For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
For more "first pets" memories click here and here.
How many of us had budgies as a pet do you think? I doubt it was as popular a pet as a hamster - I mean its not something that you'd cuddle or play with much. In fact, I'm not really that sure I'd give a budgie to a child as a pet. All you can do really is watch them in the cage, or inevitably, when the wee devil inside wants to play, let them out to fly about the house.....
Bingo
“Have you ever had your parents try to disguise the fact your pet is dead?” It happened to me when I was little. I had a budgie called “Bingo”. He was yellowish green and lived in his cage in the livingroom. I used to talk to him every day and he’d tweet back to me quite the thing.
When I came home from school one day I was devastated to find Bingo dead at the bottom of his cage.
“Mum, oh Mum, Bingo’s dead!”.
Well I must have caught her at a bad moment – she was in the middle of a phone call to my Gran and I‘d interrupted her:
“Don’t be silly Julie, Bingo died three weeks ago”!
Then I think she realised what she’d said when she saw the look on my face. She came off the phone pronto and looked over at me.
”Julie, Bingo died three weeks ago and we got a replacement for him because your Dad and I knew how upset you’d be. Really, it’s Bingo2 that’s died”.
Well I couldn’t take it. I stomped off to my room and cried, I couldn’t believe them and what they’d done.
I couldn’t get another Budgie after that could I. I was so upset that Bingo 1 would hate me for it.”
Showing posts with label Pets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pets. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Friday, October 20, 2006
First pet and how it died - another hamster memory
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
Another hamster related memory for you. It seems that these were popular wee pets for kids, and still are, as this memory comes from a mother and the story of her kids first hamster. Again, another memory which lit up the face of the person telling me it. A combination of remembering the event, the horror and the lesson learned. There was a little laughter too...but only a little!
Kylie
“It only happened a couple of years ago actually. I’d never had pets as a kid and it was only when I had kids of my own that I had a pet to look after.
We got the kids a hamster. Nice furry thing called Kylie. Kylie the hamster!
Kylie turned out to be pregnant. Not something we'd planned for of course. She had five babies in all. Of course the kids wanted to keep them and we felt we couldn’t really say no.
They were tiny things – all "skin" and pink. Kylie looked after them well really, making sure they were warm in their bed and giving them milk. The kids were looking after them too – making sure the bedding was clean and playing with “Mummy”.
I was doing the usual bits of housework, dusting, hoovering, tidying, you know? Anyway, I was in the kids bedroom hoovering when I noticed Kylie’s cage door was open on the floor. The kids had been cleaning her cage out earlier and couldn't have closed the door latch properly.
The babies were still in the cage and so was Kylie. But I looked again when I was picking the cage up to put it on the dresser. One was missing. I couldn’t find it anywhere. I hunted all over, picking up everything on the floor and looking underneath.
I couldn’t find it. When the kids came home we had to explain that one of the babies was missing. They were convinced it was “Jason” but who could tell – they all looked the same. It made it more personal though! It was quite sad and a bit of a mystery.
The kids were a lot more careful after that with the cage door. We still have Frank, Alice, Homer, Marge and “Mum” Kylie.
I should say that we did find Jason. Well my husband Paul did actually. Its not a nice thought and definitely not a nice way to die. He’d gone up the hoover! He was too small to even clog up the hose! We found out when we emptied the hoover bag. Paul had hoovered up a necklace one of the kids had left on the floor after playing dressing up and was fishing in the bag to get it. That’s when he saw him. It must only have been two days later. I really hope he didn’t suffer – if the shock didn’t kill him he would have lost it in amongst all the dust in the bag.
I never did tell the kids. For a while they believed he’d run away into the skirting boards and was living in the walls. The youngest got a bit scared of that though and would have dreams that he’d grow big and fat, with huge teeth that would bite her in her sleep. We had to tell her a white lie after that to stop the dreams – Jason had gone to heaven and the reason we knew that was there was a new star in the sky over our house!
Another hamster related memory for you. It seems that these were popular wee pets for kids, and still are, as this memory comes from a mother and the story of her kids first hamster. Again, another memory which lit up the face of the person telling me it. A combination of remembering the event, the horror and the lesson learned. There was a little laughter too...but only a little!
