Go Back Where You Came From

My parents moved to Florida several years ago to satisfy American retirement law.

There are some things to be expected from living in Florida. It is incredibly humid. The rural areas are crawling with mosquitoes and meth-heads. Occasionally, you lose a dog to a hungry alligator.

However, one thing they did not anticipate was the presence of huge freaking snakes.

The Burmese python is one of the five largest species of snakes in the entire world. They are indigenous to Southeast Asia, but somehow they are now breeding like rabbits in the Everglades. Which is ironic since these snakes basically decimated the marsh rabbit population of the area.

They have no natural predators. They can eat basically anything and they multiply pretty quickly while having a 20+ year life span. Plus, they are not easy to locate or track. These snakes are wreaking havoc in the area and there doesn't seem to be a solution in sight.

Plants and animals being introduced to parts of the world where they are not from often causes issues. Sometimes major issues. The Midwest waterways are being destroyed by the Asian carp which showed up a few decades ago. They are voracious eaters who reproduce quickly and have no natural predators in the area. They are choking out many of the local species and actually changing the condition of the water making it unlivable for many other species. This is just one of many examples of how placing living things where they don't belong is never a good idea. Much like how Maroon 5 should have never played the Super Bowl halftime show. Who thought that would be a good idea?

The cane toad was brought intentionally from Central America to Australia to help curb the crop pest population and it was great at keeping bug populations down. However, it also oozes a toxin from its skin. The predators in Central America were immune to this toxin, but the animals in the new habitat of Australia were not. Now there's poison frog goo all over the ground killing the local plants and animals.  And, in my opinion, poison goo is one of the worst kinds of goo.

There are tons of stories of invasive species ruining ecosystems all over the world. In fact, stepping outside your home is a virtual nightmare of foreign monsters everywhere. However, there is one invasive species that seems much more out of place than any of the others.

When the drug kingpin Pablo Escobar was shot dead in 1993, the Colombian government took control of his estate which included a large number of animals from all around the world. They captured and relocated all the animals. Some back to their native lands and some were placed in zoos and animal sanctuaries. However, there were four hippos that were left behind in a pond to fend for themselves. Click here for the story.

Since then, these Columbian cartel hippos have escaped that pond and gotten into the local river and started multiplying. There are now several dozen members to this hippo harem and the local authorities have no idea what to do about it.

I propose a solution. All the hippos should be given full scholarships to Florida State. I believe cocaine-fueled, sex-crazed hippos would fit right in with any of the fraternities there and they would become Florida's problem.

Now if we could just get Piers Morgan and Justin Beiber to go back to where they came from.

Evil Urban Empire

This is NOT the view from my house.

For a little over a month now, I've been living in the big city of Indianapolis. This is the biggest city (844,000) I have ever lived in. I was in San Juan, Puerto Rico for a year, but it only had 400,000.

There are some major differences between living in the country and living in a big city, but I'm proud to say I have always made the transition fairly well. It's true that I can't pee in my front yard anymore. In fact, I don't even have a front yard. Or a back yard for that matter. Also, as much as I don't like people, I have found it very easy to ignore the multitude of them I am surrounded by. Actually, this is easier to in the city than it was in the country.

Growing up, I really didn't give big city life much thought, but there was one thing I knew. All country people and small town folk know.

You just aren't as safe in the city.

Before leaving my hometown (pop. 400), the worst actual crime committed against me involved someone stealing my garbage and dumping it on the side of the road a mile away. I still don't know what that was about, but I cleaned it up while the police watched. I never found out who did it and the police didn't believe it wasn't me.

Years later, on my first trip to San Juan, I got mugged.

Now, I was in a bad neighborhood and we had been warned to stay indoors after dark, but Dave and I couldn't bear our first night in the Caribbean locked inside someone's house. We just wanted to take a walk. It didn't end well.

Years later, when I actually moved there, someone broke the window on my SUV and stole my wife's purse, which happened to have her wedding ring in it as well as all her identification. These things didn't happen back home in small-town Southern Illinois.

When I moved to Indianapolis, (less than 5 weeks ago) it took all of eight days for my apartment to be robbed. They didn't just rob me, they took something very personal. My pet.

That is a python named Dr. Finklerstein that

we have had for over three years.

When I first moved in, I was told the entire complex was getting new windows. Management would send me a note the day before so I could prep my apartment by moving everything away from the windows.  They didn't send me that note. I left my apartment one day to discover they were putting in windows downstairs. I asked if they were doing the upstairs as well and discovered that I needed to go move some of my things. I then left for the day.

