Tuesday, September 29th, 2009
Persephone
Yesterday the cats, or the dogs brought in a frog. Bats, chickadees, frogs, whatever. (Actually, on my re-read, it occurs that we’re collecting the recipe for MacBeth’s witches brew). As long as they don’t bring in a possum (Travis Whippet tried when I lived in Bellingham). Since I was unsure if it was injured, I went and got the White House Black Market box that the chickadee occupied. Thought better of that. I turned out Ringo, the lonely goldfish into a salad bowl and put frogger in the fishbowl. Then I hauled my Princess self off to the pet supply shop.
First stop: fish department. Purchases – one 10-gallon tank kit, one wrecked car sculpture (in lieu of plastic castle), and one calico goldfish as a companion for Ringo. Calliope, named for my favorite of the muses.
Second stop: Reptile/amphibian department. Purchases – one terrarium, one package dehydrated moss, one water bowl, and one heat light. And a whole slew of flightless fruit flies. Apparently frogs eat flightless fruit flies. These little critters gross me out. Love turtles, love frogs, love snakes. Fruit flies, not so much.
Home. Set up aquarium. Get Ringo and Calliope set up in their new digs. Get the frog (originally named Circe) set up in the terrarium and accidentally dump ten years worth of flightless fruit flies in with her. Fruit flies, not only creepy, but stupid, proceed to drown in the water bowl. Circe immediately burrows into the moss and won’t come out, prompting a name change to Persephone.
Finally, with everyone happily re-homed, it is time to set off for the vet with the three canis whippetus. Morgan needs a rabies shot, Nike needs a liver re-check, and Tara still has a gamey leg. Results – Morgan in perfect health except for his missing “part”. Nike’s liver re-check is NORMAL! Hooray! Major stressor off my life. Tara, however has a hairline fracture of her fifth metatarsal. Bad news for her is that she must spend the next two weeks on crate rest. Bad news for me is that whippets HATE crate rest, and now she’s plotting to kill me. I’m pretty sure there’s a hit out on me.
It’s tough being a princess these days.
October 1st, 2009 at 11:20 pm
By the way, Travis did succeed in bringing a live possum through the dog door (in his mouth) and offering it up as a gift to us – very considerate. Both Trav and the possum ended up just fine.