So far technomage's squirrel wins the thread. You normal pet people just aren't trying hard enough

Now where's my cat. I guess I gotta snap a couple pictures

Edit: and all you guys that let your cats sit on your gear are giving me secondhand anxiety. I just see everything getting clogged up with fur. I let my cat walk all over me, figuratively and literally. But I put my foot down at the table where all my most expensive stuff is.

 

I guess my pet choice won't surprise anyone. I wish, one day she doesn't escape from me and then I will let her walk around my keyboard.

While eating a worm..


getting bigger..


the same red water pan in the first pic..


and we have some colors. In front of a dead bug.

 

Here is "my" dear Albert (named after Dr. Hofmann :: ). I picked him up from a shelter 3,5 years ago, he's around 4 years old now. His twin brother had been picked up the day before, so he really put on the charm to get the f.. out of there i guess lol.


During the summer I don't see him much during the daytime, he's mostly sleeping cuz he's out hunting and God knows what all night. A damn paparazzi accidentally woke him up for this one though (oops) :

During fall and winter he often hangs out in the "studio" with me, I feel he doesn't care much for my music though :/. But sometimes when I make a weird noise on my didgeridoo it evokes at least some kind of emotional response in him. Most of the time he just enjoys laying on my synths or keyboard scouting out mouse pointer movements in my DAW, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Here's one from his freak show days :


Last year he had surgery. What started as a small scratch from a brawl with a neighboring cat, turned into a life/death situation as the wound got infected. He got a shot of antibiotics at the vet but they weren't strong enough, so the wound grew into a huge fucking boil. I called the vet who told me to just wait a bit longer to allow the antibiotics to do their job. Then during the night the day after Albert had clawed into the boil, and turned it into a huuge hole in his throat (7cm in diameter according to the vet), exposing his wind and food pipes :S Luckily I got him to the vet soon enough and they managed to save him although they said chances were very low. He healed up quick and is back roaming as if it never happened <3
He did hate the awful medieval contraption he's wearing on the pic though and was supposed to wear it for a full month so on day 2 I had my mom help me sew a less incapacitating one cut out from an old yoga mat. Worked like a charm, and the poor guy could again reach his food, walk up stairs, walk through a doorway without smacking into the doorframe etc.

 

Does she come put of her aquarium and walk on you? Would she bite?

...is your real name Peter Parker?

 

It's actually terrarium because of terrestrial instead of aqua. Nope, I can't let her go outside, because she's too fast. I've already lost my old tarantula even she was a slower kind. She escaped and I couldn't meet her again in the house. 2 years ago :} anyway, this one also escaped last year, but my nephew found and told me. Then I carried her into the terrarium. No more escape till now. Next year maybe she can walk around me, she's getting slower by years :} Yes she bites. She didn't hurt me yet although tried once. I felt her power, no joke. I'll let her to bite me when I can stock some uranium in the house, hehe.

 

This is Fonzie,he's 16 and a half,he can't walk very well,can't do stairs,but swims like a fish




This is my cat,Nizzle



This is my dog and cat out for a late night walk,the cat tags along most nights,thats normal yeah?

 

That's me on the right, the guy in the Stetson.

@Beth .. Like your pleasant story of destiny on your doorstep, Auggie Doggie and my story are quite similar. I was working with a few friends doing a flea market business in NYC in the 80's, and the house that we were working out of (I eventually moved in, taking over the lease with my long, long time housemate Liz) bordered the largest cemetery in the city as well as a beautiful wooded park. It was on the highest point in that area, and the views towards the direction far in the distance of the Atlantic Ocean and the sweep of land outwards towards the south shore of Long Island in the direction of JFK were worth a million bucks. One day a pack of 12 hungry dogs showed up out of nowhere so I put out buckets of water, went down to the local supermarket and bought a big bag of dry dog food. The all literally woofed it on down, the group hungry like a wolf. This went on for about six or seven days until probably on the seventh the only one to show was this terribly thin and awfully smelly mutt of a dog. She looked me straight in the eye, her stare never wavering with what I can only describe as a pleading to be brought in from the cold (though it was actually a warm summer day in August). That I did.

Liz and I and the cats, her boy Lucky and my pair JoJo and Jessica (of JoJo I have spoken about in a previous post, Jessica a refugee from Hoboken and another humorous story to be told, perhaps another time) shared the upper story of a super brownstone on the opposite side of the park in what in New York City speak is generally referred to as a railroad flat where all the rooms other than the kitchen and bathroom are in one long line with a door leading from one to the next, in this case each of us having a conected bedroom and a studio where we could do our prospective art, she as an animator and I as a painter and musician. Perfect!

Well, this day the cats were in for the shock of their lives. Every time that I would come in to the house from a long day of my out and about, the cats would greet me and we would have this love fest of kitty rubs, tail and neck skin pulls that would cumulate with their favorite kitty treats and good times had for one and all, what with their catnip toys or bunched up paper toss games with me as designated thrower and architect of novelty tosses and feline adventure themes. Today as I opend the door to the apartment I knew that nothing would be going well for my lovely charges, and that their lives would never quite be the same. I wasn't quite so worried about JoJo. He was one of those special beings that come along, angels draped in muscle and skin to help guide us on out way, role models of pure love and decency that we can only try to emulate but rarely do. When we lived at another house he would bring home stray and/or sick cats for me to take to the vet for healing or to find homes for. He really put me to work in those seven years theres at that house, having me find homes for over 70 strays and spending way more than my meager budget allowed at the animal doctor. On many occasions he had me follow him around the hood and pointed out cats that he wanted me to take home, usually kittens that were put out, but sometimes older injured ones. It got so that I knew to bring a towel with me on his rescue mission so that I could bundle up an old geezer on its last legs or a sick one that hadn't the energy. About ten needed to be put to sleep as they were too far gone to come back and recover from different afflictions. Guess who paid for all of this. Joey was the brains and I guess that I was the brawn of the operation.

