I've never been one for pets. Dogs and cats make me wheeze and swell, gerbils and guinea pigs make the house smell like a barn, and snakes have a habit of escaping their cage (at least they did in my house). I've often toyed with the idea of getting a goldfish, though.
However, my goldfish dreams went out the window — or down the toilet, as is often the case — when I started familiarizing myself with you and your endless possibilities, T-Rex.
What an asset you would be, if only you were my pet.
You could help me around the house.
Well, maybe not.
But you could ride bikes with me.
With some minor bike adjustments, of course.
And you could go out on the town with me,
Provided we avoid the "no shoes, no shirts, no service" restaurants.
And you could be all these things without making me sneeze; stinking up house barn-style; or escaping your cage and slithering into a hiding place for days on end, making everyone in the house jump.y. Hiding is not an option for you.
Your virtues are endless, T-Rex.
So you can imagine my delight, when some girlfriends gifted me with my very own T-Rex pet.
I promptly brought you home and set you in my living area, nearest my prized books. Incidentally, my studio is so small you were also in my dining, kitchen, and bedroom areas. No matter what I was doing throughout the day, you were there by my side with your bright eyes and chipper grin.
Granted, sometimes I saw you move out of the corner of my eye and momentarily thought you were an intruder, which startled the living daylights out of me. But your steady, comforting company was worth all those heart-stopping moments.
For almost two months you were my first, dearest pet. Given your tendency to go extinct, you've done a really good job of hanging around, my helium friend.
And then, yesterday, I awoke to this:
If my experiences with goldfish are any indicator of the gravity of this situation, then it is very grave, indeed.
I'll be going out of town in a few days to speak at a conference, and I fear you will be limp and lifeless when I return.
So I'd like to take this opportunity, as you take your last life breaths, to tell you that you've been a very good pet. I have grown quite fond of you. So fond, in fact, I had plans to give you a pair of these for our two-month anniversary:
Life would have changed drastically around here.
Don't be too, sad, though, T-Rex. Yes, I will miss you; but in heaven, your arms will probably be at least 8 inches longer. The whole world will be at your fingertips.
Your devoted owner, SJ
© by scj