- Joined
- Apr 11, 2007
- Messages
- 5,438
Hiya Folks,
I have an amusing sort of a post holiday story that I thought i'd share with you unruly lot.
It starts with a downer. A friend of mine in West Virginia had an unfortunate spate of bad luck. This culminated in him being kicked out of his house by his own family and his sister-in-law putting his big, fat female G rosea out on the porch on a cold november night. Well, as you may expect, the frigid mountain air was too much for even a very resilient rosie to stand. By morning she had succumbed to the cold. Dave (the friend in question) found her "not merely dead but really most sincerely dead" (name that film). For him this was just another step in an assortment of unfortunate events. Another kick in the ribs while he was down, as it were.
There wasn't much i could do to help with his situation. I really empathised with him on the loss of a beloved pet though and was looking forward to the oppurtunity to give him one from my collection to replace it. Soon enough that oppurtunity came around. When my mom drove up to Maryland to visit us for Christmas he came along as well. It was a nice visit and a very enjoyable holiday. On Christmas morning i show up at my sisters house with the typical bags of presents for the kids and everyone. I laid them out under the tree then look at Dave and told him I had one more in the car and i'd be right back.
So here i come with a little "show offs" tote containing a 3.5" G rosea i snagged at the MARS expo last year. I think he was pretty psyched to say the least. I knew he was living with another family at the time and that the lady of the house might not be too excited about taking in that particular type of pet so I asked him about it and he assured me there would be no problem. A likely story...
Of course when they arrived back in WV the T was not allowed through the door. No amount of pleading would budge the lady of the house so that little rosie ended up going home with my somewhat reluctant mother. Now, my mom is definitely an animal person. She works in a research lab with rats (among other animals) and has had a variety of pets throughout the years including birds and guinea pigs along with dogs, cats, chickens, ducks, etc etc... A great big spider however was asking a little much. Lucky for her (and the T) the air holes in the top of the container were large enough to drop in crickets and squirt water in the dish. She could provide completely for the spider without opening the lid.
For a couple of months this lonely little t spent it's time in the spare bedroom of my mom's house. She was surprised that 2 crickets every other week and a full water dish was all that was needed to keep it going but as we all know, it was plenty. Unfortunately this situation caused some disruption to my mothers social life. Her very good friend refused to enter the house at all during the period the T was resident. I felt pretty bad about the whole situation but there was little I could do being so far away. I love my bugs but i'm not doing a 700 mile round trip to pick up one G rosea. I wouldn't drive that far for a M balfouri! (Actually yeah, I probably would.)
In the end it all worked out. Eventually Dave found a home for the lil sucker at a friends house. I'm told it's doing very well there. I'm told that Dave is also doing well. The experience was impactful enough that at one point my mom was having crazy dreams about the t escaping and running up and down the walls of her hallway. She also wrote a poem about the experience that she's taking to a local poetry jam and submitting to a writing contest.
I've secured permission to publish the poem here so if you like poetry, here goes:
Houseguest
He’s not comin’ thru my door, she said
So I let him come thru mine
And I’m not really scared of him
But this kinda makes me edgy.
And some friends are scared
And judgemental
And won’t come thru my door.
I feel responsibility
Because of where he comes from
In respect for all of flesh and blood.
Despite reassurances, I will not breach the walls.
Thankful his territory is secured.
I knew he’d made it through his journey
When I watched him move
Pick up feet and stretch
Wiggle a little then resettle
Just like any vertebrate would do.
But still I don’t want to watch him much.
Fears not my own visited my dreams
Endlessly all one night.
Escape and darting
And scurrying and scrambling
Up and down red walls
Thru doors not my own.
He’s definitely fuzzy
But not warm or soft or cuddly.
An easy keeper, hardly in the way
Simple to neglect, forget.
Yet I peer at him every day
Tend him thru an air hole
Observe if just for seconds
But never watch him eat.
Willing him back out thru my door
To some other home.
