We Got A KITTEN!

Just in case you had missed the big news in our house - we got a kitten! 

We've lived in our house for over three years, and we'd previously asked our real estate agent if we could get a pet - to receive 'no' as the answer. We were pretty sad, but what can you do except keep a few pet ants? Oh wait. No they just help themselves to our pantry. I evict them regularly.

We saw our landlord recently and I asked Matt if he could ask him. I didn't think much of it - then Matt came back to me about 1/2 hour later and told me - we could get a cat! 

Hoorah!

We don't mess around, so two days later we went to the Cat Protection Society to meet the kittens. Met our little guy, fell in love - et voila. 

It's almost a week and we are totally smitten with our kitten. 

A Cat Lady

After re-locating our rabbit back to its breeder, and ever since our goldfish turned black and learnt how to float, we've been pet-less.

I enjoyed not having to look after another being. Life was simpler. I didn't have a rabbit eating my brand new jeans. Or a goldfish needing its tank to be cleaned.

And then it got a bit sad, and I had a word in Matt's ear about the smalls needing a pet and the fact that by our smalls ages, I had about fifty bazillion pets, inadvertently killed a duck, dug up worms for my mum for Mother's Day, and so much more.

So I emailed to ask if our landlord would let us get a cat.

Let me be upfront.

We're cat people. We like dogs. We love cats. Well I do, anyway.

I waited over a month - no response. Playing hard to get.

So I emailed again. Finally a response. Negative. Apparently our landlord had a bad experience with a previous tenant in another abode. They had cats. In a carpeted apartment that came fully furnished. And it was trashed by a cat lady.

So no. No we could not have a cat. Not now, not never. Not even in ten minutes.

Problem is, our house is our own furniture and we have floorboards.

Real estate agents. You can switch on your brains now.

So for now, we have to make do with going out at night and catching the snails for the smalls. Yep, that is what's in that little plastic container that Tiny holds so excitedly.

We have pet snails.

The Silverfish That Just Won't Die

We have two goldfish. But they're not gold. One is silver. The other is black. With googly eyes.

They were probably the last things we moved over from our old house. Mainly because we have no emotional attachment to them. They just swim around and around and I can't pat them and they're a bit boring really.

Nevertheless, I look after them, change their water, feed them, throw a stick for them, take them for walks on balmy evenings. You name it, I do it. It's called 'fish guilt'.

And now to add another dimension to my 'fish guilt' the silverfish has developed a really wonky tail and sits at the bottom of the tank. He's not dead. He'd probably just like to be.

I've asked Matt to euthanise him, but he won't. And every time I see this fish he makes me feel nauseous. I've googled to the nth degree, some say calcium deficiency (but the other fish is fine so it doesn't make sense), and some say electrical currents due to the filter (ditto the aforementioned) and others say it's genetic. It's horrific, that's what it is fo' shiz.

The black fish, aptly named 'Night Fury' occasionally gives the silver (nameless) fish a bit of razz and races him around the tank until the silverfish settles back at the bottom of the tank.

To make matters worse, the Doctor has heard me talking about flushing the fish down the toilet (which I, by the way, don't think is a very eco-solution, let alone RSPCA friendly), to which Tiny responded: "Uh! Don't flush the fish down the toilet. The fish will be sad!" To which the Doctor replied that it was a very special place for half-dead fish to go.

Anyone want our fish?

image is of some very ugly fish I once spotted in the Borrough Markets. Hideous looking things.

The Perfect Pet?

We don't have the most impeccable record when it comes to pets. Another one of our goldfish died last week. Now we have one lonely goldfish cruising the tank. He's got plenty of room to spread his fins. But it's kind of sad being in the only fish in the tank.

I found this cardboard bunny. Now this is the pet for us. No need to feed.

Whoever the buyer is at Third Drawer Down is one clever bunny. So much good stuff.

Pets Are...

I was always brought up that pets are for life.

I had a cat who I adored. Adored. He was the best cat that ever lived. I still get a bit teary when I think of him. He was an awesome cat. He was more person than cat. I love cats.

I also had a rabbit Flossy. She had babies. Oh how I adored them. When they died I was sad too. I had chickens too. And they went missing. I was sad then too.

So when we bought Nibbles de Boing Boing we thought that he was going to be with us for a long time.

Handbag and high heel eating aside, Nibbles de Boing Boing has been a very, very bad boy.

Despite having him desexed as an attempt to neutralise his menacing behaviour, he's still psycho bunbun.

He growls.

He bites. And draws blood.

He scratches at you if you go near him.

If I only had two words to describe him I'd call him: plum loco.

After much discussion, to-ing and fro-ing, we decided that regardless of the vets advice we could give him monthly shots of progesteron (the pregnancy hormone) that we would take him back to the breeder. We were feeling no love for him after he attacked us countless times.