Get in the POT!!!

When I came home, I had beautiful new windows, but later discovered that Dr. Finklerstein was not in his terrarium. I searched all through the house as Kirsten cried on the couch, "That dirty Mexican took him." 

I don't know how she became so racist.

"He took him home to eat him! Snake is a delicacy in Mexico, you know?"

Um...actually, I don't know if that's true.

I searched through all the dresser drawers, behind the shelves, in the boxes that were only half unpacked and as much behind the water heater as I could see. He was nowhere to be found. And my apartment isn't very big.

I finally relented and did what Kirsten was begging me to do. I called apartment management.

The immediate reaction of the woman on phone was of concern for a loose python in the building. I gently tried to reassure her that this was not the case. I've had this snake for three years and he has never gotten out of his enclosure. I told her that I didn't want to accuse anyone, but it seemed odd that he just happened to disappear on the day someone was in my apartment. I understood they couldn't really do anything about this, but I wanted to make a report in case others reported things missing. I also told her I would not be letting people in my apartment unsupervised anymore. Apartment employees included.

The snake has never escaped from his cage EVER. It's weird that the one time people are in our house the snake disappears...
— Kirstey Minor (@KirsteyKitten) December 27, 2013

While Kirsten was tweeting her rage, I continued looking. Every day for the next week, I expected to see him stick his head out from behind the water heater. I think I got obsessed with the water heater because it was a heat source. I just expected him to gravitate toward it. I finally gave up. Kirsten must be right. Someone fried him up into python nuggets. Or took him home to give to their kids like I did. We're a strange house.

Almost three weeks later, I discover him sleeping on a pile of clothes in a box I had yet to unpack.

I immediately call management to let them know the snake has been found. She responded, "Great. I'll let your neighbors know."

Wonderful. They notified all my neighbors.

At least we'll have something to talk about in the spring when I actually venture outside.

SNOWPOCALYPSE - Redux

I am down to my last week of class for the semester and have a huge assignment looming over me. When I sat down to write tonight's post, I couldn't concentrate, so here is a post from two years ago. I wrote this in the midst of the huge snow storm two years ago not knowing if we were going to survive.

---

For the last few days the National Weather Service has been warning us that the largest storm to hit the area since weather started being recorded in 1886 is coming to kill us all.  The forecast was a few days of ice with up to an inch of accumulation and then 12 to 18 inches of snow.  Since history is about to be made and I knew about it ahead of time, I started chronicling the events for future generations.

January 30, 2011

7:28pm        Arrive at Wal-Mart to stock up for the impending doom.  I get everything on my list, but know there is something I haven’t thought of.

January 31, 2011

12:43pm      Right on time, the ice starts falling from the sky and coating everything.

1:30pm        Central A&M (Kirsten’s school) calls it a day and sends the students home.  Ice continues to fall.

6:30pm        Receive text that Central A&M is cancelled for the following day.

6:32pm        The ice storm stops.

February 1, 2011

5:59am        Receive text that LCU (Lincoln Christian University – my school) is closing for the day.

6:03am        It occurs to me that I take online classes so the closure does not really affect me.

11:18am      The ice starts falling again, but much harder and accompanied by 35 m.p.h. gusts of wind.

12:30pm      Receive text telling me not to come to work that day.

4:25:17pm   The power goes out

4:25:19pm   Hear cursing from next apartment and loud exclamation, “NO!!!  I WAS RIGHT AT THE END OF THE LEVEL!!!  I HAVEN’T SAVED IT!!!”

4:26pm        Locate a flashlight and establish martial law in the apartment.  Do not open the fridge or the front door.

5:05pm        Receive text to not go to work the next day.

5:08pm        Without television, decided to watch the storm out the window.

5:12pm        Observed unprepared neighbor trying to chip the ice off his windshield with a hatchet.

5:19pm        Observed neighbor give up and go back inside.

5:26:03pm   Alex (Kirsten’s boyfriend) offers for us to ride out the outage at his house with his parents.

5:26:12pm    I tell Kirsten I am staying to keep the pipes from freezing and the python since his heat lamp was out and he is cold-blooded.

5:26:17pm   Kirsten leaves me alone in the apartment.

5:48pm        Receive text that Central A&M is canceled for next day.

5:54pm        The sun sets and the apartment is in total darkness.

5:56pm        I stub my toe on kitchen table.

