Pets........

Pets rock. I suppose that's a personal opinion, but I feel it. My life has been enhanced by the moments, days, hours I've spent with/watching present and past pets.

As a kid.. there was Brownie. We lived two houses from a small Liberal Arts College - all the kids there claimed "Jake" (they called him) as theirs... the next door neighbors claimed him - although they never fed him or took him to the vet. Practically everyone in town knew Brownie.

Daily, before leash laws, he'd walk 5 blocks to the gas station where the fellers there always bought him a treat outta the machine. We gotta call one day from the local Safeway - it was scorching, like 95 degrees... Brownie was sitting in the entry way, soaking up their air conditioning, and I suppose welcoming shoppers. He wouldn't budge - so we went and rescued the mutt.

We think a college kid took him home once. Hadn't seen him for two weeks - finally, my father was returning on a sales trip and found him walking toward our home town some 12 miles away.

The Kansas City Chiefs Football team trained in our home town... Brownie was fairly passive - but when the team lined up to hit the blocking sled - on more than one occasion he was biting the butts of the linemen as they too growled at the sled.

Parades? Yes, he was always there - and I'll be damned if he wasn't always in FRONT of the police car. It was fun when I was littler - but as I entered High School I cringed when I heard "HEY VIC, THERE'S YOUR DOG!"

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Magic. Magic was a cockapoo (I think). Coal black. Magic scooted out the front door one day... probably a robin invading our territory... he ran into the street - got bonked pretty decently by a car.... so we rushed him to the vet. We had to put him in this box thingy for like 5 weeks - not allowing him to walk so his leg could heal. We did so. He healed pretty nicely.

When we moved into a house with a pool - occasionally we'd throw our mutts into the water. First time we threw Magic in - like a rock he went to the bottom. He walked fine, but something happened in the dog/car wreck, he couldn't swim at all. I tend not to joke around, hehe, but I can remember getting in trouble when folks would come visit/swim.... I'd fetch Magic, hold him in my arms and say "Hey Smitty, WATCH THIS" - letting him go... yep, to the bottom. Yes, I teased him - but he had it pretty damn good.

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Stripe. I'd never owned a cat until I met wife #2. Gosh, there's been quite a few since. Stripe was from a litter my sister inlaw's damn cat had - so we begrudgingly gave in to "I've only got ONE left to get ridda."

Stripe was loving, and loud. He really really thought he lived in Vietnam though. Pensive, always watching the coast. Marty Feldman eyeballs he had. At times I felt sorry for him and wondered if they had cat valium. Again, it's rare for me to be in a teasing mood... but upon occasion I'd sneak around the corner... muster up a loud "INCOMING" and Stripe would be up the steps safely under the back bedroom bed in 4 seconds.

Stripe was "Dollar General" of the four cats. Bobby (she, pristine) was "Saks 5th", Figaro (cross-eyed tabby) was "KMart"... and Jackson (Maine Coon, the gentle giant) was "WalMart."

Stripe's no longer in Vietnam today... Hopefully he's in a much nicer, peaceful place. He passed about 10am this morning.

Soooooooooo..... I suppose if there's a moral, go pet your pet. When you come back from getting the mail and Bowser thinks you've returned from the Bahamas, show him your appreciation. Water. Electricity. Relationships. Pets. Things we occasionally take for granted until they're gone.