Friday Follies - The Slippery Slope of My First Pet

According to my parents, I was deathly afraid of all animals when I was very young.  Hard to believe, I know, but true.


Hesiod wondering who this vision in red is.

Being animal lovers themselves, Mum and Dad did not want their child to be afraid of animals.  And so entered a cat called Hesiod into our lives.  Dad was a high school English teacher and a lover of odd pet names, hence Hesiod.  (If you get bored reading my blog or just like to fill your brain with more info or are completely inspired by ancient Greek poets, you can read more about Hesiod here Hesiod.)  Apparently our little Hesiod was a scruffy little black and white kitten, so tiny that Dad needed to give him a big name to compensate.  He grew up into a tough tomcat, with little nubby ears that had been frozen off because of the cold Albertan winters.



Hesiod lived up to his epic name - he made an epic journey.  Mum and Dad were asked to look after some friend's children on a farm west of Edmonton while they were away.  Shortly into the stay, Hesiod disappeared but then reappeared a couple of weeks later at our house in Sherwood Park, which is east of Edmonton.  Amazing!

Later our family moved to an acreage east of Sherwood Park.  Poor Hesiod must have decided that enough was enough, and left.  Mum did happen to see him one day while driving us to school in Sherwood Park.  She managed to catch the old tom, despite his best efforts to flay her flesh with his claws.  But after locking him up for about a week, he took off again, never to be found.

Personally, I like to think that he made his way back to the Sherwood Park house, charmed the new occupants and lived a life of luxury, cuddles and belly rubs until he passed away peacefully of old age.  That's what I like to think, please don't put statistics, probabilities or reality into it, I couldn't bear it.

And that, my friends, was my first cat.

I think we can all agree that this was the first of many parenting mistakes by Doug and Louise.


Anyone that knows me, knows that I am nothing without my pets and that my world would be very bleak indeed.  Since that fateful decision, my main aim in life is to love more pets.  More. Pets. Please. Please??  Growing up, our house was never empty of pets after that, no matter what side of the equator we lived on.  Dogs, cats, hamsters (oh, my beloved Peter Brady), fish, guinea pigs and rabbits all had a place in our family.  Dad always brought home the cats, and Mum really seemed to enjoy it when I asked for guinea pigs or rabbits.  I think she shed as many tears as I did when they met their inevitable end.  To us, a house is empty without a pet in it.  Somehow their presence fills the house with light and love, and a fair share of laughter.

Sam, the cutie.  Check out those slippers - they had
to have been crafted by a grandmother

Just to keep the universe in balance, below is a picture of our first dog, Sam.  He was lovely and we loved him to bits, but when we moved to Australia he had to be rehomed with friends.  He was no cat - that wasn't his fault, he was born a dog.  He was pretty great though.