Pets, and Growing Older

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Saturday February 19, 2011 · 12:51 AM PST

2011/02/19 · 00:51

I really shouldn't take on any more animals.

My son is an "only child". Through his dad, he has half-sisters 20 years older than he is, so for all reasonable consideration, he is an only child.

An only child can be a lonely child. Especially if the parents part ways. As we did. And as he was.

So I filled my child's life with lots of pets. Mostly cats. And some dogs. But dogs are harder to deal with, IMHO. I mean, I dealt with lots of diapers and toilet training and snot and vomiting with a human being! Why should I also deal with puppies? Kittens and cats are far more independent and dignified and less time consuming.

Well, anyway, it worked. My son was surrounded with loving animals who enjoyed his company, slept on his bed, and anxiously awaited his return from school each day. And generally rejoiced in his companionship. (While I cleaned out litter pans and coped with pet vomit and endlessly walked the dogs.) They filled a void in his life.

Now my son is attending community college full time while living at home and maintaining a half time job as well. I'm working full time as retirement seems an impossible dream at this time. Beloved pets have passed on. We still have two cats from his kindergarden years - one so aged I have to carry him everywhere. But we love him. He's part of our family.

And yet... I just rescued a little dog anyway. I may be old. I may be tired. But I still remember what these critters can bring into our lives. For me, they created a family for a lonely little boy.

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Godspeed Uncle Robert

LaniN

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Thursday July 01, 2010 · 3:23 AM PDT

2010/07/01 · 03:23

RIP Uncle Robert. We are from an older place. A fantasy place in southern plantations and such. The reality is that we were poor. We survived the trip from Bristol to the new world. We made it to Eastern Shore. We lived on oysters, mussels and clams and whatever fish we coud catch. We made our peace as best we could with the Algonquins, who became our family. We all just tried to survive, the trash from the streets of Bristol to be honest. In time, the Byrd family moved westward. And in time, you made your break from Virginia so that your branch survived the Civil War. Mine did not. They starved on Eastern shore and in the Portsmouth area.

I met you as a toddler. We were saying godspeed to my greatgrandmother as we gathered in Eastville, Va. I am so glad that you came to grips with the reality of the horror of slavery. At last. Yet so late. Yet there you were. And we made peace. Slowly. Carefully. But at least we took the tentative steps.

Oil & My Childhood Chesapeake Life

LaniN

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Saturday May 29, 2010 · 9:53 PM PDT

2010/05/29 · 21:53

This is my first diary. I'm a reader, not a writer. But the Gulf disaster is haunting me. I'm a child of the Chesapeake, with my roots going back thousands of years. For what are we losing this magnificent world? More polyester? More big cars? Our food chain is dying. Our lives are ending. For what, I keep asking.

Thank you for posting. My heart is breaking as I hear from friends in Pensacola. I know what is coming. I have been in the bay, swimming with the turtles and porpoises and crabs and fish. A nightmare slowly unfolds.

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