Pet Monologues

When kids go back to school, pets can get lonely.

With children all over the area heading back to school, what happens to pets once their playmates are gone for the day? Read the rest of this entry »

Imagine returning to your home after a long vacation. You pick up your pets from the kennel, unload your luggage and head to bed to recover from the long drive. But your sleep is anything but restful. All night, you’re plagued by tiny pinpricks and incessant itching. It doesn’t take you long to figure out that you’re being attacked by a seemingly infinite mob of hungry fleas.

An Adult Flea
Photo courtesy CDC/Vector Ecology & Control Laboratory, Fort Collins, Colo.

What happened? Did your pets pick up an infestation at the kennel? Did the vampire-like insects hitch a ride on your luggage? Or did a swarm of them decide to move in while you were gone?

It’s a creepy idea, but the most likely answer is that the fleas were waiting for you. Fleas are parasites—or life forms that feed on hosts—often harming the host in some way. Fleas use their hosts’ blood as food. They generally prefer the blood of four-legged animals to human blood, so before you went on vacation, the fleas fed on your pets, not on you.

Although newly emerged fleas need to find food within a few days, adults can go for a couple of months without a meal. Flea pupae can also stay in their cocoons for up to a year, waiting to sense the body heat and vibrations that signal the presence of nearby hosts. So when you go on vacation, the fleas don’t starve to death — they simply wait for you and your pets to come back. Read the rest of this entry »

by Terry

My dog’s name is Fluffy. I call him Fluffy because he fell in the dryer when he was a puppy and his fur got all weird and fuzzy. Kittywitty, my cat, I found in a dumpster on a vacant lot. She’s real skinny and white and has a long nose, and my dad says she looks like a ferret. But she’s real neat and does these neat tricks like rolling over and sitting up – like a dog does. But she’s a cat. This is what makes her neat. I have a bird, too. Named Pepper. We keep him in a cage in our den. One time, when I had him out playing with him, he got loose and made a mess all over the house that smelled bad for a long time.

My pet turtle’s name is Floyd. I named him after my favorite uncle, who kinda looks like a turtle himself. We got him at the five-and-dime store. He stays in a plastic bowl we keep in the kitchen window. He loves the sun and stretches his neck and legs way out just like he’s sunbathing. He sleeps a lot, and sometimes it’s hard to tell If he’s dead or alive. I had another cat, but he got run over by a United Parcel truck. I buried him under a rose bush. That’s the only trouble with pets. You get to like them a lot, and when something happens to them, it makes you real sad.

Source: Cedar Park Middle School

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 »

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 »

I woke up at 6:30 this morning to take my ex-roommate’s cat to the vet. I guess he’s my cat now. His name is Max and he’s a very skinny orange tabby cat. He came complete with a fifteen second memory span and he has only one facial expression, which is blank. I often wonder if he was somebody’s genetic cloning experiment. That or if he is suffering from fetal alcohol syndrome. He’s just a living cat with barely a hint of character.

I’m trying to give him a personality but it’s difficult. I wonder if my techniques are working. The first technique is to hold him tightly against my chest and speak nonsense to him, kiss his face really hard, and then let him jump out of my arms to freedom. This does not seem to have any effect on him. He just looks mildly bewildered. The second technique is to spank his rump playfully. Again, there’s not much response. Not even the cliché look of superiority most normal cats constantly wear. But I haven’t picked Max up in days and have hardly petted him. I’ve even locked him out of my room. I’m disgusted by him right now. To get my mind off him I think about today’s homework. My teacher wants me to write about something I know a lot about. I glance at a picture of Evan, framed and sitting on my nightstand, where I can see it every night before I go to sleep. I think about Evan’s life and its tragic ending. I wonder if I should write about him. Read the rest of this entry »

I have had three guide dogs, and they have all been attuned to my moods. If I am depressed, they seem to be; and if I am happy, they will reflect that, too.

My first guide dog moved with me to Memphis, Tennessee. We didn’t get back home to Nashville very often. Once, I remember, it was three years since we had been there. Yet every time we traveled back to Memphis, my dog would sleep until we were almost there. Then she’d wake up when we got near home! Also, she remembered that we used to live in Nashville, and when we’d go downtown, she’d always still stop at some of the places we used to go when we lived there! I found lots of old friends that way. This never ceased to amaze me how she could do that!

Source: paranormal.about.com