Monday, July 6, 2009

Pinchy, R.I.P.

I ran this morning. Like journaling, it’s always been something I start doing then give up on after a few days, a week at best. The cool breeze blowing through my windows woke me up and I just needed to get out and breathe it in after those days of evil, oppressive heat. I left Michael Jr. in charge and headed out the back gate and down the path to Williams Blvd. But wait! The view of our front yard stopped me cold. Am I the only one with shedding sycamores? We’ve lived here for four years and I’ve never seen such carnage! I know these goofy trees drop leathery, practically non-biodegradable leaves, strange seed balls, and chunks of bark now and again but this was insane. The lawn was covered with pieces of bark, large and small. Ah well, another job for another day.

The breeze felt sweet as I ran toward the river but after a few minutes nothing else did. Legs on fire! Heart beating out of my chest! I kept going and once I reached the river path the wind was at my back. Unfortunately, with energy reserves depleted, the run back promised high winds in my face. And it delivered. I let myself walk up the hill past the cemetery to our house. I didn’t feel too badly about it. Now the trick will be to get up tomorrow and do it again. I’ve never understood how my mom could get up and run that 5 miles every morning; maybe one day I will. I’m not holding my breathe . . .

When I came in the house I walked past Pinchy’s tank to see if he was hungry. Not only was he not looking for food, he was dead. Bummer. Pinchy was our crawdad and we’ve had him for just shy of two years. That summer we were fishing at Moses Lake and the kids kept catching crawdads. They begged to take them home so we brought a bucket of water and five or six with us. We brought the old fish tank in from the garage, added some water and rocks from the river and let them loose. They quickly engaged in a death match until only Pinchy reigned triumphant. He alone ruled that tank where he commanded frozen squares of blood worms by standing on his tail, propped against the glass, pinchers snapping. He was awesome.

Our kids love all sorts of creatures. We’ve avoided the whole dog thing because I’m not ready for the responsibility (everyone knows it would be my problem) but we’ve got four cats we rescued, two huge hermit crabs in the boys’ room, a Russian Tortoise in the living room, and two black widows in spaghetti jars in the kitchen. Oh, and various fish in bowls. I’m not married to the idea of having all these little guys to take care of (except for the spiders), especially when it’s vacation time, but I suppose it’s good for the kids.

The cutest animals here are not our pets at all but a mother raccoon and her babies. They show up most evenings, making noise under the deck, searching for bits of cat food and hoping we’ve forgotten and left the bin outside. They are absolutely adorable and I have to remind myself over and over that they’re destructive and dangerous. Oh but look at those faces!
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  1. I still say they are chicken killers :)

  2. Yep, if you keep letting them have the cat food, maybe they won't eat your cats! :)


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