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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