I can tell by your sarcastic undertones, rude comments and sheer lack of common decency that we should be best friends!
To see more Friend-ly photos, click here.
Warning: Today’s ridiculousness was hatched by Jenn and her (best and not stupid son – wink!) as our entry in Evil Squirrel’s 4th annual CoW (contest of whatever)!
I am interrupting Jenn’s stupid blog post (some mindless middle-aged rant about finding a long white hair. I seriously don’t know what her problem is! I am 40% white hair and I’m adorable)! I need to introduce myself
before I harnass the humans to set the record straight. My name is Chloe.
Last week, Jenn posted a cruel story, sharing with the world my private humiliation – breaking my front teeth. She thinks I was being silly, running around my cage and falling off my red plastic igloo. The truth is, I was in training for a secret mission. I was dangling on the edge of a cliff when my foot slipped and I fell into a deep chasm.
Jenn doesn’t know these things because I prefer to keep her in the dark. I’ve been living here for almost a year now and she has yet to discover that I am a supervillain! (aside: Yes Evil Squirrel, I realize this is supposed to be a dialogue but a villain always monologues…) Where was I…?
My evil lair is hidden within the walls of this house. Every night, Jenn thinks I’m staring at her, begging for food. Not true! I am using my extraordinary telepathic abilities to make her tired so she’ll go to bed and I can sneak off to my state-of-the-art lab! It works every night!
I am greater than the Red Squirrel (he’s just insane) and smarter than the Brain (he’s just a megalomaniac)! I am also a master of disguises.
I am the greatest supervillain! I am Chloe, the cleverest cavy of all time!
Norman: Yes! Yes she is!
Chloe: Oh crap! Who let this guy in?
Norman: Nobody. The door was open.
Chloe: Sigh…I’m an expert at robotics but can’t fix that stupid latch!
Norman: Aren’t you going to introduce me?
Chloe: Ok, fine! This, ladies & gentlemen, is the sole reason my ingenius plans haven’t been successful
to harnass the humans. This is Norman.
Norman: Hi, I’m Norman.
Chloe: Norman has a brain the size of a pea, makes friends with the shampoo bottles, and eats his own poop!
Norman: Hi! I’m Norman. This is my friend, Sheila. She’s from “down under”.
Chloe: Yes…well now that we’ve established that, you may now bear witness to my greatest feat as I demonstrate the awesome power of my latest invention – I call it the Gigantimiser. One flip of the switch by my trusty
mimbo henchman, No. 1…
No. 1: ‘Sup?
Chloe: Not now Carl. Didn’t we talk about dressing like a professional last night? Go put some pants on!
No. 1: But dude, these shorts are so comfortable.
No. 1: They don’t pinch my…
No. 1: Yes boss.
Chloe: Carl’s not bad on the eyes but he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Since No. 1 is currently indisposed, let me show you what it’s supposed to do so that you will fear me…
Chloe: See the fear in their eyes? I will go on a rampage of epic proportions and..wait! Why do I smell cheese pizza and burnt hair? Norman! Norman, did you use the incinerator to make pizza again? Norman?
Norman: I wanted to watch G-Force in your new BlueRay player…
Chloe: I don’t have a BlueRay…What did you do with the …
Norman: I just wanted a snack…
Chloe: Someone call the Fire Department…
Happy Monday – everyone…
Chloe is our third guinea pig, and other than the occasional road trip to visit my parents and the night we discovered our guinea pig could whistle like a canary, life with cavies has been pretty tame. Except when I had to give Chloe a bath because she had cedar shavings glued to the hairy rooster comb on her butt. After she roamed in the warm water in the tub, I towelled her dry, and combed/picked/trimmed those shavings right out. Guinea Pig Hair Stylist – that’s pretty weird…
Saturday morning, I woke up to an anxious boy because our fur baby now looked like a caricature of a Mad Magazine nerd.