6:03pm        I remember the thing I forgot when I was stocking up for this storm: candles.

6:08pm        I speak to my parents in Florida to let them know what is going on.  They tell me about their new shorts and the fish they caught that day.

6:14pm        I decide not to talk to my parents again until June.

6:18pm        The wind picks up and the trees start breaking off.

6:23pm        I step out into the stairwell to converse with the neighbors about the declaration that people are not allowed to leave town.  Road travel has been forbidden.

6:29pm        The neighbors start drawing straws to determine who has to make a cigarette run.

8:09pm        Our python wakes up and comes out of his resting place to seek out heat.  Since the heat lamp is out, I put him in my sweatshirt.

8:12pm        An ungrateful reptile bites me on the nipple.

8:19pm        I stub my toe in the bathroom.

8:35pm        Receive text from Kirsten that she is ready to come home.  Apparently, she was just going to visit for a while.

8:37pm        Begin scraping windshield.

8:43pm        Wishing I had a hatchet.

8:56pm        Decided that the 2 foot square section I cleared would have to be enough. Started van.

9:03pm        Finally got maneuvered out of parking lot.

9:04pm        Stopped a half-block from the apartment.  Windshield was frozen again.

9:06pm        Discover that I am stuck in the middle of the road.

9:09pm        Got loose in time to have to clean the windshield again.

9:12pm        Used my memory to guess where I was going since I gave up trying to see.

9:17pm        Retrieved Kirsten and battled our way back home.

9:32pm        Arrive at home after this 30 minute adventure.  (Kirsten was only 4 blocks away.)  I should have just walked.

9:54pm        Power comes back on.

9:56pm        While putting flashlight away I find a box of candles.

After 4 hours and 29 minutes, the power is back on and hope is restored.  I pray that my records serve as a guiding light for future generations as they reflect on this dark period.

February 2, 2011

7:08am        Punxsutawney Phil predicts early spring.

Danger Mouse Must Sign A Release Form

Today, I finally broke down and bought the toy that I've wanted for the last year. I bought a Kindle Fire. It has so many features, I am still learning how to use it, but I love it.

As much as I'm enjoying my new toy, getting it was not nearly as enjoyable. I will break this story up into two parts. I know how pleased everyone was last time I did a 'TO BE CONTINUED.'<sup>*

*</sup>Hopefully, the sarcasm was noticed.

I bought it from a Best Buy over an hour from my home. I had to travel for unrelated business anyway and decided to get it while I was there. I had arrived 30 minutes before the store was open, so I wandered around some of the other stores to pass some time. I have a tendency to get into trouble if I don't keep myself busy.

All dogs go to heaven,
but cats burn in eternal fire

One of those stores was a Petco. After spending a few minutes looking at the animals, I decided to get a feeder mouse^* for Dr. Finklerstein.  

^*'Feeder mouse' is a nice way of saying 'snake food.'

Dr. Finklerstein is a python…and he eats live mice. In case you didn't catch that part. Well, he kills them first, and then eats them. So, I am buying a mouse to toss in a cage to be eaten by a snake.

It is very important to the story that you understand that.

I ask one of the employees to get me a feeder mouse and he dashes off. After several minutes, he comes back, hands me a paper and says, "Fill this out and date it."

Without even glancing at it, I started to just give it back to him. I hate when stores ask for my information. I decline to provide it because they don't actually need my info for me to make a purchase. Plus, I don't want to get a bunch of mail from them, electronic or otherwise.

As I start to hand it back, I see the word 'AGREEMENT' at the top. This made me curious. I read the paper and realized it was a disclaimer form promising that I would treat the animal I was purchasing in a humane fashion and would not intentionally let it come to harm.

Let me remind you again that I was only buying this mouse to feed it to a snake!

After reading it, I looked up at the employee. He stared back at me with eyes that clearly said, "I know. Please don't say it."

My eyes pleaded with his, "I want to say it."

He glared back and his eyes spoke with intensity, "Can't you tell I think this is stupid too?"

I furrowed my brow and even shook the paper for effect as my eyes challenged his, "But you're the one who gave me the paper."

He then sighed and gave me a sad look that said, "I can't get your mouse until you sign it" or it might have said, "I hate my job." I'm not very good at reading visual cues. Either way, I signed the paper promising not to harm the mouse.

Despite the fact that he knew I was lying since I had asked for a feeder mouse, he retrieved one for me. I tried to hand him the signed agreement, but he instructed me to present it at the register when I checked out.

