TheAnimals »

Remember the four fish TheOldest got for his birthday a short 3 months ago.  I seem to be keeping with my stellar abilities to keep animals and plants alive.  I thought that since I’ve managed to keep Daisy Doodle Cat alive for almost 10 years now, Chikezie Dog has been ours for almost a year now, and Frosty Cornflakes Cat is goin’ strong, that maybe it made up for the fact that I somehow killed off all our hermit crabs last year.

I knew some of the fish were kinda sickly lookin’.  My husband pointed out one day recently that the gold fish we bought were losing their gold.  One was particularly white.  Enough so that he bet me the time of his death.  I took the bet - right down to 10:30am Christmas morning.  I know, don’t tell my children.

Christmas morn came and went without incident and I was oh, so proud.  I had won the bet and the fish had won it’s life.

Then on Deconstructed - one of our newest fav sci-shows they tore apart a fish filter and talked about the toxicity of ammonia build-up.  Guilted into cleaning out the cloudy fish-home, I set to work on cleaning out a holding tank while their permanent home was scrubbed out and set with water to adjust to room temperature.  I grabbed a jar that I had previously kept flour in (c’mon, I am a clean person - I always bleach everything before it’s ready for human consumption stuff again).  And rinsed it out really good.

Or so I thought.

I made the transfer.

By the next morning the sickliest of them all was on the bottom of the bowl.

And two others were swimming sideways.

So, the good mother that I am told my children and ‘fessed up.  C’mon, you know me better than that.  I stacked dirty dishes in front of the container until they were all dead (or so I thought) so that I could deal with the drama all at once.

Yesterday morning I brought all my children to the kitchen table and gave a talk on the extremely short life span of a gold fish (shut up, you do too know that they only live 3 months).  We looked at the bowl.  We wiped tears away.  My daughter said we should pray for them.  I explained they were through, no prayer’s gonna help ‘em now, but we did thank God for letting us have fish for a time.  Then we discussed mercy killing of the fourth that was now swimming sideways, but Daddy started singing “I’m a survivor” and we (against my will) saved it.  My view is “he’s almost dead, why prolong the pain?”  Yeah, I’m compassionate like that.

We then went and gathered ’round the potty, think: Huxtables, and said our final goodbyes.

Who of Fish, Penny, Oliver, and Pirates of the Caribbean Enemy survived?  Your guess is as good as mine.  TheOldest suggested we call TheSurvivor a combination of all the fish names in memory of the other three.  Sounds good to me.

Live on OliverPennyPiratesOfTheCaribbeanEnemyFish.  Live on.

TheAnimals »

Can you find the cat this time?

How ’bout now?

Are other people’s animals as retarded as ours?

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He/She showed up at our house this weekend.  We ignored him/her.  Well, as best as a bunch of children can ignore a kitten really.  When he/she was still here, and, as TheOldest upon waking the next morning proclaimed “The little kitty stayed!  And now it’s at our window meowing!”  We fed him.  Her.  Whatever.  No, I can’t tell the gender, I’m that animal ignorant.  Really.  No idea if it’s a boy or a girl.  I tried looking there.  It didn’t help me any.  And come to find out, it didn’t much matter when naming it.

And can I just say I’m amazed at the naming process.  How different than when my honey and I used to name animals before we had kids.  Such agony.  Such discussion.  Trying out of names.  Maybe they’ll stick, maybe we’ll change it.  Remember Chikezie? But this time, after much explaining that we didn’t know if this kitty belongs to somebody or not and that we’ll have to give it up if it does and if it shows up missing one day then we know it went back to it’s former home.  (But just between you and me I think it’s a keeper.  It was too skittish, too skinny, and just loves us too much!)  Anyway, we asked the kiddos what they wanted to name it.  And TheOldest said,”How ’bout Cornflakes?”  (c’mon, get it?  he’s quoting from the Frosty the Snowman where they’re trying to name his new wife [who's name incidentally becomes Crystal, not Cornflakes.]  The kids are all throwing out names and one kid says, “Cornflakes?”  and everybody else says, “Nah!”  c’mon, I thought it was a great reference!  Especially to come up with it in September and on his own!)  Anyway, TheMiddlest says, “No, we ought to name him Frosty!”  And so to appease both boys the new kitty’s name became Frosty Cornflakes.  Cracks me up!  And to think the name search took all of 3 minutes.

Yes, ThePrincess did get a say.  She’s in a naming pattern.  Everything has to be named Aisha.  Which might’ve stayed if the boys’ had not been so clever and stolen the spotlight.  Sorry, girl, round one of the quickest wits went to the boys this time.

Cornflakes is doing great.  So skittish.  Wouldn’t even come to us on Sunday.  Chikezie initially pretended that he was going to eat him/her.  And then this happened last night.

Now, Daisy’s a different story.  But she always is.  Lots of noise.  Lots of bullying.  Lots of makin’ sure Cornflakes knows his/her place.

As far as the kiddos ~ it’s awesome.  We haven’t had a kitten since we’ve had kids.  Daisy was almost 3 when TheOldest was born.  I had forgotten how much fun they are.  Last night while I was trying to work on the rag seat for the rocking chair renovation she/he kept attacking the strings I was trying to braid.  ThePrincess hauls the kitten around just like little girls should - in that almost drag/carry/hold “I’m gonna love him, and squeeze him, and make him mine” kinda way.  And tonight she was right at home smack in the middle of their school work.  Laying on top of their worksheets and batting at their pencils.

Too much fun!  Welcome to our crazy little life - Frosty Cornflakes!

TheAnimals »

we never claimed she was smart.

  funny, maybe.  

 smart… um, maybe not so much.

TheAnimals »

yeah, chikezie the dog had a hard time too.

TheAnimals »

no, i’m not confused.  and i don’t mean who i’m votin’ for.

bilbo baggins just didn’t stick.  and besides, i was kinda concerned about yelling out “BILBO!” in a crowd of people.  i can’t help it.  so, we’re back to name lookin’.  got any ideas?

my husband has taken to calling him chikezie.  and although it has nothing to do with his personality what so ever, it somehow fits him amazingly well.  and then this morning my honey said, “he kinda has the personality of danny noriega.”  yes, he does. 

welcome to our messed up home, chikezie noriega.

TheAnimals »

our new puppy dog!

david, you’re the winner!  however, since you’re not winning an actual anything, you just get the fame for winning.

there’s a big long story to go with this, but i don’t really feel like going into it right now.  let’s just say my honey and i have talked for a while about getting a doggy for the kiddos.  they really need one.  and i want that dynamic in their lives and my home.  there was never a time in my childhood that i was without at least one pet and there was always a dog in the mix.  i want that for them.  and so, we embark on a new chaotic, yet joyful adventure. 

so far, the kids love him.  understatement.  everytime my girl sees him she says, “him ours.  him our new puppy.  i yub him.  dat pwetty new puppy is ours.”  and he really likes them.  he has fit right in, lovin’ all the craziness and, like mama and daddy, enjoyed the quiet after bedtime for all the littles.  daisy, the cat hates him.  understatement.  he likes her.  at least likes chasing her down.  oh well.  she’ll adjust.  and when i added changing cat litter, taking a dog out to potty, and seperating cat and dog to my morning must-do list i wondered what on earth i had done.  but i know, like every other change we’ll find our new normal.  we’ll love the sweet times and endure laugh at the hard times. 

so celebrate our new little one with us!