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Childhood Pets & Other Animals

August 24, 2012 By Barbara 2 Comments

Huckleberry was my brother’s dog but I was allowed to pet him once in a while.

I’ve been reading a lot of interesting blogs lately. Many of them are nostalgic forays into childhood remembered with comical and touching moments that take me back to simpler times.

Most of my childhood memories revolve around a small fruit farm in Washington State where I did most of my important growing up years. We moved there when I was in the first grade and stayed until I turned eleven.

Pets weren’t really a priority back then. We had animals but they were either raised for food or pretty much survived on their own. Like the giant Tomcat we inherited when we moved to the farm. Huge, shaggy haired, six toes, and able to pluck live birds from the air with one swipe, this cat was Garfield on steroids. We didn’t really play with it. It came and went as it pleased.

We had a couple of cows out in the pasture and my dad put out a salt block for them. Being a salt lover myself, I didn’t mind sharing. I wasn’t stupid! Duh! Of course I turned the block over and knocked off a chunk from an unlicked corner. I didn’t want cow germs.

When I was seven I asked for a pet lamb. If Mary could have a little lamb follow her all over the place, why couldn’t I? My dad went to the sale barn and surprised me on my birthday with my very own. Problem was, I found out lambs were actually little sheep and sheep were dumb as posts. Not exactly capable of following simple commands like Heel! Come! Go get help!

So we got a dog. A real collie just like Lassie…except it was a mutt, only half collie and something else, but it was smart…except it liked to chase cars… the end.

Then I started collecting frogs in boxes, and stinkbugs and fireflies in jars. I also enjoyed catching butterflies, grasshoppers, and moths. This was before PETA and other organizations made my hobbies something dark and twisted. But hey! I never ate them! Although I suppose pulling wings off grasshoppers could have turned me into a psychopathic serial killer. I guess time will tell…

What I really wanted was a pet bear like Big Ben or a Dolphin like Flipper. But no amount of begging would get my dad to buy one of them for me at the sale barn.

I guess the closest thing I had to a real pet was the red-headed woodpecker that came early each morning to wake me up by tapping away at the roof above my head. Less intrusive than a wet dog nose pushing you awake and way better than a cat sitting on your face. I loved that woodpecker.

Do you have a special pet or animal story from your growing up years? Leave a comment and tell us about it.

 

Barbara

Barbara is the author of Entangled, Crushed, Split Sense, Running Home, and Alias Raven Black.

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Comments

  1. Deborah Harmon says

    August 24, 2012 at 11:45 am

    I loved that farm and always think of it when I pass that little town on the highway in the lower valley (just last weekend). What a nice way to spend your early years. Did not know about the woodpecker!

    Reply
    • Barbara says

      August 24, 2012 at 11:53 am

      Deb, I loved that farm too and sometimes wish we’d never had to move but so is life:) Great memories though.

      Reply

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