You might be thinking - but he's a bunny, surely he's harmless, well try telling that to my handbag. Oh I mean headphones. Oh woops, slipped again, the smalls have been bitten and attacked by him so many times that he's almost due for a muzzle. He's mental.

This weekend we're returning him to the country. And that's no code word for the green needle. He really is going back to the breeder who has agreed he sounds a wee bit psycho and that sometimes bunnies can be a little loopy.

I still feel sad. He's a beautiful boy. Superficially. Just personality wise he's lacking. And keeps on attacking.

Have you ever had to return a pet to sender?

Happy Birthday Dad!

Blogtoberfest Day 10: Welcome Le BunBun

Excuse the poor photo, it's all I could muster. But we're totally smitten with our newest family member. Here at Chez PMM we're thrilled to welcome our new baby bunbun. Just six weeks old and totally adorable. Some predicted it way back when, and, well, we have a pet other than a goldfish. Hear the excitement. Feel the excitement. We are with bunbun!

A Boy And (Not) His Bunny

We're chuffed to let you know that we're bunny-sitting for my nephew. The most chuffed of all, of course, are the Doctor and Tiny.

Tiny circles the cage at night like a crazed bunny chaser. She cries when she has to go to bed saying 'Bun, bun.' We appease her with news that 'bun bun' will still be here in the morning. She loves sitting next to him. Delights in him. Almost squashes the life out of him. This is bunny love.

The Doctor had a whole countdown going on to when we were bunny-sitting. Now he's on top of the world and poor 'bun bun' doesn't get a break. Unless of course Mama intervenes, which she has been quite regularly, to give buns a chance. Bunny has been fed only the sweetest of grass, patted non-stop, the Doctor could soon be the Vet?

And there was I last night watching a DVD (more on that later) thinking after a long pet hiatus how nice it was, curled up on the couch, patting the softest fur of 'bun bun' when I felt an even warmer feeling. On my stomach. Mmm. Warm. Straight through the blanket, my hoodie, and my t-shirt. Bun Bun clearly felt warmed too.

So Tired Sunday: Then There Was One

damien hirst's shark - a little different to our fish breeding program

We had a busy Sunday which was a happy, happy thing because I got to see my nephews and brother-in-law who I haven't seen in over a year. Particularly great because they got to meet their newest cousin, and we all got to kick back with a delicious lunch by my sister and other bro-in-law. Good times.

Previously on pottymouthmama I had mentioned our silverfish dying. Well would you believe we saw another two fatalities over the weekend and now there's just one lonely little fish left? It may have had something to do with the fact that Matt walked in when our son was tipping the fish from one bowl to another, rather excitedly. I don't think goldfish do that particularly often in the wild, hence their rapid demise. And today I see one of our snails is floating on the surface of the water. This pet-owning thing is not going well for us.

As a conclusion to the original silver fish that has left us to go swimming in greater waters - I must concur with a number of commenters. I think the other fish must have eaten him. You've no idea how much that disgusts me. It's almost as bad as the mice we had to breed in Year 7, our mummy mouse birthed a whopping 13 babies and ate seven of them. I can't ever imagine eating my own children, but hey - different strokes for different folks.

In other news, Emily from the delightfully effervescent and beautifully-hued sugar & meringue tagged me. Here's the lowdown on how to play:

1) Link to the person who tagged you

2) Mention the rules

3) Tell six quirky yet boring, unspectacular details about yourself

4) Tag six other bloggers by linking to them

5) Go to each person’s blog and leave a comment that lets them know they’ve been tagged

Here are my six reasonably quirky and yet boring (quirky and boring - wowsers, I thought these things were mutually exclusive) things about moi:

* During Year 12 I got my Dad to tape each of the episodes of Australia's Most Wanted so I wouldn't miss it. I loved that show. I have some freaky fascination with crime shows. CSI - the original is my favourite. I even have a special CSI dance I do while the show theme music is running, much to the amusement of my husband.

* I am ridiculously terrified of spiders. I need to get over it, I know. But they seem to follow me. It all started when I was nine and had a life size poster of Elle MacPherson in my bedroom. I thought my sisters had played a prank on me and put a fake spider in my room. I went to pick it up and just as I went to grab it, the damn hairy thing moved. I didn't sleep in my bedroom for two nights after that. Following that they were in the car above my head. Then in some tracksuit pants my sister borrowed from me. I clearly remember lying on my bed when she came in to borrow them. She wondered what was in them, thought it was the drawstring and flicked out a ginormous huntsman. We squealed like piglets. Dad had to come and rescue us. See a pattern here? Spiders terrify me.