As the check out girl was ringing up my mouse, she asked for the humane treatment document. I handed it to her and asked, "You do know that I am only buying this mouse for snake food, right?"

She shot me a look that sternly communicated, "You do know that I only make minimum wage, right?"

I took my receipt and new doomed pet out of the store and headed toward Best Buy. It was time to get my Kindle, but the story of that store will have to wait until tomorrow.

Tune in to our next post for the conclusion to this harrowing tale and answers to the questions:

• Will Best Buy also have asinine paperwork?
• Does the mouse have an opinion about any of this?
• Will Brett continue to communicate with his eyes or will he switch to using a finger?

These questions and many more will be answered in the next post…or maybe not.

The Turtle Whisperer

Sunday afternoon we had a fish fry at my parents' house. We had a great time telling jokes, eating and laughing together. My parents just got back from being in Florida for the last six months, so it was great to get the whole family together again.

My daughter named him Lynus.

After the meal, we were hanging around outside and my mother walked up with a box turtle she had just found near the pond. I immediately decided to bring it home to give to our 4 year old neighbor. I don't know if she likes turtles, but did know that it might upset her mother. She gets upset with me over little things like teaching her daughter to pet bees or eat dirt. I don't know why I enjoy it so much, but I do.

When we got home, the neighbors weren't home, so I left the turtle outside and went in to do some homework. I went out every now and then to check on him and he was always within a few feet of where I had left him.

After a few hours, I forgot about Lynus and quit checking on him. In fact, I never thought about him again until I was taking Kirsten to school the next morning. A few hundred feet from our house, we passed him on the road.

I could have gotten a better picture,
but decided that a close up was unnecessary.

I don't know how long it took him to get that far or know where he was trying to go, but I don't feel too bad because I had warned him about the road the day before. I should have known better since every turtle I have ever known has been resistant to any sort of instruction. I think it's the way they are raised. Hundreds of years of them retelling the story of  The Tortoise and the Hare to their children gives them a false sense of accomplishment.

Don't call Turtle Protective Services on me, because I did my part. Plus, even if they do come, it takes them forever to get here.

The demise of Lynus reminded me that it was time to feed our surviving pet, Dr. Finklerstein. He only eats once every two to three weeks, so it slips my mind sometimes. I ran to the pet store to buy his food. I gave him the food and something happened. It looked at me.

Isn't he cute? We named him Norman.
TIP: Don't name your food.

This had never happened before.

Dr. Finklerstein (my daughter named him) is a ball python and he eats mice. In the past, knowing that I am purchasing something that is just going to be eaten, I have never given it much thought. I get home, I toss the food in the cage and I walk away. However, Norman had a personality.

Say something. ANYTHING!

So, I took him out of the cage and decided to see if he might be one of those super smart mice that could turn me into a master chef or help me become a better teacher or teach me a life lesson or something Maybe he was waiting for someone to take him seriously as an individual instead of just seeing him as a lowly mouse.

I tried talking to him, but he didn't answer. He didn't even squeak. He just stared at me.  Then I realized that I was being presumptuous in assuming that he would speak English. So, I spoke to him in Spanish. Still no response.

My daughter, insinuating how stupid I can be, snidely asked if I had ever seen Ratatouille. 

 "Mice," she said, "speak French, not Spanish. DUH!"

Insinuating how stupid she can be, I responded, "Those were rats, not mice. DUH!"

Since my daughter has had a year of high school French, she tried to communicate with Norman. We still don't know if Norman speaks French or not since all Kirsten knows is how to count to twelve or ask for the nearest bathroom. Where do our education tax dollars go?

Not wanting to give up, I tried one more tactic to give him the opportunity to communicate with us.

He just kept hitting the asterisk over and over.
He is either an imbecile or is cursing at me.

Dr F had been
waiting patiently.

Frustrated, I sought out one more opinion. Dr. Finklerstein had been watching this play out and hissing at our feeble efforts. He was beginning to grow impatient.

I asked him what he thought and got no response.

"Do you think Norman is special?"

The Doctor (snake) stuck his tongue out at me.

"Should we give him another test?"

The Doctor stuck his tongue out at me.

He even turned his back on me.

I was beginning to get the impression that Dr. Finklerstein was in a bad mood, so I put him back in his cage.

I told him we could not move forward until they worked this out between the two of them. I put Norman in the cage and left so they could have their privacy to discuss this without any biased influence from me.

