You know, I have no comment about this picture, but I have to share with someone. This afternoon I caved and gave in to my pet craving. I bought a hamster. I know, this should be under WhyICantStop's addictions entries, but whatever! So I justified it by telling myself it was really for Musa, the caretaker's nine year old son. He wants a pet, too. But Musa is leaving for Ghana in three weeks. I'm not sure he can take the hamster with him to Ghana. If he can't, the hamster is mine. For life. Which, for a hamster, is about two and a half years. Anway, I brought him home in his little cardbord from-the-store-to home box, and set him down on a chest in the living room. I went into the kitchen for a few minutes, and when I came back, the box was on the ground, with a hole chewed in the side, and the hamster was on the loose. I finally caught him (under the longest cast-iron radiator in the state of Connecticut), and put him in a tall wastebasket. I then went to the attic to get my deceased hamster Goldie's cage ( a totally cool Habitrail Habitat), only to find I must have given it away. So, I began to question my sanity. Do I really want another hamster, right now...when I may be moving from the Weir House to Romney, West Virginia at any moment? I tried to call my psychic, but she was at the bingo hall. So I swallowed my pride, took a tablet of Returnital, and took Fancy, the new hamster, back to the pet store. On Monday, I'll call the Ghanaian consulate and see what their laws are governing hamsters. And go from there. Cigar, anyone???
And you guys think I have problems. I am thinking of the Berkshire Babe's peet history here, too. You'd better un-name the hamster to go along with un-owning it.
Qu'est que c'est "peet history". On burnez le peet pour fuelle. Mais je pense que vous pensez a le mauvais chien Dibble. Mon hamstere s'appelle "Fancy". Peut-etre je le re-nomme...Oui! Ca va sans dire. Brad. Ou, melieux que ca, "Achilles".Le petit Fancy est tres fort. Pour hamstere.
Moving to West Virginia? Hamsters are game food in that state. What about a cat? And what about this psychic? How did she not know you were trying to call her?
Dear Oceangurl: Yes. To Romney. Where my idol, Stonewall Jackson, waged his famous campaign to protect Winchester in the winter of 1862. "Hills and mountains surround Romney, making it a natural fortress." It really is divine. My heart is in Romney. But it is also in West Point, the Hudson River Valley. And of course, Connecticut. Where duty calls. I have two cats, but they live in Georgia with my husband and daughter. And about my psychic: She's the best. I'm sure she knew it wasn't that important. How about you?
You know, I have no comment about this picture, but I have to share with someone. This afternoon I caved and gave in to my pet craving. I bought a hamster. I know, this should be under WhyICantStop's addictions entries, but whatever! So I justified it by telling myself it was really for Musa, the caretaker's nine year old son. He wants a pet, too. But Musa is leaving for Ghana in three weeks. I'm not sure he can take the hamster with him to Ghana. If he can't, the hamster is mine. For life. Which, for a hamster, is about two and a half years. Anway, I brought him home in his little cardbord from-the-store-to home box, and set him down on a chest in the living room. I went into the kitchen for a few minutes, and when I came back, the box was on the ground, with a hole chewed in the side, and the hamster was on the loose. I finally caught him (under the longest cast-iron radiator in the state of Connecticut), and put him in a tall wastebasket. I then went to the attic to get my deceased hamster Goldie's cage ( a totally cool Habitrail Habitat), only to find I must have given it away. So, I began to question my sanity. Do I really want another hamster, right now...when I may be moving from the Weir House to Romney, West Virginia at any moment? I tried to call my psychic, but she was at the bingo hall. So I swallowed my pride, took a tablet of Returnital, and took Fancy, the new hamster, back to the pet store. On Monday, I'll call the Ghanaian consulate and see what their laws are governing hamsters. And go from there. Cigar, anyone???
ReplyDeleteAnd you guys think I have problems. I am thinking of the Berkshire Babe's peet history here, too. You'd better un-name the hamster to go along with un-owning it.
ReplyDeleteQu'est que c'est "peet history". On burnez le peet pour fuelle. Mais je pense que vous pensez a le mauvais chien Dibble. Mon hamstere s'appelle "Fancy". Peut-etre je le re-nomme...Oui! Ca va sans dire. Brad. Ou, melieux que ca, "Achilles".Le petit Fancy est tres fort. Pour hamstere.
ReplyDeleteMoving to West Virginia?
ReplyDeleteHamsters are game food in that state. What about a cat? And what about this psychic? How did she not know you were trying to call her?
Dear Oceangurl: Yes. To Romney. Where my idol, Stonewall Jackson, waged his famous campaign to protect Winchester in the winter of 1862.
ReplyDelete"Hills and mountains surround Romney, making it a natural fortress." It really is divine. My heart is in Romney. But it is also in West Point, the Hudson River Valley. And of course, Connecticut. Where duty calls.
I have two cats, but they live in Georgia with my husband and daughter. And about my psychic: She's the best. I'm sure she knew it wasn't that important. How about you?
This is a good example of C's intervention working.
ReplyDeleteIf she is going to hang out a window for a picture..it is better without beer.
So true. But they say the angels watch out for the drunk and the simpleminded. Now she's neither. Oh , Dear!
ReplyDelete