This has me thinking of our family pets of yore. First there was Lindsey the suicidal goldfish. I discovered, early one Saturday morning when I went to sneak a spoonful of brown sugar out of the canister, that she had leapt from her bowl into the kitchen sink and her death. I was crushed.
Then there was Katie, the two-timing calico cat. Once the crazy old lady in our neighborhood hired me to feed her pets while she went on vacation. Turned out, I got paid all week to feed my own cat, who she had thought was a stray and taken in but who had been coming back home to me all the while.
Eventually there were kittens, Taffy and Penny, who turned out to be a tranny and a schizoid. We were told and believed they were sisters until one day we discovered unexpected parts on Taffy but agreed to let him keep his minty name. Then after Penny survived walking straight off the second story landing and falling to the hardwood below, we began finding her inexplicably hidden, frozen between books on the shelf, on her hind legs with her face into the wall.
Oh and I almost forgot the three legged turtle who didn’t even have time to be named because I asked for him to be taken back for a fully abled four legged turtle. Wow, what a heartless kid I was. There were others, but they must have just led boring, responsibly cared for lives.
This is the song Rocky was named after, one we grew up singing because my mom grew up singing it, in the Rockies of Idaho. His full name was supposed to have been El Dorado’s Big Rock Candy Mountain. And you thought I wouldn’t be able to turn music out of this sappy post.