Kylie
“It only happened a couple of years ago actually. I’d never had pets as a kid and it was only when I had kids of my own that I had a pet to look after.
We got the kids a hamster. Nice furry thing called Kylie. Kylie the hamster!
Kylie turned out to be pregnant. Not something we'd planned for of course. She had five babies in all. Of course the kids wanted to keep them and we felt we couldn’t really say no.
They were tiny things – all "skin" and pink. Kylie looked after them well really, making sure they were warm in their bed and giving them milk. The kids were looking after them too – making sure the bedding was clean and playing with “Mummy”.
I was doing the usual bits of housework, dusting, hoovering, tidying, you know? Anyway, I was in the kids bedroom hoovering when I noticed Kylie’s cage door was open on the floor. The kids had been cleaning her cage out earlier and couldn't have closed the door latch properly.
The babies were still in the cage and so was Kylie. But I looked again when I was picking the cage up to put it on the dresser. One was missing. I couldn’t find it anywhere. I hunted all over, picking up everything on the floor and looking underneath.
I couldn’t find it. When the kids came home we had to explain that one of the babies was missing. They were convinced it was “Jason” but who could tell – they all looked the same. It made it more personal though! It was quite sad and a bit of a mystery.
The kids were a lot more careful after that with the cage door. We still have Frank, Alice, Homer, Marge and “Mum” Kylie.
I should say that we did find Jason. Well my husband Paul did actually. Its not a nice thought and definitely not a nice way to die. He’d gone up the hoover! He was too small to even clog up the hose! We found out when we emptied the hoover bag. Paul had hoovered up a necklace one of the kids had left on the floor after playing dressing up and was fishing in the bag to get it. That’s when he saw him. It must only have been two days later. I really hope he didn’t suffer – if the shock didn’t kill him he would have lost it in amongst all the dust in the bag.
I never did tell the kids. For a while they believed he’d run away into the skirting boards and was living in the walls. The youngest got a bit scared of that though and would have dreams that he’d grow big and fat, with huge teeth that would bite her in her sleep. We had to tell her a white lie after that to stop the dreams – Jason had gone to heaven and the reason we knew that was there was a new star in the sky over our house!
Monday, September 18, 2006
Another "first" pet and its sad demise
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
For more "first pets" memories click here and here.
Well what a strange start to the week I've had. Oh, did you have a good weekend by the way. I did, chilling out with some friends over a few glasses of wine does wonders.
Well, its Monday again already and when I got into the office, after most of last week being away on a course, to find that tomorrow is "bring your dog to work day". Yes, you read me correctly, bring your dog to work. It's a "national" day apparently and we've got 11 dogs coming in, with their owners, and a host of related events going on through the day to raise money for charity. Imagine, dog walking for £3 - its supposed to be a calming influence apparently, but I can't help imaging the poor sod who gets the dog that needs a number two. Its dog walking with good old shopping bags at the rady for the dog poo disposal!
Sheer madness!
Anyway, it reminded me that I promised some more stories from the "macho men" and their first pet - the doggy stories. So here's a sad tale from a good friend of ours.....
Ricky
Ricky was our dog. He was an Alsatian and I loved taking him on walks near the beach. He was one of those dogs that loved fetching sticks and we used to wind him up by pretending we’d thrown a stick. Of course the dog would go bounding off after nothing, turn around and go daft with barking. Great way to make a dog dizzy isn’t it!
One afternoon I was walking down by the beach road – it had a high wall on the edge of the pavement, leading down to a steep embankment to the beach itself. It was quite a high wall. Ricky was in the mood for some play and I was chucking a stick for him to fetch. Then I teased him by throwing the imaginary stick. I didn’t think. I just threw my arm out and Ricky leapt up for the “stick”. He jumped straight over the wall and disappeared.
I can still see it, almost as if it’s in slow motion. Dumb dog.