We’re not sure what she did. Cavy teeth grow continuously…but not in that direction. Either a) she sustained an injury the other night when she was being silly and fell off the top of her igloo; or b) she has developed scurvy. Either option meant an emergency trip to a vet who treats “exotic animals”.
I came home Saturday afternoon $250 poorer with a toothless (uppers), stoned fluff ball and a prescription for antibiotics, to be administered once daily.
Anyone who has ever tried to give a pet antibiotics knows my pain.
Chloe’s brain may be the size of a walnut but when it comes to avoiding her medicine, she’s a genius. The first time, I tried to hold her in a towel and squirt it in. I succeeded in getting 40% in. Then I left her alone for awhile. Round 2 – I gave her a celery leaf, then squirted in the other 60% before treating her to another leaf.
Day 2 – after one sniff, she went into flight mode. I chased her around her cage for 5 minutes, before I pinned her down and succeeded in getting 20% of her medicine all over her nose, the cage and me. I can tell you it doesn’t smell bad but it is very sticky! I waited for Hubby to come home and don the oven mitts. He only chased her for 5 seconds, flipped her on her back and I did the dirty deed.
Day 3…Hubby won’t be home until late tonight. Wish me luck!
Until one has loved an animal a part of one’s soul remains unawakened. – Anatole France
At the beginning of the summer, sorrow befell our family once again. Our second guinea pig, Rock Star, passed away peacefully in her sleep, and for close to 2 weeks, she was “sleeping with the fishes”…the frozen fishes in the blue box with a winking captain, in my freezer. The last time I had a dead body in my deep freeze, it was the dead of winter and the ground was frozen solid.
There are 3 reasonable reasons we didn’t have a funeral (in spite of the absence of snow) in our pet cemetery, as soon as she expired.
1) When Hubby passed on the news to me, Little Guy was at the beginning of his week at my parents and I was leaving in the morning. We decided to wait to tell him before he came home, rather than risking him being upset all week, especially if he was going to miss me. (sidenote: He didn’t!)
2) We’d had very little rain in the preceding weeks, so the ground was as hard as…well ice. (sidenote: little did we know this was the beginning of a drought).
3) Temperatures soared -the humidity level was so high, even the birds and squirrels went into hiding. Hubby might have needed a grave of his own if he went digging in the heat, and there are already 2 bodies back there.
I had to tell Little Guy the sad news the following weekend. To soften the blow, I gave him a picture frame with a photo of his beloved girls. We wept together and then he asked me if he could have some time alone. I respected his wishes, but boy! was it hard to leave him.
A few weeks ago, we met my parents at a rest stop on a Sunday afternoon to pick up Little Guy (after his second “parent-free” visit). He had no idea that two days before, on the second hottest day of the year (40+C), I picked up Chloe (then drove her through the McDonald’s drive-thru on the way home, for ice-cream). We didn’t tell him even after we got home. I ran ahead to grab the camera while Hubby and Little Guy unloaded the car. Little Guy immediately took some things to his room (what a thoughtful child) and didn’t notice the cage. It wasn’t until he came down that he did!
Surprise! It’s a girl!
Chloe’s owner is a new Mom to a baby girl, and found Chloe was keeping the baby awake. After several nights in our home, I suspect it wasn’t the baby that she kept awake. She’s the size of a kitten, young and full of energy, with a floppy rooster tail that makes me laugh. Her favourite spot is on top of her igloo – she reminds me of Snoopy doing his vulture impression.
Like all pets, she has her own personality and we’re still very much becoming acquainted.
I trust she will be a welcome addition to the family (and I hope she never escapes)!
On Monday, I made a reference to my two faithful readers, and EvilSquirrel commented that “sometimes my cats will read over my shoulder… so don’t underestimate your readership! It’s at least double what you claim it is!😉”. So today, as a shout-out to my friends and his fabulous felines, I’m sharing a photo of our Rockstar!
Sorry boys…while most Happy Meals come in a box…this one is not on the menu!
