An Introduction

I'm a wife and mom to one daughter, and our suburban home plays host to various pets...some of which people may think strange to consider 'pets'.

For instance the 35 year old tortoise named Geraldine, currently hibernating on the floor of the kitchen pantry. I'll know when it's time to take her outside again when she starts knocking over the spaghetti. Ah, Spring! With my luck that'll be at 3AM and I'll assume it's a hungry prowler.

Another strange aspect of our pets is the flock of chickens in the back yard, who routinely march in any door open for more than 3 seconds and then tour the house looking for food items dropped by my 4 year old daughter. One of the hens made sure she was remembered this year by sneaking up on one of my sisters and knocking a plateful of birthday cake out of her hands and onto the bird's feathers. Pink icing! No surprise then, that that particular hen's name is 'Bear'. I was going to name her that or 'Obstacle'. You get the picture. What Bear REALLY wants to do is become Queen of the House Chickens and live inside all of the time. Usually she decides she wants this right after a dust bath when her feathers are loaded with dirt. For those who don't know, sooner or later a chicken will remember that their feathers are loaded with 40 pounds of dirt and they will shake themselves like a wet dog. Hilarity (and some swearing) ensues as clouds of dust fill the air and small sticks and stones ricochet off of the cabinetry. Watching chickens is better than watching TV!