Buster and Bonnie
The very first animals I remember having in the house were a pair of zebra finches named Buster and Bonnie. They had the cutest chirps and I loved Buster’s bright orange cheeks.
|"We may be siblings, but that doesn't mean we are going to stop|
trying to have babies together!" – Buster and Bonnie
|But Mom! Why CAN'T they live in the tree?!|
The first pet that actually "belonged" to me was Marbles. He was a light grey tiger cat that was super cuddly; however, he was clearly mentally challenged. He walked into walls, had issues landing on his feet when he fell, and couldn’t climb trees…mostly he just jumped at the trunk and hung there with a look of triumph on his face like, “Hey! I just climbed me a tree! Did you see that?!”
|Hence the name Marbles. As in, he had lost them all.|
My next cat was named Rosie. She was also a grey tiger cat, but she was kind of an aloof bitch. But she was laid back enough to let my little sister “carry” her around the house sometimes. At least until the tick incident…
|Oh you poor cat, you had no idea what was to come...|
|Right in the pooper. And yes, these are crocheted cat asses that you can actually buy.|
Our next pets were all fish. Like a cubic buttload of fish. They died off pretty quickly, which we later realized was because our tap water was basically liquid iron. Our longest lived ones were two little neons named Stripe and Banana-Butt (guess which one was my sister's).
|Haha, You have 'butt" in your name!|
|You want to name me WHAT?!|
|Uh...hi. This isn't what it looks like.|
|"What the fuck do you want? I'm eating here bitch." – Goddamn Bear|
In other kind-of related news, Fizz's cremains are coming home tonight when I go pick them up from UPS because they are assholes. If you don't know, cremains require a signature, in person, when they are delivered because they don't want grandma getting swiped by the dude down the street that steals all your packages.
|Including that package from Amazon that was filled with toilet paper and pads.|
They made the first delivery attempt last Thursday and never left a sticker saying they were there.
|Because I am just supposed to sense their presence with my force powers?|
The next attempt, they left a sticker telling us they would be back sometime between 10am and 2pm on Monday. The time when they usually stop by. When we are never goddamn home. That would have been their final attempt before shipping it back to Angel View Pet Cemetery who had done the cremation for us. Fantastic. AND the UPS offices aren't open on weekends and their website is useless when it doesn't recognize your fucking tracking number as being a real thing.
|A reenactment of what my tracking number looked like to UPS.|
Eventually I told them to just hold the damn package and that is why I have to go pick up a package from a fucking delivery company.