Pet Monologues

This week PM was vastly entertained by several couples who are expecting the birth of a child and witnessing the naming process, if that is what it could be called. Naming a child may be more challenging than naming a pet. Or is it? Well, animals may have more options to choose from and maybe an interesting story behind it. It reminds me of a dog named PD which translated into poor dog because the dog had reached what we describe as rock bottom. Now here is an article to kick this can down the road and see if we can provoke more stories…

By Linda Goldston.

A rose is a rose is a rose—but a pet name? That can be almost anything.

Every year, names like Max, Jake and Buddy show up on many lists of Top 10 names for dogs, while Max, Smokey and Shadow make it on the cat names list. Read the rest of this entry »

A “campfire” story taken from writing.com

[Introduction] Greetings!

note: Hooves of Fire! = author, WRITEING = Demon Squirrel

I, Hooves, have risked life and limb to travel to the deepest recesses of evil for this exclusive (and I hope Emmy winning) interview with the one and only Demon Squirrel. Due to the extreme evil of his countenance, I cannot look directly at him. He will be behind a curtain, speaking through the voice of Ercole who has kindly volunteered to channel the horrible demon’s answers to all of us.

This campfire will consist of me asking the questions (one at a time) and His Evilness answering through the Writeing of ercole, keeping his responses to 5 sentences or less if possible.

And now for the first question as soon as the campfire invitation is accepted. Read the rest of this entry »

Petmonologues was solicited by an author to purchase his new book. He is against commercial dog food. PM also recently listened to a radio talk show about how home-cooked pet food needs to be carefully created because ingredients, or lack of ingredients, affect your pet. For example, animals in the wild eat the whole carcass, i.e., bones, organs, etc., a source of vitamins that may not be in home-cooked food.

PM and all animal-caring individuals applaud that pet foods are squarely in the public eye, and more importantly, on our minds. What is best practice?

When feeding your pet, take into account their needs, their age, their activities, whether it is commercial or home-cooked. We like dry food because it cleans teeth and gums. We portion out wet foods for variety. We don’t feed leftovers for many reasons. If you wish to know those reasons, just ask us. Also, check out PM’s recipe section! Read the rest of this entry »

Abstract

Relationships inevitably develop between humans and animals, regardless of the function or use of the animal partners. The need to recognize the existence of these human-animal bonds, as well as acknowledge the use of the animals, is widespread. Religious memorial services for animals in certain areas of the world provide an historical basis for such acknowledgment activities. The diversity of sacred and secular approaches to memorializing or acknowledging animals is illustrated by representative examples of such events. The need to establish such events, particularly in academic and research settings, is emphasized. The pros and cons of developing and establishing acknowledgment activities in addition to the benefits of implementing such events are discussed. Read the rest of this entry »

Serving up quality prose about animals has been a mission of Pet Monologues from the start. Below are three of many contributing authors who provide our stimulating content. Find out a little bit more about them by clicking on their links. If you wish to contribute or wish to send stories/authors to Pet Monologues, it would be greatly appreciated. PM

Lucia Blinn The stories: Who was Harvey Krane?
John Grogan. The stories: Bringing in breakfast.
Eric Hawxby. The stories: Dead pet stories.
Ward McBurney. The stories: 1) Stupid. 2) Loftus. 3) Get up.

Alright I’ll do it ma. Jes’. Always bothering me to do stuff for ya. God..Why can’t you ask Charles to do it? (Charles is Biff’s brother) Ma? Why can’t you ask Charles to do it? How come I always have to be the one to clean up the dogs poop in the yeard? He never does it!

I know it’s my dog but everybody plays with Sheba so why shouldn’t everybody chip in to clean up her poop? It’s not fair ma and you know it. Then nobody is allowed to pet her. If nobody wants to clean her poop up, then nobody is allowed to pet her.

You can’t return Sheba ma! Come on! Alright, alright I’ll clean up her poop but I still think that this isn’t fair. No, ma! I said I’m gonna clean it. I’m cleaning it now! Just putting on my sneakers.

You happy???

Source:Monologueblogger.com

After sadly losing our Squack, a lovebird, my husband and I did not think of any other pets. Then one day in the Boca News there was a picture of the most beautiful little dog I’ve ever seen. I told my husband that guy is ours. Well, that guy was from a pet mill and Miami Rescue had picked him and several of his friends and relatives away from those awful people. Unfortunately, that picture was very deceiving. Read the rest of this entry »

Scrapper arrived with Kitty I in 1988. He was a big tough ex-feral trapped and snipped aged 10. He had beaten up other cats in the area, but was now down on his luck. He must have been a pet originally and been allowed to stray and go wild. Neutered, cured of fleas, ringworm and a variety of fight and bite wounds, he had sat in the cat shelter for many months awaiting a person who looked beyond his mangled features.
He was a black cat but rather dusty and motheaten. Scrapper sat forlornly in a cat basket for several days, unwilling to leave it while we were there. After a week he suddenly decided that enough was enough and came to watch Blue Peter with me on the sofa. From then on he was my little black shadow and walked to heel! Read the rest of this entry »

Photo of myself in the same wheelbarrow with a now full-grown Sparky.

Sparky was a gift to me from my father on my 8th birthday: July 29, 1955. This was a year after our last dog, Kim, was killed by a car.

Sparky was six weeks old, born on June 17. I think I remember that because Pop’s birthday was July 17 and Mom and Pop’s aniversary was August 17. I think Pop chose Sparky because he had the same coloring as Kim: white with a black head and highlights of brown around he eyes. He also had a black spot on his back. Neutering male dogs was hardly ever done in those days, so naturally I spent a lot of time chasing after Sparky, just like I did chasing after Kim. Unlike Kim, however, Sparky would come eventually, but only when Mom called him. Although I loved Sparky like a brother, he was more of a mama’s dog. That’s probably also because Mom was better at feeding him. Read the rest of this entry »

It looked like a river, and in fact it was a river for all intents and purposes. That is, to God it could be a trickle, a gutter stream, or a sewer rapid; and assuredly he could merely step across it with no problem. But Rat Shipley would have to find that certain kind of bamboo, which Haus always says works great for rafts. He would have to whittle away at these rods with a skinning knife - the only remotely sharp object on him - and then he would have to lash these poles together with hair or shoelaces or maybe these long reeds that seem to be growing on the banks here.

And hoping for the best, Rat Shipley must then shove off, for he can not go back. Forward is the only direction despite not being able to see the other side. Forward across this river…or what appears to be a river.

For all he knows it could be an ocean.

An entry taken from writing.com, a book titled Rat Shipley, written by Piggle.