An Introduction to my Pets
Adopted from a hoarding situation in Santa Monica when she was a year old, Gertie is an eleven year old alien.
You cannot pick her up without your arm being disemboweled. Though, Gertie might perch on your leg and petting is a must.
Gertie is company favorite because she knows people will pet her. She purrs so loudly and has that Wilford Brimley face.
People who don’t have a lot of experience with cats love her because she is so approachable.
Archie is the equivalent of having a four year old child that never grows up. He’s just getting slower. I know this, because I’ve raised three children.
He’s the man and the Monsieur.
Weighing in at one hundred pounds, Archie likes to play tug of war, go to the dog park to retrieve balls and lay in the sun with his stuffed animals that he refuses to tear apart anymore.
He understands over one hundred words in English and three in French.
He is ten years old.
Babycat greets me every morning like this. He immediately wants to be cuddled and then more immediately wants to go outside to fight animals. He doesn’t know it’s fighting. He thinks it’s playing.
He’s friends with a possum.
He is a three year old Aries.
Off the streets of Van Nuys at 4 weeks old, this guy is my personal favorite because he talks to me all day long.
I have spent more time with these three than necessary. I feel as though I understand animals on a new level.
Will share more if they are of interest to you.
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“He immediately wants to be cuddled and then more immediately wants to go outside to fight animals.” This is one of my favorite PR posts.
Can't post photos but here are my three:
Oliver Twist AKA Ollie - Our black lab mix COVID baby, rescued from a house burned down by its abusive-husband owner, forced to live in a shelter while they tried to locate said owner and charge him for arson; was such a basket-case that he had to be carried into the house and despite now being the sweetest doofus and no happier than when he escapes from the yard and goes for a walkabout, he's still very skittish of men at first; also very much a creature of habit who loses his mind and talks back whenever it's time to eat or go for a walk and you're not moving as fast as he thinks you should; we thought he was nine months old when we got him but he was two years old and underweight, and his original name was Earl. About 5 years old.
Tug - Boston Terrier mix we inherited from my sister-in-law, who got him from a rescue because he has a curlicue tail and, despite his regal pointed ears, can't hear a thing—naturally, since he's deaf, he's also a very loud snorer; literally barks at the moon (and stars, and smoke) and walks while he poops; a hey-girl-hey snuggler who would nudge as closely as he could to my sister-in-law's heart to keep her comforted as she lay dying of breast cancer; would let me carry him like a baby all day long if I could. About 10 years old.
Louie - Also a Boston Terrier but from a breeder, so he cost us more to get and has easily been the most expensive to maintain, including a nose job so he can breath properly; he's allergic to everything so I make him food from scratch (Costco canned chicken with olive oil, brown rice, peas and vitamin powder) every other week. He's by far the smartest of the three and, among other things, will excuse himself from the bed if he has gas and knows it's gonna stink; he's still furious we added Ollie to the family and shows his anger and small-dog complex by power-humping Ollie's leg whenever he feels the big dog is getting too much of my attention; his look of bug-eyed disdain when we tell him to stop reminds me of a face Steve Buscemi might have made back in his '90s indie heyday; he loves nothing more than finding a sunny spot on a puffy sofa cushion and spreading out; he's the only dog who gets to sleep in the bed with us, and he burrows under the covers and curls up next to us like a pill bug without moving all night long, except when he stretches and his toothpick legs stab me in the back and wake me up. About 9 years old.