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Medium Dawn Felagund of the Fountain

A Saga of Pets

The (Cyber) Bag of Weasels

bread and puppet




"About as much fun as a bag of weasels"...when I first saw this Irish adage, it made me think of the life of a writer: sometimes perilous, sometimes painful, certainly interesting. My paper journal has always been called "The Bag of Weasels." This is the Bag of Weasels' online home.

A Saga of Pets

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pissed off unicorn
Taking the lead from oloriel, today is Rabbit Hole Day, the day when reality takes a tumble down the rabbit hole and we express our alternate realities. Or, for a better explanation, clicky the link I gave.

I am going to use Rabbit Hole Day for a slightly different purpose: to talk about an aspect of my life on which I am usually silent. Silent? Dawn?? Yes. Because this aspect of my life is bizarre, and I sometimes suspect that no one would believe me. Since it is Rabbit Hole Day, you are welcome to believe that I am, in fact, making all of this up. But I assure you that it is true.

I have lost track of how many pets I have. I speak often of Alex and my cast of fish that constantly changes as some die, more are bought, and the new ones eat each other. The crux of my problem is that my pets insist on having pets. Each pet in my house has a pet. In fact, I am someone's pet. So is Bobby. Every living creature in my apartment has a pet and is someone's pet.

It all began about four years ago when Bobby and I made the mistake of going to Ocean City in January. During the middle of the week. When there is nothing to do. While strolling the Boardwalk, wrapped in coats and scarves, for the dozenth time, we happened upon a man walking a most-curious little white dog on a leash.

Only it wasn't a dog.

Upon closer look, the little white dog had a golden--albeit somewhat tarnished--protrusion from the top of its head. It was balking on the leash, and the sound its feet made on the boards was not the tick-tick-tick of canine toenails but a clop-clop-clop of hooves.

We tried not to stare, but it's hard, when you see a man walking a tiny unicorn on the Ocean City Boardwalk in January.

He noticed our attention and put on a winning smile. "Greetings, folks!" he chortled, clapping his hands. By now, the unicorn had the leash completely twisted around the man's legs and was lying on the boards, panting. "Do I have the opportunity for you--"

He went on to explain that the "creature presented here today" was "very rare indeed." Apparently, the belligerent unicorn was a miniature Arctic long-haired unicorn--a yearling stallion--hence the thick white coat. "What is an Arctic unicorn doing here?" I asked, reaching out to pet the little critter, who pinned his ears and turned up his lip at me. Come to find out, miniature Arctic long-hairs--especially stallions--tend to be aggressive.

I know because we ended up walking away with the unicorn.

Don't ask how! It is embarassing to admit the feats of persuasion that this man pulled, most notably that he was willing to part with the little unicorn for only $10. I later learned that this is because--despite legends to the contrary that unicorns are noble, graceful creatures--unicorns are stubborn, nasty, foul-mouthed beings. Especially miniature Arctic long-hairs.

As I was in my first throes of Silmarillion fever, I naturally named the unicorn "Maedhros," which was shortened over time to "Nelyo." Nelyo adjusted well enough over time. I learned how to groom a miniature Arctic long-hair, and he eventually stopped marking everything in the apartment. But Nelyo wasn't really thriving, and mostly, he laid around and panted. (He claims that this is because he has a hot, heavy coat of hair, not because he is overweight and out-of-shape from laying around so much.) I did a bit of reading on unicorns.com and discovered that miniature Arctic long-hairs are herd creatures. They live in large groups on the tundra, foraging or stealing what they can for food (in some places, special garbage cans have to be employed because miniature Arctic long-hairs will organize and upset them to steal old food scraps and sodden paper towels, which they also like to eat). They mate once per year, in the spring, and in the late summer, the parents build a nest into which the mare lays one or two eggs that they must protect over the winter to hatch the following spring. Miniature Arctic long-hairs don't necessarily mate for life; they are unpleasant creatures by nature, and when dealing with one's mate becomes troublesome, they simply seek a new mate elsewhere.

It became fairly clear that Nelyo was lonely. The next summer, at the Maryland State Fair, we found our fortune: One could win pet unicorns at a booth, just for smashing bags of air with a hammer. Bobby successfully smashed a bag of air, and we won a tiny blue unicorn. Unfortunately, they were eager to get rid of the unicorns and insisted that we take two, so we ended up with a green one as well.

Those were Hape and Fin; unfortunately, it became relatively apparent that they were also stallions. And they were not miniature Arctic long-hairs. No, they were miniature arboreal unicorns, and as Hape and Fin grew, we discovered that they were not as unpleasant as Nelyo. In fact, they often wagged their little tails with joy. One day, Hape wagged his little tail so hard that his whole body lifted off of the ground and we discovered the unfortunate fact about miniature arboreals: despite their pleasant dispositions, they fly.

And this is where the scheme of pets began. Nelyo was my pet. Hape--who has a bit of an attitude problem--refused to be Nelyo's pet, so Fin became Nelyo's pet, and Hape became Fin's pet. For the moment, all was in order.

Then Meryth came along.

Meryth is not a unicorn. Meryth is an Elf. Or rather, he is three-quarters of one Elf and one-quarter of one Human, in his own words. Meryth I got through an Adopt-a-Muse program, which I thought was supposed to be like a Big Brother, Big Sister program for muses who had been giving their authors hard times and could use some positive role models as to where the muse functions in the authorial relationship. Having dealt with Fëanor, I was pronounced qualified to participate in the program. Apparently, Meryth liked to shoot expensive fruit of off his previous author's head. The shooting, I learned, was not the problem so much as the cost of the fruit. Like pineapples, out of season.

