Amie McCracken at i AM alive hosts a weekly funfest called Three Things Thursday, in which she and everyone fabulous that she knows posts three things about themselves on a certain topic.
(I'm sneakily lumping myself into the category of Fabulous People that Amie Knows. Bahaha.)
Today's theme is three things about the pets you've had. I hope you'll go on over and participate, because this is a fun subject.
1.) My first "My Very Own" pet was a beagle named Maggie. She was my eighth birthday present, and I thought she summed up everything that was good and beautiful in the world. (I should add here that I was unreasonably obsessed with dogs as a child. As in, I had a sweatshirt featuring a picture of every well-known breed which I wore every day, as well as pink shoelaces that read, I ♥ MY BEAGLE.) Maggie was the protagonist of every story I wrote between the ages of eight and twelve--believe me, there were a lot--and she lived until I was twenty-two.
2.) I once had a hermit crab named Janie. Her story is a tragedy. She was a dear little crab, and so cooperative and resilient that she suffered a family road-trip all the way to Florida and back. But not long after said road-trip, Janie molted. And since the crab she shared a tank with was somewhat unfriendly, I assumed the worst: I thought he'd ripped her limb from limb. Carefully, tearfully, I placed her in a ziplock baggie and buried her outside. Several months later, though, I found the severed limbs of the murderous crab... and he was the only one in the tank. Upon closer inspection of these "severed limbs," I discovered that they were merely shed skins. I realized then that I was the murderer.
3.) My current pets are, I think, extraterrestrials. That isn't to say that I'm not weird myself, but Ophelia and Severus require new measuring techniques to gauge their strangeness. Let me explain.
Ophelia was a stray, which might account for her tendency to eat things that aren't meant to be gobbled down. Like zinc tablets, and quilts, and my favorite purses, and bottles of paint. However, being a stray does not explain her love of swinging a heavy combination bike-lock around in circles like some kind of deadly lasso, or her tendency to approach the water-dish at a run and plunge both feet into the water rather than her mouth. Nor, in fact, does it shed light on her penchant for affectionate (and painful) wrist-bites, or her desire to be draped over person's neck like a mink stole. I could go on, but I'll spare you.
Severus's weirdness probably goes back to the fact that I got him for Ophelia. (Like I said, I have no shortage of weirdness, myself.) But he was confused from the start because, not only was he being raised by a dog, but his name kept changing. Because for some reason, I just couldn't stop calling him Catten. (As in, not quite a cat, not really a kitten anymore...) So now he is Severus sometimes, and Catten most of the time. And his way of dealing with this identity-crisis is to sit around on his back with his legs splayed like an exhibitionist, or in the worst-case-scenario, to fall one story from my balcony and land in a holly bush. Or, as you can see, to be a total ham for the camera.
Now that you know more than you ever wanted to know about my pets, I hope you'll go visit Amie and participate yourself! Or, if you feel so inclined, I'd love to see your weird pet stories in the comments.
(Also, the Mockingjay discussion is still open, so feel free to join in if you've read the book.)