I looked over the wall and he was lying at the bottom of this huge drop. I ran round the path and down onto the beach, crying. Ricky, how could I have done this to Ricky! I was only about twelve and I picked that dumb dog up in my hands and carried him back up to the road, my arms aching with the weight. He was still breathing, but didn’t look too great. I half stumbled, running to the vet’s which luckily wasn’t that far away. But he never made it. I was devastated. I had killed Ricky, our dog, since, since well forever.
For more "first pets" memories click here and here.
Well what a strange start to the week I've had. Oh, did you have a good weekend by the way. I did, chilling out with some friends over a few glasses of wine does wonders.
Well, its Monday again already and when I got into the office, after most of last week being away on a course, to find that tomorrow is "bring your dog to work day". Yes, you read me correctly, bring your dog to work. It's a "national" day apparently and we've got 11 dogs coming in, with their owners, and a host of related events going on through the day to raise money for charity. Imagine, dog walking for £3 - its supposed to be a calming influence apparently, but I can't help imaging the poor sod who gets the dog that needs a number two. Its dog walking with good old shopping bags at the rady for the dog poo disposal!
Sheer madness!
Anyway, it reminded me that I promised some more stories from the "macho men" and their first pet - the doggy stories. So here's a sad tale from a good friend of ours.....
Ricky
Ricky was our dog. He was an Alsatian and I loved taking him on walks near the beach. He was one of those dogs that loved fetching sticks and we used to wind him up by pretending we’d thrown a stick. Of course the dog would go bounding off after nothing, turn around and go daft with barking. Great way to make a dog dizzy isn’t it!
One afternoon I was walking down by the beach road – it had a high wall on the edge of the pavement, leading down to a steep embankment to the beach itself. It was quite a high wall. Ricky was in the mood for some play and I was chucking a stick for him to fetch. Then I teased him by throwing the imaginary stick. I didn’t think. I just threw my arm out and Ricky leapt up for the “stick”. He jumped straight over the wall and disappeared.
I can still see it, almost as if it’s in slow motion. Dumb dog.
I looked over the wall and he was lying at the bottom of this huge drop. I ran round the path and down onto the beach, crying. Ricky, how could I have done this to Ricky! I was only about twelve and I picked that dumb dog up in my hands and carried him back up to the road, my arms aching with the weight. He was still breathing, but didn’t look too great. I half stumbled, running to the vet’s which luckily wasn’t that far away. But he never made it. I was devastated. I had killed Ricky, our dog, since, since well forever.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Holly the Hamster - RIP
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
Hamster's are funny wee furry things aren't they? I didn't have a hamster when I was a child but it seems lots of my friends did. Not sure what I was missing out on really (not much you might say!).
In the last story about Mixtures, we didn't get to hear how she met her death, but there was little time for contemplation as the tale was swiftly followed by the memory of another friend who cried out that she'd murdered her first hamster.... I wonder if anyone else has a similar tale to that of Holly.....
Holly
“Holly was the name of my hamster – she was named after Christmas because that’s when I got her – and she loved playing outside her cage.
"I had gotten her lot of toys as you’d expect, but one in particular was one of those big plastic balls that you put them into and they run about. You know the ones, like caged balls rolling madly about the floor, propelled by a running hamster! I suppose whoever invented them had exercise in mind as well as fun. Well whatever, he probably made a fortune!.
"Well Holly loved that ball. It was almost like she’d run to it as soon as she was out of the cage, begging to be let in. I put her into her ball as usual one this one day and set her off on the bedroom floor.
"After a short while I realised the ball wasn’t moving at all and I went over to it and started it up again on a roll across the floor – I thought she was just tired. Still there was nothing in terms of a direction after the ball hit the door . I went over to it and picked it up. Oh, but you’ll never guess what I’d done (as she hides her face in horror). I’d killed Holly! Hard to believe isn’t it!?
"But it wasn’t through exhaustion as you might think – I suppose their heart capacity is quite small after all - no, it was worse than that. When I’d put her in the ball and closed the door, her leg must have got stuck. She was hanging by her wee leg, upside down, from the door of this plastic ball.
At this point we, the audience to this tale of woe, were all wide mouthed and eyed with a sympathetic “ohhhhhh” sound radiating from us at different pitches.
