Ugh. This truly is a random rambling. Anyway...
I had wanted a pet for as long as I can remember. At my old house my mom had always said that we needed more space and that we could get an animal when we moved. Fast-foreword several arguments, 11 years, and six moves. My family went to a shelter to get kittens!!
I walked in and saw the cutest calico tabby who was bouncing around her cage. To impress the newcomers, she jumped from one platform to another. Unfortunately for her, the landing surface had a cloth on it that slid off. With her on it. She creeped into her box in shame.
Over in another cage, a black kitten calmly slept in a cat bed. He woke up, came over to the bars and stuck his paw out at me. The person working there took him out and let us pet him. He was super thin, but loved to be petted and had a very loud purr. Skip over a bit, and we took them home.
It was rough from the start. The black kitten (3 1/2 months old) had to poo during the car ride home and my nose experienced pure bliss.
He also had trouble eating and had blood in the litter box. We talked to the vet and brought him in when he had a prolapse of his intestines. He seemed to do better after he came home. Suddenly, when he was about four months old, he lost all his energy. He couldn't walk or even lift his head. He went to the vet and never came home again. I cried for three days straight. Darn it, writing about this has me crying now.
Even though he was so sick, that little cat was the sweetest thing on earth. He would go up and cuddle you, and I remember him walking around and his tail would stick up so you would see this black feather duster floating around. The calico always wanted to play and after my dad had force fed him his medicine and he was recovering she would attack.
He blended in with the carpet and always crouched on the black stripes so you had to be careful to see him. I loved him so much...
The calico kept wondering where herpunching bag friend was and was getting depressed, so we got a little grey tabby. Who turned out to be "special." He chased his tail when he was younger because he thought it was a toy. He didn't know how to knead. He didn't know how to stalk toys and instead chased them at top speed until he almost passed out. Now, he acts like a dog and runs to the door to greet me and get petted.
A while back, we got our first chickens!! Great, right? Nope.
One of them just kinda slept and refused to eat. When she was five days old, she collapsed and died under the heat lamp. Her grave is in my backyard under the pine trees.
But this was just the beginning. I only had five birds left, and two wouldn't ever produce eggs (hint: cock-a-doodle-doo). I went out and got three more chicks. Recently I realized one of those was a cockerel. Don't they have an accuracy rate of about 90%? Out of eight chickens, THREE are male!? That's only 62.5% accurate.
Well, that's my rant about how all my animals die. Did I mention how I tried to save a snake that got hit by a car and an orphaned baby mouse (on two separate occasions) and they both died too? All my plants die too...
I had wanted a pet for as long as I can remember. At my old house my mom had always said that we needed more space and that we could get an animal when we moved. Fast-foreword several arguments, 11 years, and six moves. My family went to a shelter to get kittens!!
I walked in and saw the cutest calico tabby who was bouncing around her cage. To impress the newcomers, she jumped from one platform to another. Unfortunately for her, the landing surface had a cloth on it that slid off. With her on it. She creeped into her box in shame.
Over in another cage, a black kitten calmly slept in a cat bed. He woke up, came over to the bars and stuck his paw out at me. The person working there took him out and let us pet him. He was super thin, but loved to be petted and had a very loud purr. Skip over a bit, and we took them home.
It was rough from the start. The black kitten (3 1/2 months old) had to poo during the car ride home and my nose experienced pure bliss.
He also had trouble eating and had blood in the litter box. We talked to the vet and brought him in when he had a prolapse of his intestines. He seemed to do better after he came home. Suddenly, when he was about four months old, he lost all his energy. He couldn't walk or even lift his head. He went to the vet and never came home again. I cried for three days straight. Darn it, writing about this has me crying now.Even though he was so sick, that little cat was the sweetest thing on earth. He would go up and cuddle you, and I remember him walking around and his tail would stick up so you would see this black feather duster floating around. The calico always wanted to play and after my dad had force fed him his medicine and he was recovering she would attack.
He blended in with the carpet and always crouched on the black stripes so you had to be careful to see him. I loved him so much...The calico kept wondering where her
A while back, we got our first chickens!! Great, right? Nope.
One of them just kinda slept and refused to eat. When she was five days old, she collapsed and died under the heat lamp. Her grave is in my backyard under the pine trees.
But this was just the beginning. I only had five birds left, and two wouldn't ever produce eggs (hint: cock-a-doodle-doo). I went out and got three more chicks. Recently I realized one of those was a cockerel. Don't they have an accuracy rate of about 90%? Out of eight chickens, THREE are male!? That's only 62.5% accurate.
Well, that's my rant about how all my animals die. Did I mention how I tried to save a snake that got hit by a car and an orphaned baby mouse (on two separate occasions) and they both died too? All my plants die too...
I will send good vibes to your dog so he feels better, too! Thanks for reading my looong post. 
