My mum's been anti-pet (I dont blame her, a third floor apartment isnt really the best place to accommodate animals!) and so I spent my childhood feeding stray cats. One notable mention:
When I was in kindergarten (and just after a serious academic accomplishment), someone gave me a couple of Quality Street chocolates. Now these are those famous "Gulf" chocolates with different coloured cellophane wrappers for the different flavours. As a child, it was fascinating to hold these up to the light and see the world turn a different hue. (I think thats where I got my rose tinted vision from!!) So anyway, I was fooling around with these, and I thawt I thaw a puthy kat... HE was just sitting there and chilling. Was I to know that this was a particularly mean tempered tomcat? No way. I was just keen to have my animal friend experience the wonder of coloured vision. So I placed the cellophane over its eyes. Suffice to say, the cat didnt take too kindly to having the light taken out of his bright sunshiny world. (are cats colourblind?) And all I had to show for my troubles were a set of bleeding tracks which the cat (ungrateful b@#$&!d!) gave me for my pains. My mother was confronted by a howling child with bleeding furrows in her forearm. She didnt know whether to laugh or be concerned about the reason for my battle scars!! ....sighhhh....
Anyway, apart from the background information, I have Squill babies!! (thats squirrel, you unimaginative goof!) I dont know how many there are yet. Serenity has forbidden me from poking the nest though I'm DYING of curiosity. I've always wanted a squirrel for a pet (meaning for as long as they'll stay. I like them better jumping on the trees - yeah, I LOVE squirrels.) This liking came about since Squishy. (Cue for another tangential deviation down memory lane)......
One (daft) woman in hostel (many moons ago) found a baby squirrel that had dropped out of his nest. Obviously the little critter was oohed and aahed over by the inmates of the hostel. (Women, remember? love little furry cuddly things)...so anyway, this guy was soooo little that you held him in a fist with his head poking out of the top... and as he was passed around among coos, one (slightly deranged but good intentioned) woman said "oooh I could just SQUISH him!!"..... and the name stuck. Unfortunate nomenclature - as you will soon see.
The original owner and her roommate grew really attached to the little guy and he had his own lil shoebox residence that they toted with them to the studios, mess and canteen... (they have to be fed really often through the day).... they also slept with the shoebox between them on the double bed and the (hitherto) unathletic little guy one night got out of the box between two slumbering humans.
The End. Fin. Finis. Khatam. Squishy got squished.
No comments:
Post a Comment