Poor Chickens
Ah, 2011. Here you are and you’re a salty one, I can tell already. I can tell the way a dog can tell by sniffing the air that there’s a poodle in heat 5 houses away, the way a shark can smell a drop of blood from 5 miles down the coast. 2011 wants to be a game-changer. In some ways, at least here, it already is.
I’m not a resolution-setter, normally, but with the start of a new decade it certainly doesn’t hurt to set down a few goals in writing. More Pet Doctor Barbie, for one. I got Kitty Care Pet Vet Barbie for Christmas, so we’re good to go. Less politics, which others enjoy more and do better. I just hate arguing. Stay positive, even when the ship veers into deep waters. Easier said than done, I know.
Continuing with the pets- they get resolutions too: everyone could use a little self improvement. Since they lack opposable thumbs, I thought I would do my pets the favor of penning some New Year’s Resolutions on their behalf.
Brody:
1. Work on manners, i.e, we do not greet by jumping despite our natural Golden enthusiasm.
2. Dig in the sandbox or the wood chips, not in the mud.
3. Cats are for kissing, not tasting.
Apollo:
1. Remember I am a loved and valued member of the family and do not need to mark the house to establish that.
2. Walls are for leaning on, not for marking up.
3. Keep my coat full and shiny by eating nothing but my allergy venison diet.
Kekoa:
1. Be less scared.
2. Remember that I am in my forever home and I am not going anywhere.
3. Learn to brush my own teeth.
After reading these to the pets, they looked at me solemnly, then disappeared for a couple hours. Later that night, I found these pinned to the bedroom door:
This does throw a wrench in my own resolution to own some chickens by the end of the year.
