And in other news. . .
We had pets when I was growing up. A dog, a cat. One at a time, until they would get old and incontinent and then they would pass into 'big pet heaven'. My mother was always very matter of fact about this.
Well. As my siblings and I grew and left the homestead. . .*insert images of little house on the prairie here* my parents grew suddenly very attatched to whatever dog was left. To the point of weirdness.
My father speaks of the dog as if it were his best child. How smart he is. How well behaved he is.
My mother trains them to jump through little jumps and hoops that she builds. She feeds them vegetables and babies them like they are little infants.
Wow. Do I sound jealous? I'm not. I know I'm a person and these animals are just filling a void. But damn. It's weird to see two people that, before, seemed so very normal. And now. . .
The last dog to rule the household was a tiny Chihuaha/poodle mix. Tiny. Black. King of his domain.
Now it is a new black and white Rat Terrier puppy. Named Snoopy.
They just sent me pics of Snoopy in his car seat.
The dog has a car seat.
"He just jumps around and you can't take him anywhere without another person." <~says my mom.
"Isn't that what dog carriers are for?" <~says me.
"Yes. I know. He has two of those. One for the car. One for home." <~says the obviously lost-it mom.
Snoopy. Prince Snoopy as we lesser humans should call him.
In his car seat.
Sheesh. Parents. Gotta love 'em.
I just wonder if he's going to be mentioned in the will. . .