Pet Cemeteries

There's a small pet cemetery near where I live, too, Anne, and I discovered when I had my cat put down this past spring that there's a funeral home that will let you conduct a private ceremony in their crematorium. (At least that's how I understood it.)

Very interesting! Coincidentally I was just struggling with the ending of the final chapter of my next horse book. I was going into the emotional aspects of euthanasia. We have a huge pet cemetery nearby--one of the few in the area that actually buries horses--and it never occurred to me to include an interview with the owners. Thanks for the great idea!

For a non-horse-type person, you're okay, Anne.

Well, I should have known. I have to look at the screen really hard to see it, but I believe there's "Caution: Horses Aboard" stamped on your forehead.

I, in turn (and despite the thick coating of horse hair and manure), am more of a bird person than most people would guess. I've owned Amazons and a cockatoo, love birds, parakeets and button quail, and my daughter had a flight cage full of assorted exotic breeding finches in my living room for years. Now I'm down to one button quail, one Goffin's and ten assorted chickens. Once you've crossed the line, any animal will do just fine and the more the better.

Great story about your first horse! You're a lucky woman to have had a relationship like that. I can relate by proxy. I came into it later, but my daughter has had a horse of her own (sometimes several) since she was seven. She launched many a grey hair in her day. Her favorite trick was riding her scary-as-hell gelding not just bareback, not just bridle-less, but standing on his back in her ballet slippers with a rope around his neck for steering, shouting commands in her little pipsqueak voice. Of course I made her wear a helmet, but she refused to put on the body armor. Kids!

Wow! Now THAT'S what I call surfing!

Vaulting has always fascinated me. Good for your daughter!

I don't think my Appy gelding would put up with such doings unless there was a sharp increase in alfalfa rations!

awatkins said:

Wow, Joanne! Your daughter sounds like she was born to ride! lol. I can only imagine how much gray hair you ended up with.

I'd love to hear all about your birds sometime if you'd care to post anything.

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I have a dear, dear friend . . . Lady Clairol is her name. Heard of her?

Birds! Ah, let's see. . .

There was a blue-fronted Amazon I bought on sale at WT Grant's (remember the old five-and-dime?) in 1971. We named him "Moron". "Moron Woodstock Friedman". He was a damaged pet--I paid $49.00, cage and all. His tail feathers were gone, there was scar tissue on one eye, and he was missing a toe. He hated me with a passion for a very long time. He'd hang out on top of a mobile in the apartment hallway and strafe me as I went by, swooping in from behind and dragging his claws over my scalp . . . until I got smart and started carrying a pillow. I only had to use it once. We were okay after that, but it took a few days for him to stop shaking his head after his full-speed encounter with the fuzzy crewel-work.

He was an outstanding talker who once made a tennis date with our upstairs neighbor. I got this story from the neighbor himself as we were at work at the time. Tom came to the door and knocked, and Moe (short for Moron, remember), said, "What?" in my husband's voice. Tom asked if he wanted to play tennis. The bird said, "What?" a little louder, so Tom repeated his question. The bird said, "Okay!"

Several hours later, as hubby and I sat watching TV, Tom came to the door in his tennis whites and seemed surprised that Bruce wasn't ready to go. We suggested he take the bird, but he demurred. Moe wasn't real good at tennis, so I couldn't blame him. We did discuss briefly which of them deserved the "Moron" monniker.

Right now we've only got the Goffin's cockatoo, 9 chickens and the button quail. When I have more time, I'll tell you about my daughter and her button quail-breeding business. It was a hoot and a half!