Hi, it's me...the Angel of Death

I already know your feelings on the title. It was originally named, “why my pets hate me and die”, but that's not true; pets like me. I have been referred to as the cat whisperer on occasion, but they make me sneezy. So often I whisper, “go away cat”.  And now, I offer my official apology to PETA or any hate group, I am sorry. Moving on.

When it comes to animals, I tend to prefer the fluffy variety over slithery, reptilian, rodent variety. The other day a lady said to me, “ I have two dogs, so I know what it’s like to have kids”.  I tried hard to keep a straight face people!  Having a pet, is not the same as having a child, sorry to break it to you. Sure, they both keep you busy, yes they both require time and attention, "training", "grooming"- and they both beg for treats with equal enthusiasm. However, I won't be putting my child in a crate overnight, or leave them unattended for 10 hours while I'm at work with some gravel to pee in, a dish of water and a squeaky toy. I'm not molding Rover to be the next President, or teaching Senor Peebles, the cat, how to read, write and tie shoes; most pets don't wear shoes. {So the laundry aspect alone of child vs. animals crushes the "same" theory}.

If grocery stores were to introduce a NO KIDS ALLOWED policy, like the NO PETS policy, I have a feeling the grocery store would be like an adult McDonald's play land, and very pleasant. There would also be no need for that ridiculous tantrum inducing candy rack at the checkout. Whoever the marketing master mind Satan behind that is probably sitting poolside with Bill Gates. I wouldn't be surprised if they were in hiding, because frankly if I ever meet you, won't be good. I might have a wee bit of anger to unload where candy in the checkout is concerned. Back to play land, you would notice me outside of the store hands and face pressed to glass mouthing, "just a loaf of bread please", because my children are coming to the store regardless and that's a fact.

Pets are certainly a part of a family. They don't talk back, well maybe parrots, and no matter what you say to them or what you do; they always give you their unconditional love.

For now, I'm tapped out. Having to care for a pet on top of caring for the two crazy kids already, might push me to the edge. This distresses my kids who would willingly take any creature at this point and have lowered their standards from cat/dog, to any cricket, tree frog, lightening bug...or sea monkeys. We won't recover from another untimely death of a creature, like the Great Snail incident of 2010. I now have to free all the earthworms and slugs from my daughter’s home made "habitats" of dandelion piles and twig labyrinths, so she won't discover the dead carcass day next. We had a dog for 8 years, and three fish...Dory I, II & III. {I didn't kill my dog, just for the record, the fish...debatable}. I didn't indulge my Cosby Show nostalgia and have a fish funeral like Rudy did for Lamont; but I love that episode.

One day while in the toy aisle, what should the children spy? Sea Monkey kit. I caved, five bucks, but I know I'm going to forget to do something. The instructions are so simple, they don't even have words, just pictures. How hard can this be? I'll tell you, having to wait 2 days for this, 3 days for that, then feed on day 5. This is too mathematical for me, I don't know what day of the week it is half the time, you get where I'm going? Doesn't look good for the monkeys.

Image Credit

Our 200 dehydrated sea monkeys hatched into about 25; I presume that's normal, kids are fine with it, they are living, so bonus. Now my days get busier, um, er, ah, yes okay I think it's time to feed them. Well we have one left, the strong one of the tribe, as named by kidlets, "Ariel McQueen", noble name for a sea monkey. Kids are still thrilled. Ariel McQueen is very feisty and active.

Maybe I overfed her/it, maybe it was day 6, and I don't recall or know. But Ariel McQueen has passed on to the Sea Monkey afterlife {woods behind the deck}.

This news will not go over well. I foresee wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Stayed tuned for what creature of God I kill next week, or how I've inadvertently managed to screw up my kids even more because I can't get it together. Or maybe, just don't buy sea monkeys.

We miss you Mattie!