The Fur Posse

I'm all about fuzzy animals, etc. and that is apparently a gene within my X-chromosome that my daughter inherited. We only have one (ONE! Uno! really!) animal that is purchased and officially belongs to us: Runaround, the Kamikaze Hamster (yes, she's still with us, halleluiah. That is one resilient rodent). A recent photo:


And yet, like a beacon in the night, animals seek us out. (Fine by me, not so fine for allergic-husband, but we compromise and shoo all large hairy things out from under-/off the bed and away from the upstairs)

First to seek us out: Sweet Cat (a misnomer, she's only sweet about 25% of the time, and then she's Wacky Cat: loud meowing, hissing, running away, generalized madness). [Note for my hunny: this photo taken prior to previously-mentioned shoo agreement]


And then Black Cat found us (and our supply of Friskies). Misnomers abound: this is the cat who should be called Sweet Cat. Silky fur, quiet little meows, puts up with Mary-Chandler carrying her around like a rag doll, sits in laps and purrs for long periods. Perfect cat.

And last week, I found a Woolly Worm (tis the season here in the mountains) and we put him in our bug box. MC named him Silly (b/c he crawled all over her dress), he even came shopping with us at KMart.

I just re-read that last sentence and cannot help but think: Lo, how the mighty have fallen. I'm carrying a woolly worm into KMart for my daughter. While I'm there, let me purchase some makeup to cover my Red Neck, ya'll.

Anyway, after 2 days, I became concerned that Silly may not be eating the grass in the bottom of the cage and probably needed to return to more spacious surroundings than the small box that may be double his length at best. OMGosh, MC wept like a refugee for the better part of an hour when we put his box outside. She is such a softy about this stuff, but she gets it honestly.




And then there was the influx of emus:


No, just kidding.