-Ellen Broudy
I have an amusing sort of a post holiday story that I thought i'd share with you unruly lot.
It starts with a downer. A friend of mine in West Virginia had an unfortunate spate of bad luck. This culminated in him being kicked out of his house by his own family and his sister-in-law putting his big, fat female G rosea out on the porch on a cold november night. Well, as you may expect, the frigid mountain air was too much for even a very resilient rosie to stand. By morning she had succumbed to the cold. Dave (the friend in question) found her "not merely dead but really most sincerely dead" (name that film). For him this was just another step in an assortment of unfortunate events. Another kick in the ribs while he was down, as it were.
There wasn't much i could do to help with his situation. I really empathised with him on the loss of a beloved pet though and was looking forward to the oppurtunity to give him one from my collection to replace it. Soon enough that oppurtunity came around. When my mom drove up to Maryland to visit us for Christmas he came along as well. It was a nice visit and a very enjoyable holiday. On Christmas morning i show up at my sisters house with the typical bags of presents for the kids and everyone. I laid them out under the tree then look at Dave and told him I had one more in the car and i'd be right back.
So here i come with a little "show offs" tote containing a 3.5" G rosea i snagged at the MARS expo last year. I think he was pretty psyched to say the least. I knew he was living with another family at the time and that the lady of the house might not be too excited about taking in that particular type of pet so I asked him about it and he assured me there would be no problem. A likely story...
Of course when they arrived back in WV the T was not allowed through the door. No amount of pleading would budge the lady of the house so that little rosie ended up going home with my somewhat reluctant mother. Now, my mom is definitely an animal person. She works in a research lab with rats (among other animals) and has had a variety of pets throughout the years including birds and guinea pigs along with dogs, cats, chickens, ducks, etc etc... A great big spider however was asking a little much. Lucky for her (and the T) the air holes in the top of the container were large enough to drop in crickets and squirt water in the dish. She could provide completely for the spider without opening the lid.
For a couple of months this lonely little t spent it's time in the spare bedroom of my mom's house. She was surprised that 2 crickets every other week and a full water dish was all that was needed to keep it going but as we all know, it was plenty. Unfortunately this situation caused some disruption to my mothers social life. Her very good friend refused to enter the house at all during the period the T was resident. I felt pretty bad about the whole situation but there was little I could do being so far away. I love my bugs but i'm not doing a 700 mile round trip to pick up one G rosea. I wouldn't drive that far for a M balfouri! (Actually yeah, I probably would.)
In the end it all worked out. Eventually Dave found a home for the lil sucker at a friends house. I'm told it's doing very well there. I'm told that Dave is also doing well. The experience was impactful enough that at one point my mom was having crazy dreams about the t escaping and running up and down the walls of her hallway. She also wrote a poem about the experience that she's taking to a local poetry jam and submitting to a writing contest.
I've secured permission to publish the poem here so if you like poetry, here goes:
Houseguest
He’s not comin’ thru my door, she said
So I let him come thru mine
And I’m not really scared of him
But this kinda makes me edgy.
And some friends are scared
And judgemental
And won’t come thru my door.
I feel responsibility
Because of where he comes from
In respect for all of flesh and blood.
Despite reassurances, I will not breach the walls.
Thankful his territory is secured.
I knew he’d made it through his journey
When I watched him move
Pick up feet and stretch
Wiggle a little then resettle
Just like any vertebrate would do.
But still I don’t want to watch him much.
Fears not my own visited my dreams
Endlessly all one night.
Escape and darting
And scurrying and scrambling
Up and down red walls
Thru doors not my own.
He’s definitely fuzzy
But not warm or soft or cuddly.
An easy keeper, hardly in the way
Simple to neglect, forget.
Yet I peer at him every day
Tend him thru an air hole
Observe if just for seconds
But never watch him eat.
Willing him back out thru my door
To some other home.
-Ellen Broudy
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