"Well, I snapped it open, but it was no good. I think the motion of the ball and her hanging the way she was, all the blood must have gone to her head.
"I buried Holly under the hedge in the front garden and my Mum planted some flowers over the spot the next month. Do you know what else, I buried her with the ball. No, not in it, but just by her side. I couldn’t bear any other hamster using it, it wouldn’t be right. She’d have probably haunted it!."
Hamster's are funny wee furry things aren't they? I didn't have a hamster when I was a child but it seems lots of my friends did. Not sure what I was missing out on really (not much you might say!).
In the last story about Mixtures, we didn't get to hear how she met her death, but there was little time for contemplation as the tale was swiftly followed by the memory of another friend who cried out that she'd murdered her first hamster.... I wonder if anyone else has a similar tale to that of Holly.....
Holly
“Holly was the name of my hamster – she was named after Christmas because that’s when I got her – and she loved playing outside her cage.
"I had gotten her lot of toys as you’d expect, but one in particular was one of those big plastic balls that you put them into and they run about. You know the ones, like caged balls rolling madly about the floor, propelled by a running hamster! I suppose whoever invented them had exercise in mind as well as fun. Well whatever, he probably made a fortune!.
"Well Holly loved that ball. It was almost like she’d run to it as soon as she was out of the cage, begging to be let in. I put her into her ball as usual one this one day and set her off on the bedroom floor.
"After a short while I realised the ball wasn’t moving at all and I went over to it and started it up again on a roll across the floor – I thought she was just tired. Still there was nothing in terms of a direction after the ball hit the door . I went over to it and picked it up. Oh, but you’ll never guess what I’d done (as she hides her face in horror). I’d killed Holly! Hard to believe isn’t it!?
"But it wasn’t through exhaustion as you might think – I suppose their heart capacity is quite small after all - no, it was worse than that. When I’d put her in the ball and closed the door, her leg must have got stuck. She was hanging by her wee leg, upside down, from the door of this plastic ball.
At this point we, the audience to this tale of woe, were all wide mouthed and eyed with a sympathetic “ohhhhhh” sound radiating from us at different pitches.
"Well, I snapped it open, but it was no good. I think the motion of the ball and her hanging the way she was, all the blood must have gone to her head.
"I buried Holly under the hedge in the front garden and my Mum planted some flowers over the spot the next month. Do you know what else, I buried her with the ball. No, not in it, but just by her side. I couldn’t bear any other hamster using it, it wouldn’t be right. She’d have probably haunted it!."
A friend's first hamster - the sad story of its death
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
Well, it seems I've opened up some old wounds with some friends. They thought my idea about the whole "first" thing was a great one but sadly, after a few gins I opened it up with "first pet" and how it died. Oh, the tears that followed, the pained voices and the sympathy around the table - obviously a girls night out I hear you cry - yes you're right! Then came the bravado from the men at the next table - well two blokes actually asked us what the fuss was all about so I delved on in and asked them about their first pet. Of course their stories were more macho (and mostly about dogs!). So, there's lots to get through and lots to keep you hooked and smiling so I'll post them as fast as I can before moving on to the next subject..........
Mixtures the Hamster
“He was called Mixtures…he was black, brown and white you see….get it?! Mixtures was really cool and was my friend when I was young. He would chirp away in his cage, running on his wheel, making all sorts of hamster noises – he was just great!
"I remember coming back from school one day and my Mum sitting me down in the kitchen literally as soon as I walked in the door.
“There’s something I have to tell you” she said in this somber tone. “The thing is, Mixtures died today. He’s gone to pet heaven”.
"Well I knew that that was rubbish…the pet heaven side of it…but geez I was so upset about the fact Mixtures was dead…so I guess at the time, it kept me going. Sounds a bit stupid now I know. But, hey, I was young!.
"I was like: “How did he die Mum, he was fine this morning?”.
“Well, when I went up to your room, he was all curled up in a ball and not moving.” She said.
“Where is he now ?”
“I put him in the bin”.
(We all errupted in a fit of the giggles at this point in the story. Honestly, the empathy part came later I promise).