* During my pre-labour with my son I walked 2 kms to the supermarket. I was in denial and HAD to go to Coles to pick up my supplies to make labour aid (which subsequently exploded all over my foot in my sister's car on the way to the birth centre). I picked up Sex and the City DVDs on the way home while experiencing intermittent contractions and grimacing at the man serving me who said a little too cheerily "See you on Sunday" - all the while thinking, no, no you won't because you have no idea, but I AM HAVING A BABY RIGHT NOW! PS - I never even drank the damn labour aid.

* When I am nervous I get a rash all over my decolletage and it creeps up my face. Same happens when I drink vodka.

* I hate shoe shopping. I am probably the only woman in the history of mankind to ever say that. I have size 11/12 feet. It doesn't help when I ask for my size shoe and the shop assistant comes back and says, "No I don't have that size, but I've got an 8 or a 9." Well that's really useful, I'll just go either a) dislocate my toes, or bind them and shove those suckers on my feet, or b) chop off my toes.

* I ran away from university when I was 19. I asked this guy who lived in the same building as me to drive me to the train station and to not tell anyone where I had gone. I have no idea for the need for such secrecy, but I went home to my parents and knew I'd never go back to that university. A few days later the RA of the university campus accommodation rang up and asked my parents if they knew where I had gone. Of course they knew, I was at home in my old bedroom. Some people told me I'd regret it. I didn't. I've never looked back.

And six bloggers that I think should step up to bat for the boring yet quirky tagging?

- Hugo & Elsa (Michelle is living my dream life in Tasmania)

- Che & Fidel

- Hoppo Bumpo

- Paper Dolls for Boys (Tracey - I know you have more of this)

- ChoccyBangles

- bugandpop

Play if you want to. Come on. You know you want to.

The Case of the Disappearing Silverfish

Prior to our departure for Tamworth I discovered that one of our goldfish was ailing. Lying sideways on top of the water. On first inspection I thought it was dead, but once I walked over to the tank it would wriggle and swim a little. Matt thought I was crying wolf - so many times I have told him that the snails are dead. The snails are dead! But just two minutes later they're seen cruising around the opposite side of the tank. He soon discovered that for once my prognosis was spot on.

It didn't take long for the fish to resume it's position on top of the water. Matt and I wondered what we should do. We didn't have the heart to exhume its still breathing body and boom-toss* it down the toilet or whatever you do with dead/half-dead goldfish.

My son was of course very interested. Being a three and an almost half year old apprentice doctor with a very unsterile toy doctor's kit, he was keen to get in on the action.

So we left it there. Our little dude told us that we should buy a doctor's kit for the other fish so they could look after the sick fish. Too cute.

While we were at home, we mentioned the sick fish to my Mum. Well to be accurate, I told her that the silver fish was looking a little worse for wear, and we thought it was dying. Mum was astounded. I couldn't figure out why. I told her we didn't know what to do with it, should we have removed it? We didn't know. We're no fish doctors. She was astounded that I had left a silverfish in the tank at all. Mum was confused with the fat critters that I am breeding in my linen cupboard - supersized silverfish - the insects, not the fish.

Anyway - I will get to the crux of the story.

We arrived home, and I was expecting to greet a very dead fish. I searched the tank. Nothing. Just three healthy, functioning swimming fish. No silver fish doing backstroke.

I asked my mother in law if she'd removed it, and she hadn't... No one else has been here in our absence.

So now it's a case of the missing silverfish. It's not in the tank. I've looked everywhere. Where can a half-dead silver fish go? Are goldfish cannibals?

And now my son keeps asking where the fish is (how do you explain death when there's no lifeless body to show??). He then told us that we should get another dying fish so that it can die too. And the poor little dude meant it too.

PS - Totally unrelated shot of the evening sky taken while we were away. I didn't really think you'd want a shot of our goldfish. Particularly not while the forensics are searching for the missing fish-member.

* Boom-toss - initially my son's word it means to throw something out, or jump on it - now firmly part of our family vernacular.

This Is...

My pet - I had a dwarf rabbit when I was a teenager - look at me all lanky and dorky, with my rabbit and her kittens. Alas, they all died of myxomatosis and I was heart broken.

In this picture I am holding my cat Yoko, He was the best cat. Fat, funny, very laid back, and strangely he had some very human characteristics. Even though he died seven years ago, I still think of him, I've never met another cat like him... Look at him eyeing off those rabbits!

Though when I lived in a unit, back in my single days, a cat called Balou used to come and visit me. I loved that cat. He was a beautiful blue Burmese (I think) and made himself very comfortable at our place. He even got annoyed at me when I was on the phone and attacked the cord out of jealousy.

And now we have three goldfish. Noah's goldfish really. They don't sit on my lap and they don't purr.

Thanks to Kyla for this week's theme, and thanks to Three Buttons for the meme!