Faking It

I wonder how long it will take for normal to feel like normal again? Technically, the word normal is a piss poor descriptor of my everyday life. It only applies in relative way. My normal is someone else’s version of WTF?, and their normal is probably my version of just give me something sharp and rusty so I can cut my leg off to escape. All relative.

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In lieu of what has become the habitual death watch post, I offer a recess which includes charming pictures of my non-human allies over the course of this void.

img_2227xFirst, is Delilah*, a charming golden retriever who keeps my loyal friend, and spare bed provider, Marsha* company on cold nights. I like staying with Marsha. It’s relaxing, and informal and did I mention? She bakes. Delilah* does not bake, but she is genuinely glad to see you.

Delilah is generally low key, until she wants your undivided attention, at which point she brings a love offering consisting of a destroyed single-eyed-stuffed-weinerdog or perhaps a pair of dirty socks from the hamper. Pawing your leg is her pull-out-all-the-stops move.

Avoid all open mouth kissing attempts and lascivious advances, as Delilah has been known to drink directly from the toilet. Ask me how I know. Well…Delilah woke me at o’fuck thirty lapping water from the commode, and then expressed her gratitude with an attempted good night kiss, as I lay in the bed half-asleep. Love knows no boundaries….but she seems unaware I don’t really love her that way, I just like her a lot, though maybe shaving the fur off her rear end confused the issue and sent the wrong signal.

img_2180xThis is Delilah’s* house mate, S.O.S*.

Don’t be fooled by the dramatic lighting. S.O.S* is a one woman cat. I am not that woman. My kitty sense has taught me to give characters like S.O.S* a wide berth.

She had the misfortune of hiding under a dresser one evening and getting locked in our bedroom. She was fine until 3 AM, when I heard scratching at the door. Drowsy me assumed the scratching was coming from OUTSIDE the door, so I made hissing sound and muttered stop. It worked until 4 AM, and then there was a repeat, and at 5AM. After 6 AM it was apparent the cat was in the room with us. After she tried to gnaw off my husbands ankle, we decided it was best to get up and make coffee.

img_2166xThis charming creature is Dakota*.

He’s a frequent visitor at Marsha’s*. Dakota* may not look the part, he’s so humble, but he is a movie star. Currently he’s working on a zombie movie with W00dy Harels0n and Matth3w McC0naugh3y. I never said he was discriminating about selecting scripts. He has much to learn about show-biz, but he is very resourceful in the kitchen. During my stay, he swiped 2 loafs of bread and a serving of bread pudding with lemon sauce. Dakota* has good taste in food.

img_2283xLast but not least, is Gorgeous George*.

Gorgeous George* turned out to be an error in judgement. He is a green anole, I caught in a sego palm outside my MIL assisted living facility. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Small lizard that turns from green to brown. Food from the pet store, plastic cage. Easy to catch. I should have put more time into research before I brought George* further north. It seems Gorgeous George is high maintenance. He needs a 10 gallon tank, special UV lighting, and a misting system.

I am an idiot. I caught a perfectly happy lizard, transported him almost 400 miles, and brought a solar powered reptile to a colder climate. Anyone else care to sit beside me in that hand-basket?

George hasn’t been consuming his pet store food, and I don’t intend for him to starve to death. While SOMEONE on four legs would love to become intimately acquainted with him it seems somehow wrong to witness natural selection on the tile floor between refrigerator and the swivel bar stool.

Today, when the temperature peaks, Gorgeous George* will be released into the yard edge, with plenty of cover from the birds. Sorry George*, but if I keep you caged you won’t last long enough to return to the south. I need not worry about the source of my bad karma any longer.

* names changed to protect the innocent and the not so innocent.

5 Responses to “Faking It”

  1. meno Says:

    I wanted to change the last sentence of your first paragraph to “All relatives.”

    Good idea changing the names. That’s how i was found.

  2. flutter Says:

    look at those sweet furry faces

  3. De Says:

    I’m hoping Gorgeous George lives up to his pseudo-namesake and wrestles his way to a warm climate.

    Do you think you could get an autographed photo of Dakota for Pepper? He’s her kind of fellow. Today is her birthday, so we got her a hunk of liverwurst, but she couldn’t wait and helped herself to a stinky cheese wrapper and about a cup of butter frosting left over from her big “sister’s” cupcakes.

  4. Nancy_Pants Says:

    So now you’re rubbing muzzles with movie stars? *s*

    I’m sorry to read about everything else that’s going on. I hope you get/have gotten a sanity hike soon.

  5. jaded Says:

    meno, your version is more accurate.

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    flutter, makes you want to take one home until you equate Big Dog=Big Dog Poo.

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    De, I think Pepper has excellent taste, I would have chosen the buttercreme too.

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    Nancy Pants, I’m working on it. It’s amazing how much time it takes to re-establish normal.

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