My Furry Friends

If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been slightly branching off of Canadian topics. I will always be Lily In Canada, but I feel like I’m struggling to think of Canadianisms to write about daily. If something particular to Canada begs to be written about, I’ll write about it. But for now, I’m going to focus on whatever I like.

Our apartment in Victoria doesn’t allow pets (or real christmas trees!). They basically don’t allow happiness. Although the woman who lives down the hall from us breaks this rule since she’s half-woman half-beast. I’m almost certain that she’s Sasquatch. I would love to have a companion, but I don’t want to be kicked out of our apartment and living on the street. I always hate when I see homeless people with animals. What makes them think, “Hey, I’m responsible, I should be a pet owner!” ?

I have been wanting a pet for a while now. Someone told me that I was “nesting”. Apparently, wanting to own an animal means that I want to have children. Let me just say, that when you get to the point in your life when people immediately guess that your sickness is pregnancy, it’s depressing. I am never speaking of nausea ever again.

My family’s cat, Cozy, is about 16 years old. She’s gettin’ up there! She used to be so spry and energetic. Now she’s just sleepy and, well, cozy. We got her and another cat, Bopo, on the same day. One for me, and one for my brother. And two for my mom to take care of! We rescued them from a trailer park. They were literally trailer trash. Cozy is going to give me glares for writing this about her. In her youth, she was one of the best hunters around. We had so many rodents as presents from her–birds, squirrels, FLYING squirrels, rabbits, chipmunks, mice–you name it, Cozy got it. Bopo, pronounced bop-o, was the sweetest animal to ever live. We reside on a busy road, and one day Bopo chased an animal into the road. He lived a short life, but a good one. Bopo will be forever missed.

I told Cozy to look cute. She went for the kill-me-now look.

We had another cat, Kendall, who was old and crabby all the time. We had him since I was 2. He died about 2 years ago. Whadda trooper.

The member of our family that has been the most missed is definitely our dog, Truman. He was one of the finest dogs around. I mean, he humped people a lot. He woke the neighbors up with his barking all the time. He ran away once or twice. He growled at me at night. But he was so smart. He knew so many words and all of our names. When we were gone, he would miss us. If I said, “Hey, where’s mom?” he would look for her. Even though he was a silly old dog, he was a great friend.

In his favorite spot.

He also liked to eat. A lot.

Slightly chunky.