Everything Fuzzy

Animals. I've never been a lover. Smelly, needy, sheddy, snippy, bitey. I'll pass. However, this summer in search of employment I've taken on a few animal sitting jobs...disaster? Not a chance. I've just got to be tough, you know? Gain a little poochie respect. Easy. The first little old man to test my nuturing skills is Toto the Toy Poodle. Toto the white dog. Turns out it was love at first sight for Toto and me. Small, snuggly, non-smelly, lovey, and low maintence. Our week together has never had a lonely moment. The little girls can't get enough of him, and so he's been spoiled as they fight about who gets to pet him and where he snuggles up on the bed. He leads such a hard life...

Little old man #2: Blacky. The black dog. Go figure. The creativity we use to name animals is overwhelming. He has that shaggy crazy hair that falls over his eyes and reminds you of your teenage brother. Those eyebrow sprouts get you though- you know the ones I'm talking about- they make every animal cuter. He listens and doesn't move to fast, which is exactly what an animal should be, so naturally we became fast friends. He has quirky habits like peeing on the same set of trees in the same order every time I let him out. He's easily distracted by a dog treat or two and instills a level 0 on the panic scale.

Little boy: Sammy. Ugly, buzz cut, can jump to my belly button, and runs about 3 times faster than me. Not a good lister and likes to eat his leash. We have yet to bond.

Cats: Boo. I have no idea if they even have names. They seem so, hmmm, manipulative? It's that sneaky walk where their shoulders almost roll over the ground in that tone that says, "I can outrun you. You will never find me again. I will get you in so. much. trouble." You go to pick them up and they hiss and scratch and bite. Petting them is even risky business, they will turn on you, the little boogers! Cats seem more for kicking than petting.

Chinchilla: Don't actually know what this is. He hides.

Hamster: Little Maxy has only peeked out once, who wants a pet that hides? Can't let him out, because one wrong move...let's just say I lost our kindergarten bunny. He doesn't smell, so I count my blessings.

Fish: I saved him for last. I killed him. Beautiful Mr. Beyttie the Betta fish (again, I know, the sheer creativity). My first Eryn-only pet. He lasted about 3 months, a cross country road trip, a heartbreak, a failed class, lots of skipped class, and very brightly colored rocks. I was kind of a hypochondriac on his behalf...I was always diagnosing him with a new illness, he never seemed quite "himself." And then I watched him die and all my worst fears were realized. Were the silver patches really a skin disease? Was the cloudy water an early sign of parasites? Were those funny red spots on his eyes premature blindness? Was floating upside down suddenly a sign of DEATH? And no one believed me...