Nea

Anyone who knows my kids knows that they've long wished for a pet.

Unfortunately they got a pet-averse woman for a mother.

It's probably somewhat cultural and possibly genetic. My parents were not big pet fans. Oh, to be sure we had the goldfish tank where we'd annually throw in the motley assortment of fish won at the ping pong toss booth during our school carnival. If they didn't die within the first week, they seemed to live forever. And there were the few strays we dragged home and begged to keep.

Oh, and the rabbits. Yeah, we had some of those too. My brother started with just one, but we mated her, and once her first round of babies started emerging, there was an explosion of inbred rabbits living under the wood pile next to our house. A lot of incest and debauchery was happening out there.

Those strays I mentioned, well, it was mostly just one stray. Good ole' Pooch! She gave birth to a pile of puppies a few days after we rescued her matted, dread-locked fur bum from a life on the streets. We kids couldn't have been more thrilled. Well, maybe w could have if the Ice Cream Truck had decided to park at our house every day. But it was awesome to finally have a pet of our own.

We actually watched the birth of Pooch's puppies, live and in person. It happened one afternoon in our shed. The experience wasn't nearly as traumatic as it might have been, had we not been first-hand witnesses to the birth of our younger brother not long before. I know birth is wonderful, natural, holy and all. I personally experienced it twice, and those moments are hands down the most intense, memorable, profound moments of my life. They're also the most painful, but that's beside the point. The actual point is, that when I was seven, with no preparation or warning, I was trotted off to a birthing center instead of church one morning. I'd already gotten dressed for church, and was ready to go to, but then we were subjected to this surreal moment as we watched in fascinated, uncomfortable shock our mother blithely squeezed a baby out from between her legs. The baby is fine...he's all grown up now and we've liked him from the start. But that memory isn't one that I've ever appreciated having.

So anyway. Back to pets. We got to keep Pooch till The Day Of The Great Deception. Said Deception involved our parents suddenly giving our beloved dogs away to a woman who showed up at our house to collect them. This was done with little advanced warning. Supposedly she was from some great big farm, where the dogs would go and have a fantastic life with lots of room to run and play and have fun. It was gonna be better than heaven! And we would get to go visit them and we'd all still be best friends forever and ever...

We never saw them again. And fact is, there really aren't a lot of big farms in The OC (if I put it like that, does everyone know I'm referring to Orange County, CA? Cause I'm aware that there's a show called The OC. I haven't personally watched it, but hear it's pretty popular.) I've never known for sure what became of our beloved stray mutt Pooch and her pups.

That was the last pet I had. Till the year 1994, when I got The Most Perfect Cat Who Has Ever Lived for Doc's birthday gift. I hadn't ever had a cat...and this one was as cute as a dandelion puff. We picked him out from a litter the day he was "old enough" to wean. I fell in love. Doc fell completely head-over-heels crazy for the little guy. If he'd been a female I'd have had cause for jealousy! We named him Uno (I came up with the name, and I've never felt more proud! Isn't that the perfect name for a dandelion puff kitten?) and our S.I.N.K. couple status suddenly included outside influences which I just knew (in that women's intuition kind of way) would help prepare us for parenthood...at least a little more than my houseplant was preparing us. I also knew that this kitten would be special.

I was right. For seven happy years Uno was an important part of our lives. But alas, he died prematurely from a metabolic problem. This was a great loss for all of us...but especially Uno's best friend ever, Doc. Doc pined for him. But we never replaced him, because as he matured, it became apparent that I had a cat allergy. My eyes water and itch terribly, congestion builds up, I sneeze and feel draggy and lousy. As this allergic reaction manifested itself only after Uno was firmly established in our family, I dealt with it. I took some drugs to minimize the impact of my allergies, but the fact is, I can't touch cats or be in a place where they are all over everything without it taking a toll.

Though I'm not allergic to them, dogs are worse than cats...in terms of maintenance. A cat can keep itself comfortable for hours days and days on end. (NOTE FROM BLUE: Apparently it's time for me to sleep, because I wrote and posted this entire entry, went to read it, and realized I'd typed the following at this point: "Get a thick skin, because you can't just and fly out of town for every offense." I don't know what that sentence means, nor do I remember typing it. I'm sleep-typing!)

So anyway. Tonight we finally got a pet. Now it's just a loaner...we'll have to give her back some day when her owner, whom I shall nickname "MOUNTAIN MAN" (how's that for a nickname Mountain Man? At least it's not "Dances with Elk" or "babbling mossy river", or "coyote watcher" or "pulls idiot sister out of snowbanks" ) ...where was I? Oh, we'll have to give her back when MM has a place she can be part of. So we have an outdoor cat for now. Her name is Nea, short for "Neapolitan" which is a lovely ice cream flavor I haven't noticed in years, come to think of it. I wonder if they still make the stuff?

The rule is the kids have to feed her and keep her water full. And they have to take turns on this with no fighting. And most importantly, Nea is strictly an outdoor cat. I know that sounds harsh, especially considering the mountains of snow piled up all round our house. We have a 9 foot long ice sickle with a 4-5 inch base, hanging off our rain gutter (all the gutters need to be replaced. Joy!) but that's the condition. She's welcome to stay as long as she likes, but she's an outdoor little feline. She's been on the street most of her life, so I'm sure she'll be okay.

Now that I've appeased the childhood pet gods, I'll be able to rest easier. Till the fairy gods start arranging for us to get a fairy at least.