Posted by Kimberly on November 21st, 2006 — Posted in Kipple, iVillage, At Least It Wasn't A Gerbil
I killed the fish.
I finally got around to cleaning his bowl this week. And I had the brilliant idea that maybe he’d like some more space than what’s provided in the teeny tiny little $3.00 cannister we bought to hold him. With the plant I got him to jazz up the place last time I was at the pet store, you can hardly see him swimming around in there so I got down a large glass vase and put him in that (after taking appropriate measures, of course).
At first I thought that Princess Sparklefairy was so delighted by his new digs that he was darting to and fro, enjoying the freedom. Turns out I was witnessing his deaththroes. Maybe the drastic change in environment was too much for him and he had a heart attack?
No way to hide this one from the Shaolin Toddler, either. She was right there with me, “helping” to take care of the fishy. Worse, she was a horrified witness to Princess Sparklefairy’s final indignity: In attempting to rescue him from his watery grave, I accidentally dumped the fish down the sink.
So. That’s two down. Do we try this again, understanding that Princess Sparklefairy lost a considerable amount of his sparkle the minute the furball made an appearance, or do we rechristen the kitten in honour of her fallen comrade and keep the memory (if not the actual fish) alive?
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Posted by Kimberly on November 12th, 2006 — Posted in The Ladies, Kipple, iVillage, At Least It Wasn't A Gerbil
The furball has come out from under the bed. She’s not quite ready to join the family yet, but she’s making it known that she will not be ignored, either. She’s more than happy to hide, tantilizingly out of reach, so long as she’s got an audience. But, should we have the audacity to get on with our lives, she sudden appears, with a mew that is an endearing combination of indignant, piteous, and imperious, to put us in our places.
She’s still without a name; it appears I used up all my whimsy and creativity on the less cool pet, which, come to think of it, seems only fair. The Ladies’ rather uninspired suggestions of “Blackie” and “Fluffy” were summarily rejected, and I was unable to convince them that “Sheba” or “Pagan” would be the perfect name for our little black ball of fluff. They were equally unimpressed with my fallback suggestion of “‘George.” At one point, Diva Girl suggested that we rename Princess Sparklefairy and bestow her moniker on the cat. I feel dirty to say that I considered it, but ultimately decided that the only thing the poor fish has going for it in the face of such undeniable cutelness is its cool name.
Right now we’re leaning towards “Nyx,” but much though I love the name, I’m not sure if I’m committed yet. But if we don’t come up with something soon, the poor thing is going to think “here, kitty kitty!” is actually her name. Who knew naming a pet would be so hard? I sure didn’t have this much trouble with The Ladies’ names!
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Posted by Kimberly on November 11th, 2006 — Posted in Kipple, iVillage, At Least It Wasn't A Gerbil
Last week, there was a crack in my “no pets” armour, and we got a fish. Today, the walls came crumbling down: We got a kitten.
Yeah, I didn’t see it coming either. I figured we’d bask in the clammy glow of fishy ownership for a while and then maybe start entertaining the possibility of a hamster or some other, cooler rodent (but not a gerbil. I am firmly anti-gerbil and no amount of warm fuzzies is going to change my mind on that one).
But…Then there were a bunch of kittens rescued by Animal Alert. And they needed homes, desperately. So, flushed with the success of Princess Sparklefairy 2.0 (the original Princess having been simply flushed), I volunteered to foster a kitten.
Which is how I came to have an adorable little bit of black fluff hiding under my bed and two little girls sprawled on the floor debating names.
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Posted by Kimberly on November 1st, 2006 — Posted in Kipple, iVillage, At Least It Wasn't A Gerbil
Well, that was quicker than even I expected.
Princess Sparklefairy, sadly, is no longer with us. It appears that while we were making our daily commute to school, he was making an ill advised bid for freedom. We came home to find his shrivelled remains lying next to his bowl.
Note to self, next time (because you just know that we’re going to have to replace the fish asap) do not fill the bowl high enough to allow a successful suicide attempt.
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Posted by Kimberly on October 30th, 2006 — Posted in The Ladies, Kipple, iVillage, At Least It Wasn't A Gerbil
Yesterday Meredith Viera wrote a great post about pets, and how they change the tenor of a space, helping to make a house into a home. It was a particularly timely post for me, because this weekend, I finally broke down and bought The Ladies their very first pet.
I’m a cat person. I remember getting my first cat, Muffin, when I was just a little bit older than Regan is now. She was a great cat, a quirky stray who was a charming combination of goofy and vicious. I remember dressing her up in doll clothes, pushing her in my buggy, sharing my Smarties with her, and watching her terrorize the neighbours’ dog. She liked to fight raindrops and pencils, was afraid of paper, and forced my dad to shoo her off his chair every dinnertime of her entire life. I adored that cat; having her around enriched my childhood immensely. I loved the cats we had after Muffin–a pair of Siamese who were quirky in their own ways–but I think there’s something special about your first pet.
I’d always intended for The Ladies to have a pet, but somehow we’d just never gotten around to it. Too small apartments, not enough money, and the general stressors of keeping the human members of the family thriving all conspired against adding a furry member to our family, and we’ve remained petless. When Sabrina was a baby, it wasn’t much of an issue, but as she’s gotten older, our petless state has become an ongoing issue.
At nearly 8, she’s old enough to be trotting out all of the standard arguements: “I’ll feed it and take it for walks!” “I’ll clean up after it!” “It doesn’t have to be a kitten (even though that’s what I really want). I’d be happy with a hamster.” Me? I’ve hung tough on the standard mom position of “I have enough to do keeping the two of you alive. And with the Shaolin Toddler still untrained, our apartment is too small to be adding more poop.”
On Saturday, we went to Old Navy so that I could look at work clothes. The PetSmart is right next door. We went in to coo over the kittens as a reward for their good behaviour in the changeroom. We left with Princess Sparklefairy, our brand new Siamese Fighting Fish.
It wasn’t the hamster Diva Girl had lobbied for, or the skinny pig that I secretly found pretty cool, but it’s a pet of their very own, and that seems to be enough for The Ladies. They are absolutely enamoured with their pet, greeting her in the morining, feeding her together, spending long minutes just watching her do her fishy things in the bowl. She may not be cuddly, but she’s theirs, and they are thrilled with their newfound responsibilities.
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Posted by Kimberly on October 2nd, 2006 — Posted in Kipple, iVillage, At Least It Wasn't A Gerbil
So, I pulled the classic mom move did a bait and switch with the fish. Princess Sparklefairy has been replaced and the Shaolin Toddler is none the wiser.
Diva Girl knows, though. At 8, it would’ve been hard to hide the empty fish bowl from her. Heck, Regan noticed the empty bowl. It’s just that at 2.5, Regan will still believe you if you happen to tell her that Princess Sparklefairy is on a playdate at the pet store and will be back tomorrow. Sabrina just isn’t that guillable anymore. She is, however, just happy to have another shot at this pet ownership thing.
So, this time, put a lid on the bowl. Anything else I need to know? Or should I just plan on Princess Sparklefairy the Third? Or just dive in and get the damn hamster?
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