Have you ever had a pet? How many? What kinds? Was one of them yours alone? Were they just animals or part of your family?
Pets filled my childhood. From puppies to kittens, hamsters to rabbits, turtles to lizards, even a raccoon and a couple goats. And we loved them—the ones we bought, the ones we claimed, the ones who claimed us.
Several memories surface, one flying straight to the front of the flock. Remember when prizes for finding the “special” eggs at a community Easter egg hunt included livestock? And not goldfish in plastic bags. Chicks, ducklings, and bunnies topped the list … even colored chicks! (Which I hope they have outlawed now!)
At one Easter egg hunt while still young enough to enjoy the treat, I found one of the marked eggs and hurried to the prize stand. Imagine my astonishment at winning a young rooster! In those days, they didn’t trade prizes, so the young fowl went home with us.
My parents found a closed cage to put him in until we could figure out what to do. However, the solid sides with vents didn’t let me … or our three inquisitive dogs and one curious cat … see the little creature. Pitiful sounds squeezed my heart, and after shoving the other animals back, I peeked through the door. The dark interior showed the rooster cowering.
Glancing to see my mom busy on the phone, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to open the latch and tuck my hand in to pet him, just to calm him and let him know I was there and wouldn’t hurt him. How could I know that little sliver of light would mean “Freedom!”
The mayhem which followed still rings in my ears. One rooster, three dogs, one cat, and three kids created a hurricane force around and through the living room and kitchen! Feathers and squawks from the rooster, yips and yaps from the dogs, hisses from the cat, yelling from us kids, and screams from my mom, while trying to hold her hand over the phone so my grandmother wouldn’t hear the commotion and think someone was getting killed.
I don’t remember how the frenzied but unharmed rooster (minus a few feathers) got captured and returned to the cage, but I do recall my mother putting her foot down and making me give my prize to a neighbor lady who raised fowl. I visited my rooster often. However, to my horror, on one of those intended visits, I found my rooster had become our neighbor’s supper the night before!
From then on, the only roosters in our house came in the ceramic variety, such as this one waiting for my mom to paint it. So ends my rooster tale!
*** Did you ever win a pet at a carnival or other event? Did your pet meet a similar end as mine or do you still have it? Share your story! Click on the words beside the date of this post. Scroll down to the box with the heading, “Leave a reply.” Thank you for sharing!
*** Watch for more “Pet” stories to come in future months! Next week, our word starts with the letter “G.” Hint: it follows the animal theme!
Oh your poor rooster! I hope he enjoyed his newfound freedom for awhile before meeting his demise. Did he have a name? He certainly made his mark though, in your house — and on your heart, too, I’m sure!
The pet I thought of as I read your blog was my family’s cat Bluey. He was a Russian Blue cat and his full name, given him I think by my mother was Bluecifer. Had I known who Lucifer was at the time I’d have never gone for it, but at the time I just thought it was a pretty name. We all called him Bluey though. He was such a nice cat and I had hated that he had to be an outside cat. I don’t remember why there was a stepladder outside my bedroom window or if maybe I put it there, but Bluey would climb up to the top step and sleep there, right outside my window. Finally I felt so sorry for him outside all alone, after the lights were out and I was in bed, I tip-toed over to my window and removed the screen and let Bluey in. He slept at the foot of my bed and we both were happy. I was too young, though, to understand an inside cat would need a litter box! Poor Bluey, he really did try to not make a mess. He peed inside one of my new shoes! His aim was perfect, lol. Not a drop on my bedroom floor, but oh my shoes were ruined! I had loved those shoes. They were pretty and so comfortable too. But there was no way to get them clean enough to wear again. My dad thought it was so funny, well we all did, and he brought that story up again and again over the years and we’d laugh again every time! I ended up throwing that one shoe away and keeping the other one for kiling bugs that got in my room!
Blue grew old and wasn’t well. Then came the time we were selling our house and moving into an apartment that didn’t allow cats. The only thing we could do was have him put to sleep. It was so sad. I reemmber the day my dad was going to take him in. My mom asked if I wanted to go see him one more time. I couldn’t bear to see him knowing it would be “goodbye”, so I shook my head no. He was such a nice cat. I have his picture still, sitting on a braided rug my great-grandma made, on my bedroom floor. Sweet Bluey. I fully expect to see him again in Heaven.
Thanks for the memories 🙂
— Leafy
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Oh my, Leafy, I loved that you kept the one shoe to kill bugs! How hysterical! I laughed out loud when I read that. No, my rooster did not have a name, there was no time to give him one. I think Bluecifer is a very inventive name. The most inventive name I can think of for a pet was our first dog as a married couple, who was named Tisha. No, that name isn’t all that unusual, however, where it came from is. As an angst-driven teen who wrote sad and sappy poetry, I decided I needed a pen-name. It was … get ready for this … Tisha Cantessa Gihran! What a moniker! Ah, those years of youth ….
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Oh I love your pen name!! And that’s a whopper of one!! When I was little I dreamed of being famous and decided my stage name would be Linda Day. I just liked the name of it. Imagine my dismay when an actress with that very name showed up on TV one day, who later became known as Linda Day George when she married Christopher George. Well, the nerve! I knew then I would have to think of a different stage name, but I don’t think I ever did. However in thinking of pen names as a writer, I have considered adopting the first name of Dallas, because my dad had wanted to name me that, having lived there and having loved living there. However I don’t know what last name I might use with that. My real name won’t do. Doesn’t go good with Dallas. But I will think of something, but I’m sure it will never beat your most unique and elegant name!!
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