First of all, there's Chica. She is a grade Appaloosa, and we've been together 10 years as of this past Saturday! We've come a long way since then. During the first year that I had her, she took every opportunity she could find to buck me off. She dumped me while barrel racing, while riding bareback, while jumping, while riding up a hill... she would even jerk away from me while I was leading her and take off back to her pasture. I had nightmares about her running me down. I was terrified to do anything more than groom her, which completely frustrated my dad who was "not paying to board a large dog". And yet, I clung onto her simply because I felt bad selling her to someone that she didn't know. And you know what? Best decision I ever made. About a year into our time together, we met a lady at a boarding barn who introduced us to her trainer, who was probably in her 60s at the time. Having been in a car wreck earlier in her life, she could no longer ride, but she was excellent at coaching from the ground. She really helped turn Chica and I around. Chica went on to become a Hunter Under Saddle champion, which is a pretty big accomplishment for a 15 HH horse that is built like a tank. She is a gorgeous mover (when she doesn't have her heels over her head). In the years since working with Connie, the trainer, Chica has done a complete 180. I now ride her often saddleless and bridless at all gaits, and we pretty much work on whatever I can think up for the day- flying lead changes, riding sidesaddle, jumping, obstacles. She has become that special horse that is so hard to find. I don't think I can ever replace her. While we don't ride nearly as much as we used to, she still remembers everything from back in our show days- better than I! Maybe we'll get to start showing again some day soon.
Next, we have Romeo, who was a street dog before he came to live with me two years ago. I never actually wanted a Lab; I very grudgingly took him in. My family had Golden Retrievers when I was growing up, and I always wanted something a little more unusual. My mom picked up Romeo and his friend, a Schnauzer, from the streets of her neighborhood. She had seen them off and on for several weeks. My dad really liked the Schnauzer, but he was constantly attacking Romeo and their other dogs, so he went to the Schnauzer rescue. I came home from college on a Friday and discovered Romeo in the back yard. Being the Lab that he is, he came running up to me, all smiles, tail going 90 miles an hour, and all I saw was "Lab". I kind of patted him on the head and said, "Oh, hi..." and that was it. I walked into my parents' kitchen, and my dad proclaimed, "We found you a running partner!" I said, "Him? The Lab?" I had actually come home that weekend to go look at a Flat Coated Retriever at the shelter, which I was really excited about. "But I wanted to go see the other dog." This, of course, upset my dad, who didn't know why I'd want another dog when I had one right there. But off to the shelter we went, me burying the guilt at condemning the dog in my backyard to an unknown fate at the pound.
When I got to the shelter, they took me back to see the Flat Coat. He was very excited to receive attention. They put a leash on him, and he dragged me to the fenced in yard where he proceeded to watch all of the activity going on in the yard, occasionally running up to me to be pet. But as I watched him, I just couldn't shake the Lab from my mind. Here was the Flat Coat in a no-kill shelter- if I didn't take him, he wouldn't be put down- and at home was a sweet dog that also just wanted to be loved but that faced a more dire fate if I didn't choose him. I looked at my parents and said resignedly, "If I keep the Lab, can you take me to Petsmart right now so I can go buy him a collar?" And that was that. I still think often about the Flat Coated Retriever; I hope he went to a great home. I don't know that I could have left him if the shelter had been a kill shelter. But thanks to my decision back then, I now have Romeo, who is probably the most amazing Lab in the world (not that I'm biased or anything). Sure, he had no manners when I got him, but I'm proud to say that he is now a Canine Good Citizen. Well, a CGC that still thinks it's ok for him to be a lap dog. Which, it is ok with me... who else matters?