I checked back in on them an hour later only to discover that Norman was no longer there. I guess they never came to an agreement and he just stormed off.

SNOWPOCALYPSE - WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!

For the last few days the National Weather Service has been warning us that the largest storm to hit the area since weather started being recorded in 1886 is coming to kill us all.  The forecast was a few days of ice with up to an inch of accumulation and then 12 to 18 inches of snow.  Since history is about to be made and I knew about it ahead of time, I started chronicling the events for future generations.

January 30, 2011

7:28pm        Arrive at Wal-Mart to stock up for the impending doom.  I get everything on my list, but know there is something I haven’t thought of.

January 31, 2011

12:43pm      Right on time, the ice starts falling from the sky and coating everything.

1:30pm        Central A&M (Kirsten’s school) calls it a day and sends the students home.  Ice continues to fall.

6:30pm        Receive text that Central A&M is cancelled for the following day.

6:32pm        The ice storm stops.

February 1, 2011

5:59am        Receive text that LCU (Lincoln Christian University – my school) is closing for the day.

6:03am        It occurs to me that I take online classes so the closure does not really affect me.

11:18am      The ice starts falling again, but much harder and accompanied by 35 m.p.h. gusts of wind.

12:30pm      Receive text telling me not to come to work that day.

4:25:17pm   The power goes out

4:25:19pm   Hear cursing from next apartment and loud exclamation, “NO!!!  I WAS RIGHT AT THE END OF THE LEVEL!!!  I HAVEN’T SAVED IT!!!”

4:26pm        Locate a flashlight and establish martial law in the apartment.  Do not open the fridge or the front door.

5:05pm        Receive text to not go to work the next day.

5:08pm        Without television, decided to watch the storm out the window.

5:12pm        Observed unprepared neighbor trying to chip the ice off his windshield with a hatchet.

5:19pm        Observed neighbor give up and go back inside.

5:26:03pm   Alex (Kirsten’s boyfriend) offers for us to ride out the outage at his house with his parents.

5:26:12pm    I tell Kirsten I am staying to keep the pipes from freezing and the python since his heat lamp was out and he is cold-blooded.

5:26:17pm   Kirsten leaves me alone in the apartment.

5:48pm        Receive text that Central A&M is canceled for next day.

5:54pm        The sun sets and the apartment is in total darkness.

5:56pm        I stub my toe on kitchen table.

6:03pm        I remember the thing I forgot when I was stocking up for this storm: candles.

6:08pm        I speak to my parents in Florida to let them know what is going on.  They tell me about their new shorts and the fish they caught that day.

6:14pm        I decide not to talk to my parents again until June.

6:18pm        The wind picks up and the trees start breaking off.

6:23pm        I step out into the stairwell to converse with the neighbors about the declaration that people are not allowed to leave town.  Road travel has been forbidden.

6:29pm        The neighbors start drawing straws to determine who has to make a cigarette run.

8:09pm        Our python wakes up and comes out of his resting place to seek out heat.  Since the heat lamp is out, I put him in my sweatshirt.

8:12pm        An ungrateful reptile bites me on the nipple.

8:19pm        I stub my toe in the bathroom.

8:35pm        Receive text from Kirsten that she is ready to come home.  Apparently, she was just going to visit for a while.

8:37pm        Begin scraping windshield.

8:43pm        Wishing I had a hatchet.

8:56pm        Decided that the 2 foot square section I cleared would have to be enough. Started van.

9:03pm        Finally got maneuvered out of parking lot.

9:04pm        Stopped a half-block from the apartment.  Windshield was frozen again.

9:06pm        Discover that I am stuck in the middle of the road.

9:09pm        Got loose in time to have to clean the windshield again.

9:12pm        Used my memory to guess where I was going since I gave up trying to see.

9:17pm        Retrieved Kirsten and battled our way back home.

9:32pm        Arrive at home after this 30 minute adventure.  (Kirsten was only 4 blocks away.)  I should have just walked.

9:54pm        Power comes back on.

9:56pm        While putting flashlight away I find a box of candles.

After 4 hours and 29 minutes, the power is back on and hope is restored.  I pray that my records serve as a guiding light for future generations as they reflect on this dark period.

February 2, 2011

7:08am        Punxsutawney Phil predicts early spring.

Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!

Yesterday was a sad day in the Minor house.  One of our beloved pets died.  We have had him for a little over a year, but this morning Kirsten got up and immediately noticed that his usual spot was empty which reminded her of the previous day’s events.  No more snuggling up to watch a movie together.  No more playing fetch.  No more protection for the house.  He is gone and will be missed. 

