again the next week. Your dog is waiting for you. However, your friend’s surprise pet is not.

You can divorce a hastily-chosen spouse. You can’t divorce a pet. Divorcing a pet means leaving him at the shelter – which depending on his age, size and breed could be a death sentence.

The next time one of your friends is widowed or divorced or dumped, just drop off another person of the proper sex and age and say “Here’s your new partner. You have to clean him and feed him, but I’m sure you’ll get along fine. Forever.” If you think that seems insane, why would you do it with a dog?