Jessica was another story entirely. She liked order, stability and was the that kind of cat that no matter how much she loved you, or you her, that belly rubs and tail pulls were verboten and punishable by a screech and a quick one with her piercingly sharp tipped claws. 'Nuff said? ... Auggie walked in just like she had done it a thousand times before, jumped up on the bed feigning oblivion to the two cats doing their best imitation of the architypical Halloween cat, all arched up and puffey, making themselves look huge with displays of hissing and spitting, posturing to the foreign invading canine enemy. The poor dog was shaking but never took her eyes off of me, pleading without words, her soul reaching out to mine tactiley, and if she had the words to beg to be left to stay with me, to override the judge and the jury, the frantic jeering villagers with pitchforks wishing to burn the witch, the monster, the eater of their children, she would have seamlessly but willingly. In the end her wish was granted by her own guardian angel, but for the next week Jessica urinated on my pillows, the bedspread, she shat on the floor in every room and did what she could to vanquish the hound and to voice her displeasure with my insistence of letting the dog stay. Auggie came with me everywhere, to work daily and I had to forgo my pleasures of NYC nightlife and band rehearsals due to the real fear that Jessica would inflict real damage to Auggie Doggie when she was asleep. Jojo on the other hand was good to go after a head touching head conversation where I spoke as well as visualized the dog's case for staying. Twenty minutes later he was golden with the Augster. Jojo was a saint, really.

To put an ending to this slice my life in abridged memoir form, within a month it was as if the four of us had been together as a team forever. We would all share Chinese spareribs (my meat eating daze), a bag for me, a bag for the other three, Auggie chomping the bones until there was nothing left for the trash. However, it was hard for me because at night when we all hit the hay Jessica took to needing to sleep on my chest, balancing like a professional log rolling champion when I had to shift from my back to my front or even my side. Jojo continued as he had done from the first night in bed with me those seven years before, finding just the right spot between my legs and I needing to make the fine adjustments throughout the night, and now Auggie Doggy who was as literally attached to my right hip and not budging an inch. In the mornings Jojo took to showing Auggie his kittycat unfiltered love and acceptance by rubbing against and licking clean Auggie's eyes and inside her ears, much to the utter astonishment and amazement which could be seen by Auggie's bewildered expression and utter astonished looks in my direction.

 

Just amazing how some of these lovebugz choose us, or adopt us as @Beth said. Our grey-fatso-cat George did exactly that about 6 years ago. One day he sat in front of our door downstairs, meeowing like he owned the place. My housemate let him in and we put out some flyers in the neighbourhood and asking arround if anyone knew about him or had lost him. We checked with the cat-boat to see if they knew anything but to no avail. Over the next couple of weeks George made himself at home and we naturally fell in love with him and he's been king ever since...
Remarkable how these things just 'seem' to happen and turn out to be some of the best in our lives. I love to see the more exotic critters here like the squirl and the spider... so cool.

 

You mean she can't swim !???! You should get her a cute little mini spider swimming pool for her terrarium so she can learn..... Under your supervision of course !

(you may be able to find some cheap uranium on Ebay)

 

Charlie, he's a big bear.

 

Yeah I did the same flyer thing with Willy Wonka (original name Jose!). Nobody claimed him but a couple of months later I was walking him one evening and some people a few blocks away from my house shouted over, "Hey! that's our dog!" Anyway, luckily for me it turned out 'Jose' had been payment for a drug deal !!! They didn't want him back. So with me he stayed and I kinda avoided that house after that as who knows what was going on in there. No wonder little Willy was looking for a new home !

 

Last edited by a moderator: Jul 29, 2016

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It never ceases to amaze me how people love their pets. We do a lot for them, and they certainly do a lot for us. Perfect arrangement!

 

I saw them and thought to myself that those are the same variety as the ones in my garden also, then remembered that we live in the same neck of the woods.

 

You carried her? She kind of looks like one of those orange baboon tarantulas - am I close? I've heard those ones are super aggressive.

I went down a youtube rabbit hole about tarantulas once.

 

Mine is greenbottle blue tarantula. Fast but weak venom for adults. You're right about orange baboon T's, they're fast and have very powerful venom. They say "run" if you're face to face with one of them :} Mine is also not proper for handling, I have it for the colors.

 

Must resist...must not give in...heart's taking over...no, I won't give in...I'm strong...must not give in...not give in...give in...

Damn, ok, he won! I just fell in love with Fonzie! How the heck can a dog be so adorable, so cute? Damn you, Fonzie, for weakening my heart of stone.

@dsjdsj enjoy the days with Fonzie. Unfortunately he's in a biblical age now, and please refrain from telling something sad in the future. I want to remember Fonzie as on that beautiful picture!

 

@dsjdsj I am in love with Fonzie too.

 

Fonzie looks like the happiest most friendly fuzzbox in existence. Please give him a doggie treat from me please.