My head is swirling with ideas about different things to post, but because I'm so tired from helping move Phoebe and the other horses to a new barn, I can't even fathom the idea of writing anything cohesive about things even remotely difficult or philosophical.
So, instead enjoy this picture of my first "real" pet (other than my beloved Willy, the goldfish!), a guinea pig named Scooter.
He was kind of mean, to be honest with you; he frequently bit me hard enough that I'd bleed. We nearly got rid of him once for that. We brought him to a pet store over night and were really going to leave him there and let them sell him. My cousin offered to "replace" him with two baby guinea pigs that I could keep. But, the next day, I was so upset that I told my parents to go back and, thankfully, he was still there. (There I go again, being loyal to my animals, even at age 9!)
I don't remember much about him. I can recall clearly the time that he escaped from his harness in my backyard and almost ran away, and the squealing sounds he made when he knew you were going to give him vegetables.
He died in February of 1999, after several bouts with pneumonia. About two weeks later, we brought home Layla.
You can barely discern the fact that this is a picture of a guinea pig, but sadly, it's the only picture I could find. Fortunately, my picture-taking frequency has increased with later pets. I have well over two thousand pictures of Marge in the three and a half years I've had her. Yep, that's right!