I have a dead body in my deep freeze.
When I started this week (not so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed), I never imagined such a thing!
What made it worse was that I forgot there was a dead body in my freezer until I went to dig out a bag of french fries. “Oh,” I thought, “that’s weird”. What’s in this big box on top of the….OH!”
A dead body in the freezer is pretty weird. What makes it ever weirder is that it’s not the first one.
Before you accuse me of being a serial killer, both of the deceased expired of natural causes. Their tickers just plain wore out. And before you accuse me of offing Hubby or my offspring (believe me, there may have been a few moments when I almost understand why some mothers eat their young), both of the bodies belonged to dead rodents.
Both rodents were pets. (I have a deep-seated fear of rodents who don’t live in cages).
The first body was Big Guy’s hamster, Fidget. Since Big Guy lives in an apartment, and tossing his little friend into the dumpster was a vivid assault on his wounded heart, he laid her to rest in his own freezer (there’s nothing else in there) until he could visit and bury her in my yard. The problem was, he arrived some time after midnight, and not wanting to disturb the neighbours by digging in the back corner of the yard, he tucked her in her baggy casket, in my freezer…the one upstairs, next to the waffles and English muffins. Imagine my surprise in the morning when I went to make a special breakfast for my boys…
Fidget is safely ensconced in the back corner of our yard. And once the ground thaws, that’s where the second (and most recent body) will be laid to rest. One of our two guinea pigs expired while I was at dance class Tuesday night. I came home elated to have survived another hour without injury, to find two distraught gentlemen and a pile of tissues. Guinea was breathing her last in the cage in the basement (lights on), while Rock Star huddled in her plastic igloo in…my laundry basket. Once Little Guy had been consoled and gently tucked into bed, I went to the basement to say my “good-byes” too. Guinea was already gone.
The next question – now what? I couldn’t toss a member of the family into the trash. She was too big to flush (that was another terrible tale). And the ground is still frozen.
I have a dead body in my deep freeze.
I carefully laid our little one in a cardboard box (the first box was too small and I had to stand there with this rapidly stiffening creature while Hubby grabbed another). I wrapped the box in a bag…and now…I have a dead body in my deep freeze.
I also no longer have a craving for french fries.
They whinge and whine the moment I step foot in the upstairs hall…but they don’t do it for anyone else.
They shriek when I’m fixing food in the kitchen (especially peeling carrots – such a quiet task) or running water in the sink (it reminds me of the shower scene in Psycho)!
They stare at me with their little beady eyes any time after 9:30 p.m., willing me to “feed them”.
When we go on holidays for more than a day, they have to come with us.
They are our pets…and I am (I somewhat reluctantly confess) their “mom”!
Guinea is extremely inquisitive and a bit of a bully. She is sprouting more and more gray hair every year.
Rock Star is very skittish and shy, and always looks like an unmade bed. Don’t worry – while Guinea steals her carrots, she is almost twice Guinea’s size.
We adopted them from a family at church who needed to find them a home in a hurry. Little Guy talks to them, shows them his new things, shares his secrets and plans with them. They are “family”!
“Animals are reliable, many full of love, true in their affections, predictable in their actions, grateful and loyal. Difficult standards for people to live up to.” – Alfred A. Montapert
To see more “Eye Spy” photos, click here.
I told this story to Little Guy last night and he laughed out loud.
I had a friend in school. My friend’s neighbours had a cat that roamed the neighbourhood. Every night she heard them calling for the cat to come home. They would call “Here kitty-kitty…here Stupid”…
* * *
For this week’s challenge, you must write a fifty-word story. Not five thousand, not five hundred, but precisely fifty words!