Actually, none of those things were ever done.  He rarely even got out of his cage.  Guests to our house begged us not to get him out and only a few were ever brave enough to even touch him.  Our pet’s name was Hitler and he was a tarantula.

R.I.P Hitler

Tarantulas are fairly large spiders to begin with and Hitler was no exception.  He was the same size as my hand.  When he would rear up on his back legs to try to be threatening (it was so cute), he was about 4 inches tall.  He could be quite intimidating when he wanted to be.

Hitler ruled his cage.  Anything that went in there (crickets, frogs, other spiders, hands changing his bedding) didn’t last long, but something changed when we moved here.  We arrived here last November and he hasn’t really eaten since then.  Crickets would be taken down within a matter of minutes before, but these last eight weeks he hasn’t cared that they were in his cage.  He seemed more active at first, but it didn’t last long.  He was a fun and interesting pet and will be missed.

Now we only have one animal.  His name is Dr. Finklerstein (both pets were named by my daughter).  Within 48 hours of getting Dr. Finklerstein home, he bit my son’s wrist and my daughter’s neck.  This pet is much more aggressive than Hitler was, much larger and faster, but more fun to play with.  Dr. Finklerstein is a python.

Dr. Finklerstein & Kirsten

We had a different python years ago named Monty.  Yep, Monty Python.  He was a very docile creature.  He would run loose in the house and liked to hang out in the closet.  Kirsten was about a year old and would drag Monty around the house by his tail and kiss him on the head.  He didn’t seem to care.  Dr. Finklerstein, however, would never tolerate such behavior.  He could be sitting in your lap, enjoying the warmth of the sun and suddenly bite you under the arm because you reached for a soda.  He would then coil back and glare as if to say, “How dare you?  You didn’t ask if you could move.  Try it again.  I dare you.”

As terrifying as that may sound to some people, it is not as bad as you would think.  Pythons are not poisonous and do not have fangs.  They do have teeth at the backs of their jaws for gripping.  They have very small teeth-like things surrounding the rest of their mouth for the same reason.  When he bites, it feels like getting flicked with a finger.  You feel it, but it doesn’t hurt.  My daughter was bitten behind the ear the day after we got him.  If it had been painful, that would have been the last time she would have wanted to play with him.  Painful or not, very few guests want to handle him.

He is not a problem as long as he stays off the keyboard

We have always had unusual animals to play with.  When I was a kid, we would rush to the basement when it flooded to see Harry.  Harry was a large, mud-gray salamander that would appear when the basement got wet enough.  We would play with him for a few hours and then put him back.  We had about a half dozen raccoons over the years and a fox.  We even had a few pet skunks.  When I was in high school, my brother Trevor found a newborn deer in the middle of the road and brought it home.  We named it Bird and raised it in the barn.  When he got old enough to venture out he stuck around for several months.  He would play in the yard with the dogs and came running to the house to eat just like they did.  However, the dogs didn’t care to play with him because when Bird played he would butt them in the head.  When I was much younger we had a Rhode Island Red rooster named Rodney that thought it was a dog.  It would follow us around the yard and sit in our laps.  We also had a beer-guzzling horse for a while and we have had our share of run-of-the-mill dogs and cats.  Our last two dogs were golden labs named SPOON and LLAMA.  We had a cat in my childhood named Sir Jonathon Edwards Vincent von Richenstein III.  We called him THREE for short.

I don’t know why we have had so many unusual pets.  A large part of it was just opportunity.  We lived out in the country, so often we just came across these animals.  The last raccoon I had was one that just wandered up onto my porch and wouldn’t go away,  so we kept it.  Sometimes my dad brought them home.  That was how we got the skunks.  Other times it was to take them off of someone else’s hands.  That was how we got the overly-pampered rooster and our first python.  The beer-guzzling horse was just a horse until someone set their beer down within her grasp and she grabbed it up, threw her head back and sucked it down.  She would actually do that with any drink, but it is more interesting to tell the story with beer.

Now we are trying to decide what type of animal to replace Hitler with.  Kirsten thinks she may want some smaller spiders that she won’t be as scared to let crawl on her.  I am leaning towards a hedgehog.  We haven’t decided yet and will have to do some reading and research, but Kirsten already has it named.  Our new pet will be named PROF CREPES ALMIGHTY or DR. JEWISH.