Animal Magnetism
Do you want me to tell you about all the animals I killed as a child? No. Not like that. I would never blow up frogs or strangle kitties. Jeez. What kind of sicko do you think I am? No sicko, but no Horse Whisperer, either. Every single pet I ever had died an early death.
I was never much of a nurturer, a caregiver. My mom loves to tell people about how she got me some nice goldfish when I was 2 and how she though "Oh, what a sweet girl…" when I sat in front of the fish bowl, gazing at the fish. When all of a sudden, I stuck my hand into the bowl, grabbed the black goldfish and tossed it out the window saying, "I don't like the black one!"
The tiny turtles I got when I was 5 died from too much sun (and maybe not enough water?) while I was sick with measles. I had a canary I forgot to feed/water for a few days… I can't go on. It's too depressing.
Big Dog loves to tell the story (what is it about people getting pleasure out of telling stories about how "bad" I am with animals?) about the girl monkey who hated my guts, about normally calm dogs suddenly going crazy when they see me.
"They sense the witch in me," I sulk.
Being disliked by people is okay. There are tons of people I dislike. But when you're hated or feared by animals, that hurts. Which is why it's so nice to be making friends with all the furry and feathered creatures around here.
Pepper and Ty, who live in the back, are a couple of amnesiac dogs who keep forgetting who I am, but Magic and Puka ,in the front, are my buddies now. The three hens follow me around the orchard, adopting me as one of their own, and the two horses, Miracle and Shade (those are their real names but I call them Blondie and Brownie) like me enough to horse around with me and eat the apples I bring them. ("They don't like you, they just like the apples," you might say. Which is why I'm not asking you!)
Brownie is the bold, goofy boy. He makes faces, nuzzles your head, takes a munch out of my straw hat. Blondie is shy and aloof (with people. She's real bossy to Brownie.) She's only just begun eating out of my hand and letting me stroke her face. Apparently she was abused as a child so is still a bit skittish, and it gives me double delight to have her like me. ("She just likes your apples….")
See? Spend enough time with a witch and you'll find that she's not much different from all the other two-legged things.
I was never much of a nurturer, a caregiver. My mom loves to tell people about how she got me some nice goldfish when I was 2 and how she though "Oh, what a sweet girl…" when I sat in front of the fish bowl, gazing at the fish. When all of a sudden, I stuck my hand into the bowl, grabbed the black goldfish and tossed it out the window saying, "I don't like the black one!"
The tiny turtles I got when I was 5 died from too much sun (and maybe not enough water?) while I was sick with measles. I had a canary I forgot to feed/water for a few days… I can't go on. It's too depressing.
Big Dog loves to tell the story (what is it about people getting pleasure out of telling stories about how "bad" I am with animals?) about the girl monkey who hated my guts, about normally calm dogs suddenly going crazy when they see me.
"They sense the witch in me," I sulk.
Being disliked by people is okay. There are tons of people I dislike. But when you're hated or feared by animals, that hurts. Which is why it's so nice to be making friends with all the furry and feathered creatures around here.
Pepper and Ty, who live in the back, are a couple of amnesiac dogs who keep forgetting who I am, but Magic and Puka ,in the front, are my buddies now. The three hens follow me around the orchard, adopting me as one of their own, and the two horses, Miracle and Shade (those are their real names but I call them Blondie and Brownie) like me enough to horse around with me and eat the apples I bring them. ("They don't like you, they just like the apples," you might say. Which is why I'm not asking you!)
Brownie is the bold, goofy boy. He makes faces, nuzzles your head, takes a munch out of my straw hat. Blondie is shy and aloof (with people. She's real bossy to Brownie.) She's only just begun eating out of my hand and letting me stroke her face. Apparently she was abused as a child so is still a bit skittish, and it gives me double delight to have her like me. ("She just likes your apples….")
See? Spend enough time with a witch and you'll find that she's not much different from all the other two-legged things.
posted by bad-dog at 8:31 AM
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