Every now and then someone makes a comment and I mean to “set the record straight” or simply “wrap up some loose ends”…but then I never quite get there. I leave it hanging, not that it really matters, but here we go:
#1: I have been blessed with 2 boys: Big Guy was my surprise baby – he just turned 24. He lives on his own, drives his own car, and occasionally remembers to call home. I’m guilty of not calling often enough either. I never want him to feel abandoned, but I also want him to have his own life and pursue his own dreams. I’m thankful for all the special times we still get to share. How many Moms get to say they ran in the mud with their son?
Little Guy was my long-awaited baby, and he just turned 8. He has a generous spirit and a weird sense of humour. He is growing more independent every day…but still takes the time to swing by me with a fairy kiss or two. He’s my kind of kid!
I would have loved to have a daughter, but it just isn’t going to happen. That “ship has sailed” and I have had to accept it and move on. While I didn’t get to tie ribbons in their hair, having boys didn’t mean I missed out on all the things I would have done with a girl. We still had tea parties with calico tea and cookies. We still enjoyed picnics in the back yard, made sparkly crafts, and played with Barbies (proper play – not rip their heads off and play catch). I introduced them to classic old black and white movies (light on the musicals however), as well as Angelina Ballerina, Tinkerbell, and My Little Pony. We’ve shopped for jewellery. And I have taught them both how to walk in high heels, and how to slow dance. Both boys have brought me fistfuls of sticky dandelions in the Spring, and hammered me with snowballs in the winter. I will never be a mother of the bride, but I will wear the title “Mother of the Groom” with pride…someday.
#2: I do not have any grandchildren…I had a grand-hamster named Fidget, who belonged to Big Guy. Occasionally, like a good Grandma, I got to “hamster-sit” while Big Guy went camping. She came with us to her Great-Grandparents’ house for Christmas holidays, and I made sure there were presents for her under our tree. Fidget died of natural causes last spring when the ground was still frozen, and her Daddy couldn’t bear the thought of “burying” her in the dumpster out front…so he lovingly wrapped her up and tucked her in his freezer (it’s not like there was any food in there any way). She spent one night in my freezer (unbeknownst to me – and what a shock it was to find her) before Big Guy buried her in our back yard.
#3: This last one is a bit embarrassing to admit – I am a guinea pig “mom”. Over a year ago, a family in our church had a medical emergency and needed to find a home for their guinea pigs right away. No one stepped up…so we did! Our “girls”, Guinea and Rock Star (we didn’t name them either), are very much my “girls”. I feed them, I clean them, and I buy them treats (and water dishes – we are currently on #6 and I bought it in the dog food aisle). They travel in the car with us (in their cage) when we visit my parents and there’s no one at home to freshen up their water dish. They like visiting their Great-Grandparents because Papa spoils them! They can differentiate between my footsteps upstairs in the morning over the rest of the family, and start begging (or wheeking) when they hear me. Begging sounds like the shower curtain soundtrack in the movie Psycho…the closer I get, the more it escalates. They also shriek if you make kissy noises, cluck like a chicken, whistle like a cardinal, rattle a plastic bag, open the fridge door, chop vegetables, or run water in the sink. I can’t talk in the evenings when they are most active, because if they hear my voice, they will start begging too. They have exceptionally good hearing. If I had named them, I would have gone with something like “Laverne & Shirley”, “Thelma and Louise”, “Lucy and Ethel”…
…or Butterscotch and Oreo. Can you tell why?
Notebooks from a trampfest. Travel tips, tales and images, online since 2006.
Humor at the Speed of Life
The daily dose of my life with 2 teenagers, 3 critters, my amazing hubby, LOTS of coffee and a side of wine - Cheers!
Come and enjoy the beach with me!
Photographe Reims France
Brought to you by caffeine and wishful thinking...
Tips and tricks to shoot some better photos of the most exciting places
Exploring my passion for photography one click at a time!
The Art and Craft of Blogging
Where all the cool squirrels hang out!
Woman travelling solo through the world and life.
My mid-life solo travel stories
Engaging Each Day with Action Words
Grab a Cup. Five Bucks at the Door.
It's about fatherhood, futbol, and food.