Fantastic Beasts and how we live with them
- Thread starter CatrionaGrace
- Start date
You don't have to share anything you don't want to share. Just sayin'.
My background is also ag, and I am familiar with the comfortable contempt ranchers and farmers can harbor for people who treat their pets like children. However, people do feel that way for various reasons, and it is unkind to introduce contempt, let alone violence, into a thread that is devoted to "favorite dog stories, horse adventures, catastrophes, goat ropes, bird-brained experiences, and similar tales of entities with tails." If you want to start a thread about animal predation on livestock, I will join in, but this is not the place to do it.
Our Giant Puppy demanded a walk at the riverside dog park this evening. I gave in and we had a lovely time except for me forgetting the mosquito juice and getting bitten in places I'd forgotten I could get bitten. The darn things can drill right through denim. The grasses are covered in pollen and by the walk's end, Giant Puppy was covered in yellow. A romp in the river took care of it.
Love animals, don't spend nearly as much time around them as I'd like and don't currently own any. I have a couple of special beasts in my life that belong to family members, I'm always happy when I get to see them, but there isn't that deep bond you get with your own bespoke creature.
I've always been a cat person first, and I've had two. They were both known as Mons, which is a name and also a term my dialect uses for tomcats. They were some good little dudes. I think their stories deserve to be told.
Mons the First was a farm cat, my family got him when I was in my early teens somewhere. My sister and I had pestered our parents for a cat for ages, and when a local litter was put up for adoption we leaped on it. He was twelve weeks or so when we brought him home, and he very quickly became the darling of the household. He was a great guy, this very beautiful short-haired tabby thing. He had tons of attitude and personality, tiny bit antisocial maybe. He created so many wonderfully hilarious moments, like waging war on a dollhouse or hiding under a rug thinking no one would notice the massive bump. He was quite affectionate, and would sleep directly on top of my face (which was kind of a bummer since I turned out to be allergic to cats).
And he was recklessly brave, too. I didn't see this myself, but apparently he once climbed a sheer wall to get at a hawk, only changing his mind when the sheer size of the bird became clear to him.
Mons II was my ex-girlfriend's cat originally, I knew him since he was small enough to sleep in my shoe. It was love at first sight for me. We broke up but stayed friends, which meant I got to see the cat occasionally, which I'm happy about. I got to watch him grow from a tiny nugget to a handsome young specimen. My ex eventually couldn't keep him anymore, at which point I adopted him. It was that or putting him down, and no fucking way was I letting that happen. He was a huge white fluffy thing with magnificent blue eyes, most beautiful cat I ever saw, and the most affectionate one I've known. He was incredibly close with his people, and would follow us anywhere, like a dog. His overall behavior was pretty doglike, which maybe isn't surprising since he grew up surrounded by them. I've never gotten love like I got from that cat. Just a very special guy, and sorely missed. He lit up our world for something like seven years, and when the time came to say goodbye it was very hard on all of us.
He had this infuriating habit of sneaking into people's garages and get locked inside, then he'd sit in this tiny window at the front, statuesque as you please, expressing "I didn't do anything, get me home".
And we had rats, for a time. Fun little creatures. Too bitey for my tastes, but fun.
I've always been a cat person first, and I've had two. They were both known as Mons, which is a name and also a term my dialect uses for tomcats. They were some good little dudes. I think their stories deserve to be told.
Mons the First was a farm cat, my family got him when I was in my early teens somewhere. My sister and I had pestered our parents for a cat for ages, and when a local litter was put up for adoption we leaped on it. He was twelve weeks or so when we brought him home, and he very quickly became the darling of the household. He was a great guy, this very beautiful short-haired tabby thing. He had tons of attitude and personality, tiny bit antisocial maybe. He created so many wonderfully hilarious moments, like waging war on a dollhouse or hiding under a rug thinking no one would notice the massive bump. He was quite affectionate, and would sleep directly on top of my face (which was kind of a bummer since I turned out to be allergic to cats).
And he was recklessly brave, too. I didn't see this myself, but apparently he once climbed a sheer wall to get at a hawk, only changing his mind when the sheer size of the bird became clear to him.
Mons II was my ex-girlfriend's cat originally, I knew him since he was small enough to sleep in my shoe. It was love at first sight for me. We broke up but stayed friends, which meant I got to see the cat occasionally, which I'm happy about. I got to watch him grow from a tiny nugget to a handsome young specimen. My ex eventually couldn't keep him anymore, at which point I adopted him. It was that or putting him down, and no fucking way was I letting that happen. He was a huge white fluffy thing with magnificent blue eyes, most beautiful cat I ever saw, and the most affectionate one I've known. He was incredibly close with his people, and would follow us anywhere, like a dog. His overall behavior was pretty doglike, which maybe isn't surprising since he grew up surrounded by them. I've never gotten love like I got from that cat. Just a very special guy, and sorely missed. He lit up our world for something like seven years, and when the time came to say goodbye it was very hard on all of us.
He had this infuriating habit of sneaking into people's garages and get locked inside, then he'd sit in this tiny window at the front, statuesque as you please, expressing "I didn't do anything, get me home".
And we had rats, for a time. Fun little creatures. Too bitey for my tastes, but fun.