My newest addition is Fiona, a tri-colored Corgi. She is currently 17 weeks. She is a MESS. She talks back and still hasn't quite gotten the hang of house-breaking. However, she is incredibly smart. She knows "kennel", "go potty", "sit", "shake", "spin", "up", and we're working on "stay", which she's good at for short periods of time. She is just always buzzing with energy, and I'm pretty sure she has ADD, but when she looks at you, she has this expression of pure intellegience. It generally takes her only a few minutes to learn a new command.She's also very intense; when I tell her to stay, she does not look away from my eyes until I tell her, "Good girl!" Having grown up with Goldens, who are bred to be so submissive that they will not look you in the eyes even if you hold their head in front of your face, this is very new to me- and I like it, because it brings a new level of focus that typically wasn't there when I was working with the retrievers. Corgis are just incredible little (but don't tell them that) dogs... and the howls, grunts and other noises are an added bonus! Seriously, who wouldn't laugh at a puppy stretching so big that it howls?
Ramses, my Ragdoll cat, is the love of my life. He is incredibly cuddly, and his fuzzy feet are just adorable beyond words. I got him in August of 2009 from the animal shelter- can you believe someone actually dumped this little (huge) beauty? Their loss was totally my gain. I had been wanting another cat after losing my female cat of... ten years? in May of '09. It had taken me a couple of months, but I literally found it hard to function without a cat in my life, having always had them since I was 5 years old. Ramses is practically the total opposite of Reeses, my former cat. Reeses was a tortie, and as such, she was very talkative and loved her one person- me. In spite of that, she was never very cuddly. I can count on one hand the number of times she ever jumped into my lap- and whenever she did, I would call for someone to come and take a picture. She liked to be near me, but only on her own terms. She was still very much my baby. Ramses, on the other hand, always has to be touching me. If I'm laying on my back, he'll come crawl onto my chest (all 17 pounds of him)- practically suffocating me. If I'm on my side, he'll curl up to where I'm spooning him. If I'm sitting on the couch, he's either in my lap or gazing at me from the end of the couch. He is quite talkative as well- especially if it's dinner time- but he definitely doesn't wake me up to be fed. Like Romeo, he'd much rather sleep in than get up and eat in the morning. And those eyes! He is simply a stunning cat.
I can't remember ever really having a fear of reptiles, even when I was younger. In high school I had an encounter with a cotton mouth- I would have accidently stepped on it if it hadn't warned me it was there by thumping its body- but I don't know that I ever even thought of reptiles much, unless I was out in the woods hiking. So if someone had told me back then that I would one day have 4 snakes and a lizard, I probably would have dismissed them as crazy. Well, that was me two years ago. In September of '09 I bought my first snake, a Ball Python named Roxy. That led to a Corn snake named Rowan (motley sunglow), another Corn snake named Rosalie (snow), and another snake that was probably a Corn/Rat hybrid named Ysmay. At the same time I got Rosalie, I also picked up a Bearded Dragon, which I had been wanting for a long time. And that leads me to the next member of my famly, a Beardie named Annabelle. The snakes are all long gone- Ysmay died of a disease that she had when I got her, and several friends took my other snakes when I had to move to a new house- but Annabelle still remains. Bearded Dragons are very neat pets. Their laid back temperment makes them great reptiles for a beginning herpetologist, but they do require quite a bit of care. They need special lights to simulate the Australian desert, and they require supplementation. However, spending time with them can make that care very rewarding. They acknowledge your presence, and they seem to enjoy spending time with their people. I've read that they can even learn their name and basic tricks, though reptile training eludes me. They definitely know who their person is- I've brought Annabelle with me to work, and of course everyone wants to hold her when they see her. She will reach for me when someone else has her, and though it may be hard to think of reptiles as "cute", seeing one ask for its "mom" comes pretty close.
Finally, there's Henry, my Betta fish. At one point I had 9 Bettas, which, when you consider the fact that they need to all be in separate tanks, is a lot. How did I get that many? By being a sucker and feeling bad for them in their little cups at the pet stores. Having that many is quite a chore, however, so as they began dying off, I decided I was not going to replace them. I'm quite happy just having one, and he's quite happy in his 5 gallon tank.
And that's it, for now. Someday, when I'm more stable, I'd love to have more dogs, cats, and horses, and to throw some goats in there. Basically, if I could have my own zoo, I'd be happy. Hmm... perhaps that's a career option I should look into?
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