"In the bin! In the bin! You might laugh but the fact was it was the kitchen bin she was talking about! Hardly hygienic! Buried amongst the carrot peel and goodness knows what else!.
"Anyway, after some tears and huffing about I got over it remarkably quickly actually.
"But I remember a few weeks later I was watching Blue Peter on TV and you know how they were big on the whole pet thing..especially dogs and tortoises? Not sure if they do all that now…but anyway, they were talking about hamsters. And, you know what? According to them hamsters hibernate. I’m not sure, now that I’m older, if that’s entirely true, but its what I remember seeing on the TV.
"Well…they said that to hibernate the hamster would curl up into a ball and not move much. The way to test it was to put him under a low heat grill and the heat would make him uncurl! I dread to think really about how many people may have tested this theory and burnt their hamster. I can smell the fur melting just thinking about it!
"So what the chance that Mixtures might have been alive then? Its an awful thought and it did bother me for a long, long time afterwards. I mean, Mixtures may have been put into the bin man’s lorry and then woken up, struggling for breath amongst all the rubbish. Nothing I could do!”
Funny that whole theory on hamster’s hibernating. I think the jury is out and I have consulted a few sources on this one…including a veterinary surgeon…they don’t hibernate. However, someone else recalls, completely independently of the previous story, about the same episode of Blue Peter….
Well, it seems I've opened up some old wounds with some friends. They thought my idea about the whole "first" thing was a great one but sadly, after a few gins I opened it up with "first pet" and how it died. Oh, the tears that followed, the pained voices and the sympathy around the table - obviously a girls night out I hear you cry - yes you're right! Then came the bravado from the men at the next table - well two blokes actually asked us what the fuss was all about so I delved on in and asked them about their first pet. Of course their stories were more macho (and mostly about dogs!). So, there's lots to get through and lots to keep you hooked and smiling so I'll post them as fast as I can before moving on to the next subject..........
Mixtures the Hamster
“He was called Mixtures…he was black, brown and white you see….get it?! Mixtures was really cool and was my friend when I was young. He would chirp away in his cage, running on his wheel, making all sorts of hamster noises – he was just great!
"I remember coming back from school one day and my Mum sitting me down in the kitchen literally as soon as I walked in the door.
“There’s something I have to tell you” she said in this somber tone. “The thing is, Mixtures died today. He’s gone to pet heaven”.
"Well I knew that that was rubbish…the pet heaven side of it…but geez I was so upset about the fact Mixtures was dead…so I guess at the time, it kept me going. Sounds a bit stupid now I know. But, hey, I was young!.
"I was like: “How did he die Mum, he was fine this morning?”.
“Well, when I went up to your room, he was all curled up in a ball and not moving.” She said.
“Where is he now ?”
“I put him in the bin”.
(We all errupted in a fit of the giggles at this point in the story. Honestly, the empathy part came later I promise).
"In the bin! In the bin! You might laugh but the fact was it was the kitchen bin she was talking about! Hardly hygienic! Buried amongst the carrot peel and goodness knows what else!.
"Anyway, after some tears and huffing about I got over it remarkably quickly actually.
"But I remember a few weeks later I was watching Blue Peter on TV and you know how they were big on the whole pet thing..especially dogs and tortoises? Not sure if they do all that now…but anyway, they were talking about hamsters. And, you know what? According to them hamsters hibernate. I’m not sure, now that I’m older, if that’s entirely true, but its what I remember seeing on the TV.
"Well…they said that to hibernate the hamster would curl up into a ball and not move much. The way to test it was to put him under a low heat grill and the heat would make him uncurl! I dread to think really about how many people may have tested this theory and burnt their hamster. I can smell the fur melting just thinking about it!
"So what the chance that Mixtures might have been alive then? Its an awful thought and it did bother me for a long, long time afterwards. I mean, Mixtures may have been put into the bin man’s lorry and then woken up, struggling for breath amongst all the rubbish. Nothing I could do!”
Funny that whole theory on hamster’s hibernating. I think the jury is out and I have consulted a few sources on this one…including a veterinary surgeon…they don’t hibernate. However, someone else recalls, completely independently of the previous story, about the same episode of Blue Peter….
