All creatures great and small . . .

It started with a cat. My very first pet I remember was an orange cat named Pouffy. Yes, I was only about 5 when we adopted or obtained or maybe she found us, and I was allowed to name her anything I wanted to. I loved her so much.

I loved her enough that I put her in a doll clothes suitcase and followed my dad around as he hollered, "Pouffy . . . here kitty, kitty, kitty." It took him a minute to realize that the angry meowing and hissing was coming from my pink suitcase I was carrying around as I followed him, which would explain why the sound was always so close. But I digress.

We brought Sherman Tank into our family when I was about 6 or so (I'm guessing at ages, I have no idea). He was a 180 pound black Great Dane who loved my sister and I so much he let us ride him and when he was tired of us pulling on his ears or messing with him, he would put a large front leg over the top of us and lay his head down on us. What a great dog.

When we moved to California in the late 70's we had a little Yorkshire Terrier named Mr. Bojangles. He was adorable. We carted him around. We took him for long walks and the grey cat, Sammy, used to bat him across the floor as she stalked him like a lion. He was so good natured, with his tongue all curled up, he panted away and waited for someone to give him some love, even if it was a large grey cat.

I had a series of hamsters, one in particular stands out. His name was Big Al after the bear in the Country Bear Jamboree. I adored him. I even gave him haircuts (he had long white fur and some black on his face). He wasn't the smartest hamster ever. He would put all of his treasures, food, toys, everything in the attachable closed-in running wheel. Then he'd get in and run away . . . food, toys, and what-nots flying through the air and raining down on him as he worked out. Silly rodent.

We won't go into the mice. Suffice it to say we bought our mom home 2 mice. Since she collected the collectible kind we thought she'd like to have some real ones. Except they weren't two girls like the pet store said. Nope . . . and Brenda and I decided to raise bunches of mice and sell them to the pet store where they would be sold as pets and not snake food. It got ugly. It got smelly. We gave up, selling the whole mess back to the pet store. Sorry baby micies. <sigh>

Okay, to recap since then since this blog post could go on and on and you would sigh and think this woman is nuts about animals and when will it end . . . I've had dogs, cats, parakeets, cockateils, hamsters, mice, guinea pigs, rabbits, rats, and chinchillas. I also count my outside wild friends as pets and love to feed the birds, the squirrels, even the wild rat who sneaks out during the day to steal some of the blue jays' peanuts.

I have a wish list of animals I want to adopt but the state of California says, no-no. I would dearly love a hedgehog. Sooooooo dang cute, especially the babies. I would really like a ferret, but nope, even the hubby is saying no on that. We saw some in Arizona once and he wrinkled his nose and said they smelled funny. Sheesh.

I also have a list of animals banned by the HOA. Chickens! Oh my goodness, I want a chicken really bad. Actually a herd or no, a flock, a bunch? Anyway, I want several. They come in so many pretty colors and they lay eggs and cluck and are super fun to play with. And a goat . . . goats make me laugh. They make me want to hug them for being so naughty. I love the little pygmy ones the best. I think I would also like a tiny burro and a pony and a llama. They would just be fun to have . . . oh and a pot belly pig would be the best. I think David is secretly happy the HOA is strict about no farm animals. Darn it.

In the meantime, my animal population is down to 5 critters (a dog, a cat, a rabbit, a chinchilla, and a rat) and 3 people living in the house. According to the other occupants of the house there should be a more equal ratio of people to pets. Darn it. I only have one of everything and they want friends. Maybe I'll sneak home another one when no one's looking. An orange kitty? We've always had an orange kitty. I'll name her Pouffy.