Just like my Mets ...
In all actuality, when I look back over the last two thirds of the summer, I really did manage to keep myself busier than usual, and with things that made me more tired than usual. And I actually did do some blog worthy things. And, in the interests of catching up, I really will blog about them. I may even trick you into thinking you missed my entries by back-dating them and confusing the Hell of you. And, to double your pleasure, I'll even give you a summary of what's been happening since last I blogged (another new verb - googling, surfing, texting, blogging - all new, and I'm getting old.)
So, essentially, I missed blogging for July, August, and most of September (I'm here now, right?) I really will go back and post pictures and more complete accounts, but here's the summary - in July, not much happened. I managed to get to a Mets game with my brother, Mark. I managed to get to a training seminar that Suzanne gave. Sid, my little friend the white rat, died, but not before setting a series of connections in motion to get me involved in making sure that her loving owner soon had another precious rat in her hands.
Then the last weekend of July, A.C., my German Shepherd, picked up his 9th point. The following weekend, he was entered out in Pennsylvania on August 3, 4, and 5 in three shows. I couldn't figure out how to get someone in to take care of the dogs, and I couldn't afford to board them, so I made day trips out to Harrisburg three days in a row. This, I told myself, had better be worth it. That Friday, he picked up his 10th point.
Then, at the Saturday show, he surprised us by picking up his second major, a 4 point win, and coming within 1 point of finishing his championship. As I thought, it was too much to hope that he would finish at Sunday's show. He won the Bred By class, but then walked out of the ring, for the first time not going at least Reserve. So, we sit with 14 points, and since I leave these things up to Sue, his co-owner, breeder and handler, I'll hear when he's been entered for a shot at finishing his championship. And all that driving, which somehow makes me feel all grown up and independent, turned out to also have been worth it.
But, let's harken back to Sid and the plans she made for her owner.
I was brought into a discussion about a little "black and white" rat who was looking for a home and about whom Jane, Sid's owner, had had a dream the night after Sid died. The very next day, she received an e-mail from an old friend, someone who had known Sid, but was unaware that Sid had died. She was asking if Jane would be interested in a little black and white rat who was looking for a new home. Well, after having had that dream, Jane had no choice but to move forward with this, although if you'd asked her, she would have said she wasn't ready to invite a new rat into her life. Sid, apparently, had other plans.
I got involved because someone said perhaps I could bring the rat up to Jane, since plans had already been in place for me to go up to an upcoming seminar, specifically to be there to see Sid. Then, Sid had passed away, and I hadn't really made up my mind about whether or not I'd attend anyway. Almost immediately, these e-mails started, and it seemed that maybe the new rat was nearby, and since everyone thought I was going anyway, maybe I could bring her up to Jane. Turned out, not only was the rat nearby, she was located only about 10 minutes away from me. Her name is Charm, and she is aptly named. As I had with Sid back in April, I spent the two days of the seminar with Charm sleeping down my shirt or visiting with other people from her perch on my shoulder.
I hadn't really been aware of the seed planted by Sid and Charm, or perhaps first planted by Morgan and Morpheus, the two rats I owned back in the 1990s. Or, maybe I had. Within the last couple of months, I'd started purchasing my parrot food and dog food at a little pet shop in Hackettstown. Originally, I'd parked out front on Main St., and hadn't realized that they had rats. But then I discovered it was more convenient to pull into the back lot from the side street, and enter through the back entrance...an entrance which, of course, leads right past the rat tanks. Right past the rat tanks after you walk through the reptile room. 1 + 1 = 2. Feeder tanks. Oy. The seed began to germinate. Early in August, I saw a lovely gold male who was there one week, and I thought, "Hmmm, maybe I should have a rat again." He was there in my mind a lot, and I thought I might pick him up the next time I stopped in. Well, the next time I stopped in, he was gone. And I knew where he'd most likely gone. And the seed grew a little more.
And then one day, late in August, I needed more Evo for the dogs. And the new baby rats had just arrived. And the store lady was right there. So, I asked, "May I see the rats?" She simply flipped the lid off the tank and, nodding, walked away. I put my hand into the tank and focused my thoughts. "Anyone in here want to be with me?" I wondered. Most of the babies scooted into the corners. One or two stayed put. And one, a pretty blue with a white streak across his forehead, stood on his hind legs, and daintily touched my hand with his front paws while he craned his neck to sniff my fingers. Uh oh. I picked him up. He was so scared that he defensively pooped, but he also wriggled his whiskers and sniffed my face, and held steady in my hands. So brave.
I put him back. No, I told myself. You don't need one more thing to take care of. Silly me. I hadn't remembered I needed parrot food, too, so guess where I found myself the next day. And guess which rat came forward a second time. And still I walked away, but this time telling myself that if he was still there the next time I came in, I'd seriously have to consider taking him.
Now, realize I rarely go to this store more than once a month. How could I have forgotten parrot food AND Nutriberries at the same time? I went back the next day to get those pesky Nutriberries, and he was still there, although the population in the feeder tank had ominously thinned. So, the following day, I purchased a travel cage downtown at lunchtime and had it in hand when I stopped in, this time with no cover story, to get my buddy.
Duncan came home. Crow could speak to Duncan about how hard it is to get me to listen sometimes. She's right. Sometimes, they have to shout.
So, here he is. And here he'll stay. Duncan Potter the Small, who's taken a large, rat-sized bite out of my heart.
More to come on catch up. You'll have to settle for the tale of the rat for now.
"Hi. Whatcha bring me? Oatmeal? Is there anything else?"