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Your first pet and how it died....
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
Most people recall their first family pet – something they either loved or hated, was a chore or a pleasure. Perhaps as time went on and you grew older your feelings towards them changed? Did cleaning out the fish bowl happen less frequently, or walking the dog too much of a bother? Oh how we kids could tire of some things over time - what used to be fun, like teasing the hamster, became a chore as the cage had to be regularly cleaned.
An what about those pet names? From fish to dogs, the naming of pets can give away how old you are. Why the need to call your pet after a TV detective or superhero? Starsky and Hutch or Bo and Luke? Funny how we see the similar trends in naming children after pop stars!
Do you remember how your beloved pet died? Happens to them all of course, but the passing itself can be very memorable for some………..............................................................
I had a number of pets as a child, one of the benefits of living in the countryside and being the daughter of a vet. Here's my memory of how my goldfish died. I think I was around ten years old at the time (but don't quote me on that):
Starsky and Hutch were great goldfish, just swimming around their bowl time and time again. Over the couple or so years I had them I must have put lots of those green plastic plants into the bowl because I remember this one day I was cleaning the plants as well as the bowl. The fish were in a bucket of water on the kitchen floor and I can still invoke the smell on my hands of the slime from the plants and from scrubbing the glass.
What I didn’t realise was that the bucket had been used for bleaching the floor in the porch. The fish had been in there for around an hour I guess. They didn’t look so good when I put them back in their bowl and called my Mum through to have a look. They seemed a bit listless – if you can get a listless fish. (?) All motionless and big eyed! There was little we could do. Mum scooped them out and rinsed the bowl. She even rinsed the fish out under the kitchen tap! Just picked them up and cupped them in her hands with the tap on.
It did perk them up, but only for a day or two. I found both of them floating on the top of their bowl when I got home from school. I did “bury” them so to speak – they were flushed down the toilet the same day!
For a few months after that I would imagine them swimming around in the toilet bowl and I was scared they’d jump up and bite me when I went to the toilet - a sick fish revenge for flushing them away with beached scales.
Most people recall their first family pet – something they either loved or hated, was a chore or a pleasure. Perhaps as time went on and you grew older your feelings towards them changed? Did cleaning out the fish bowl happen less frequently, or walking the dog too much of a bother? Oh how we kids could tire of some things over time - what used to be fun, like teasing the hamster, became a chore as the cage had to be regularly cleaned.
An what about those pet names? From fish to dogs, the naming of pets can give away how old you are. Why the need to call your pet after a TV detective or superhero? Starsky and Hutch or Bo and Luke? Funny how we see the similar trends in naming children after pop stars!
Do you remember how your beloved pet died? Happens to them all of course, but the passing itself can be very memorable for some………..............................................................
I had a number of pets as a child, one of the benefits of living in the countryside and being the daughter of a vet. Here's my memory of how my goldfish died. I think I was around ten years old at the time (but don't quote me on that):
Starsky and Hutch were great goldfish, just swimming around their bowl time and time again. Over the couple or so years I had them I must have put lots of those green plastic plants into the bowl because I remember this one day I was cleaning the plants as well as the bowl. The fish were in a bucket of water on the kitchen floor and I can still invoke the smell on my hands of the slime from the plants and from scrubbing the glass.
What I didn’t realise was that the bucket had been used for bleaching the floor in the porch. The fish had been in there for around an hour I guess. They didn’t look so good when I put them back in their bowl and called my Mum through to have a look. They seemed a bit listless – if you can get a listless fish. (?) All motionless and big eyed! There was little we could do. Mum scooped them out and rinsed the bowl. She even rinsed the fish out under the kitchen tap! Just picked them up and cupped them in her hands with the tap on.
It did perk them up, but only for a day or two. I found both of them floating on the top of their bowl when I got home from school. I did “bury” them so to speak – they were flushed down the toilet the same day!
For a few months after that I would imagine them swimming around in the toilet bowl and I was scared they’d jump up and bite me when I went to the toilet - a sick fish revenge for flushing them away with beached scales.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
