Archives for category: animals



Later this month, the 4th anniversary of the loss of our cat Olive will be upon us. During the course of those four years, a tiny solar-powered $1.50 pathway lantern, bought at Walmart, has marked her grave.

Every single lantern I bought before or since than has petered out. They aren’t a quality product, and rarely last one season.

Except Olive’s light.

It’s the strangest thing. All other lights of a similar style weren’t worth diddly-squat. But Olive’s light? It shines bright every night. For four, long years.

I think that’s pretty cool.



Every morning when I take my 3 mile walk, I see no less than 5 people walking their dogs. There is the old lady with the shih zu, the couple with the hound dogs, and the man with the 3 crazy white shnauzers. He knows his dogs are crazy, so he crosses the street when we pass.

This morning I learned how thankful I am that he takes his role as a dog owner seriously – especially when you know your pets are high strung.

As I was rounding a corner this morning a woman with two very large dogs was attempting to walk them. I say “attempting” because both of these animals were somewhat maniacal, and she was getting yanked to and fro like a rag doll. I was a little concerned, but she was on the other side of the street, so I figured I’d be safe.

But once the golden retreiver noticed me, and saw that I was turning onto “his” street, he jumped towards me. Not only was his leash freakishly long, but the woman had absolutely no control as she was getting yanked in the opposite direction by the other very large dog on a very long leash.

The golden retreiver jumped up on me, and I put both hands up and simultaneously pushed away with a “hey puppy!” – trying to seem friendly rather than threatened. I immediately felt a sting on the side of my boob as I quickly walked away. I figured he must have gouged me with a claw – but you know what? I think that little turd actually bit me.

When I got a little further down the road I checked out my boobie – sure enough I could see the beginnings of a bruise. But once I got home and in the shower, I noticed a smaller red mark higher up, which to me indicates a bite rather than a claw.

I’m thankful that I had one of my heavy-duty bras on this morning – I think had I not, he may have broken the skin. I also noticed his leash was the kind included a strap that went over his muzzle…that might have saved me a little too. If his mouth was unrestrained I might be talking stitches…and lawsuits. Cause my insurance sucks.

I’m telling you, if I see this woman with her lunatic dogs again, I am stopping dead in my tracks with my arms up until she is safely past. Because unlike the man with the 3 crazy schnauzers, she seems totally unaware that not only are her dogs nuts, but that they need to be walked one at a time and on a very short leash.

Or maybe if I see her, I’ll just turn around and walk someplace safer.


When I was living in Arkansas for a short spell, I went with my visiting parents to the Memphis Zoo. It was in the birdhouse that I got a close up view of how brutal the world can be.

I was in front of the Kookaburra exhibit, and it was feeding time. A small mouse was put into the cage, and before long the bird had the prey in it’s beak. I don’t know what posessed me to keep watching…I don’t like scenes like this. I could never own an animal that had to be fed other live animals, but I could not tear my eyes away.

The Kookaburra sat on a branch right in front of the window, and folks began to gather as he worked the mouse back and forth in his beak, like he was eating an ear of corn. He would crunch down on the mouse, flattening him more and more with each pass.

I began to notice the area under the mouse’s tail growing larger – and back and forth he went in the Kookaburra’s mouth. After a while the Kookaburra changed tactics. With a strong beak-hold on the mouse, he began whacking it against the trunk of the tree. With each whack, the bulge under the mouse’s grew and grew, until….


As the mouse’s ass exploded, entrails splattered on the window, and hung in bloody ropes on the branches of the tree. Then he swallowed the flattened, tenderized mouse down.

Yeah, I was done. As I walked away I thought of that song…

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree
Merry, merry king of the bush is he
Laugh, Kookaburra! Laugh, Kookaburra!
Gay your life must be

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree
Eating all the gum drops he can see
Stop, Kookaburra! Stop, Kookaburra!
Leave some there for me

It made me wonder what misinformed nincompoop wrote that song. This feeding was probably the most savage thing I had ever witnessed in person, and I was now puzzled by these lyrics celebrating the happy-go-lucky Kookaburra! He’s a murderous fiend!

I have a strong suspicion that Marion Sinclair, the song’s writer, was on serious acid. Cause I got news for you honey….them ‘aint gumdrops he’s eating.