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Hooray, a pets thread! I've mentioned Mittens in other threads before. She's muh queen. I'm not sure if I ever told the story of how we became acquainted, so I'll relate that now:
It was late at night, probably midnight or so. I walked to the corner store to get some snacks, and on the way back, I saw this cat cross a 4-lane road, making a beeline towards me. She started rubbing my legs and circling my ankles, a very pretty tortoiseshell cat. I love cats, so I pet her for a minute and gave some scritches and scratches before going on my way.
But she followed me all the way home. When I opened the door, she dashed inside. I was like, okay, guess I'll hang out with this cat for a bit while I watch shows and enjoy the snacks. A little while later I put her outside, but she refused to leave. I gave up and opened the door again, and she dashed inside once more. We had two other cats at the time, so I set up a makeshift litter box and put out some food and water in my place in the basement. She slept on my bed that night.
The next day I called animal control and the humane society and left my number and a description of the cat, and I put up a found poster at the store, but no one ever claimed her. And so we've been pals ever since. She was already fully grown, so I don't know her exact age, but this happened when I was only 24 years old, just a young man in what feels like a lifetime ago. She is likely already into her 20s now herself.
I was just looking for some pictures to share, and wow do I ever have a lot of cat pics. Here's a couple nice ones from our balcony adventures. She looks so content when she's out there.
It was late at night, probably midnight or so. I walked to the corner store to get some snacks, and on the way back, I saw this cat cross a 4-lane road, making a beeline towards me. She started rubbing my legs and circling my ankles, a very pretty tortoiseshell cat. I love cats, so I pet her for a minute and gave some scritches and scratches before going on my way.
But she followed me all the way home. When I opened the door, she dashed inside. I was like, okay, guess I'll hang out with this cat for a bit while I watch shows and enjoy the snacks. A little while later I put her outside, but she refused to leave. I gave up and opened the door again, and she dashed inside once more. We had two other cats at the time, so I set up a makeshift litter box and put out some food and water in my place in the basement. She slept on my bed that night.
The next day I called animal control and the humane society and left my number and a description of the cat, and I put up a found poster at the store, but no one ever claimed her. And so we've been pals ever since. She was already fully grown, so I don't know her exact age, but this happened when I was only 24 years old, just a young man in what feels like a lifetime ago. She is likely already into her 20s now herself.
I was just looking for some pictures to share, and wow do I ever have a lot of cat pics. Here's a couple nice ones from our balcony adventures. She looks so content when she's out there.
I did have the audacity of saying I have a parrot without paying the tax and sharing pictures of him. Allow me to redeem myself for this affront.
Yeti and Mouse the Mule are currently inhabiting the pasture land around our house. We just bought the lot to the north and the neighbor bought the lots to the west, and the equines volunteered to create a defensible space around our properties by eating down the fuel load.
I've had numerous pets in my life, but if I had to choose one I recall most of all, perhaps the one whose passing was the hardest, though every pet takes a piece of one's heart, I would choose Julia, a/k/a "Bimbo", the sweetest most loving dog with whom I ever had the privilege of sharing existence. Gone now for more than 30 years, but it seems like yesterday.
I stayed up late last night and slept in today. I only got up early in the morning to feed thebdogs and let them dontheir business in the yard. Thn went backnto sleep for like 5 more hours.
The dogs came in to check on me periodically
. Like "she never sleeps this long.... is she ok?"
One came over to the side of the bed, sniffed my face and licked my hand and left. The other came in and jumped up on the bed, stood over me for a moment then left.
They repeated this until i got up.
The dogs came in to check on me periodically
. Like "she never sleeps this long.... is she ok?"One came over to the side of the bed, sniffed my face and licked my hand and left. The other came in and jumped up on the bed, stood over me for a moment then left.
They repeated this until i got up.
This is Kenya, A Swedish Vallhund. She was my constant companion for almost 15 years. During that time, we traveled tens of thousands of miles together. She died fourteen months ago and I miss her more than I can say. She is wearing her summer plumage in this photo. In the winter, all the extra hair made her look twice this size.
How are you doing?I stayed up late last night and slept in today. I only got up early in the morning to feed thebdogs and let them dontheir business in the yard. Thn went backnto sleep for like 5 more hours.
The dogs came in to check on me periodically
One came over to the side of the bed, sniffed my face and licked my hand and left. The other came in and jumped up on the bed, stood over me for a moment then left.
They repeated this until i got up.
Most recent COVID test was negative (yay!), but still coughing like im hacking up a lung. Worse at night so i dont get a deep sleep...
But otherwise, i feel and am doing well! Thanks for asking!
An oldy: my Foo Dogs.
Okay, my oldest daughter and our German Shepherd-Husky mix.
Okay, my oldest daughter and our German Shepherd-Husky mix.
One of the ranch puppies came home with us night before last. Brodie is Bernese Mountain dog and mountain cur mix, which I guess makes him a Curnese Mountain dog. We hope Bernese size will be mitigated by a smaller breed father and by Brodie being the runt of the litter. He's only seven weeks old, but has been eating solid food for several weeks and has adjusted to his new situation with barely a bit of fuss. His mom is seriously over having ten sharp-toothed little mouths attacking her every time she slows up. While we were there, she tried to walk away from them, but three of the little dickens, incuding Brodie, stayed latched on and walked along with her on their back legs.
Older dog is gradually accepting the puppy, but needs lots of reassurance that he is still Numero Uno Dog of the House. Imagine a 95 pound lap dog...
Older dog is gradually accepting the puppy, but needs lots of reassurance that he is still Numero Uno Dog of the House. Imagine a 95 pound lap dog...