I did not realize that this was a permanent live-in program--fine print in long-lost Elven languages be damned!--until Meryth showed up at our door in a cloak, with a bow and quiver strapped to his back, and two freshly killed rabbits hanging from his belt, eyeing up the organic oranges that Bobby had bought just that morning. Nelyo, who famously had terrible clashes with Hape, fell in love with Meryth. Meryth became the one to groom him, bathe him, and feed him, so that was not a bad thing, as Nelyo tends to be picky about all of these things. And Meryth is pleasant enough. Perhaps he likes me better than his prior author because he's never tried to shoot fruit off of my head, expensive, out-of-season or otherwise. The most annoying thing that he has done is insist that I allow him his own LJ. meryth, if you don't believe me.

Now, the pet count was up to four--counting Meryth as a pet--soon to be five because Meryth's not-really-an-uncle Uncle Felak came to live with us too, having been kicked out of his prior home under circumstances I am not willing to disclose here. Suffice to say that Felak's reputation was...erm...questioned. But Nelyo, our original pet, was still lonely. All of these pets and all males.

Nelyo was outside one day, walking with Meryth to pick up a pizza, and he caught sight of a glimpse of white in the woods behind our apartment. For the next five days, Nelyo relentlessly trumpeted from the balcony, convinced that it was a miniature unicorn female. Miniature Arctic long-hairs might be small, but their trumpeting is loud...and very annoying.

One day, at last, she came forth and met him on the grass. Unfortunately, it was very clear that she was a wild unicorn...and she had mange, so she was half-bald. Nonetheless, Nelyo courted her. He brought her food, which she ate, regurgitated, and ate again. Nelyo was grossed out but not dissuaded. When August came, Nelyo built a nest under the futon, and the female unicorn--called Flour--moved in with us.

Flour is just a common miniature long-hair, and she is not particularly lovely, being of a rather dusty gray color. She also hides from all of the Humans/Elves except Meryth, who is charged with taking her to PetClip, the groomer, every few weeks to treat her skin condition and always ends up with his arms bitten to pieces. Nelyo and Flour quickly grew to hate each other--being about equally unpleasant--so Nelyo is back to sleeping in our bed, on top of my head. He builds a nest out of my hair every night and growls whenever I roll over.

So this is the current scheme of pets.

Bobby's pet is Alex.
Alex's pet is me.
My pet is Nelyo.
Nelyo's pet is Meryth.
Meryth's pet is Flour.
Flour's pet is Felak.
Felak's pet is Fin.
Fin's pets are the fish.
The fish's pet is Hape.
And Hape's pet is Bobby.

And unfortunately, this is all true.
  • for muses who had been giving their authors hard times and could use some positive role models as to where the muse functions in the authorial relationship.

    ROFL!!! Authorial relationship! I think mine need to be taught where muses function in the authoritarian relationship! Is there a program for that? ;)

    I remember us talking about this on LJ once, but this entry is just so much better!
    • Here I thought no one would even read my effed up Rabbit Hole entry! Yet some of you seem to be amused. Eeeenteresting.... *drums fingers together in an evol sort of way*

      As for authoritarian training...if you find it, let me know! And I'll let you know! Though what might it be called? Big Brother, Big Hitler? *evil grin*
      • You didn't?? Are you the same Dawn who I have cracked conversations on YIM with? ;D

        Big Brother, Big Hitler? *evil grin*

        LOL!! Well, if I find it, I will definitely let you know!
  • ROFL about muses, positive role models and authorial relationships.

    And during our revamping project we rediscovered Juno-the-cat's pet: a red mouse with neon-green ears. I must post a pic one of these days.

    Which is to say - you're not alone.

    (I'm so glad that my teddybear Aloysius has acquired a sweetheart and adopted a baby! bear - bears can get so grumpy!)
    • LMAO! I'm not alone! Yay!

      My prior pet was a creature called "Animal." Animal wanted a pet, so we got him an animal called "Animal's Animal." Animal's Animal eventually acquired an animal called "Animal's Animal's Animal," but I insisted on stopping the madness there! Animal's Animal's Animal's Animal was none other than Animal, who was not happy about the arrangement but then, animals rarely are.

      Now convince Bobby he's not alone and that all men with loopy writers for wives talk to said wives' imaginary friends and muses? And Animals?? :^D
      • Well ... my cats are my main muses. And my husband does talk to them. Does that help?

        My husband has also asked me how certain characters are. But I'm afraid I'm the only one that really talks to them. *sigh*
  • Gosh, we have so much in common. I also have a unicorn, though what actual type she is is unknown to me. Her name is Sparkle and she used to belong to Becky. However, Becky prefers her flying horse to Sparkle so Sparkle glommed on to me.

    Sparkle adores shopping and gives me many compliments such as "You are too cool, girlfriend!" She has her own clothes with matching shoes and enjoys hanging out on my bed when not chatting with me or letting me pet her pink mane.

    She hates the cats. They tend to chew on her tail and she finds that quite annoying.

    :)
  • Gawds, this is cute. It's the slightly more insane and less naughty version of my odd universe of muses from all over the place getting together or being thrust together into the same living area and forced to like each other for my amusement. Unfortunately for them, most of the new ones seem to be easy prey when the Master of the House throws a tantrum and kicks them out.

    Having dealt with Fëanor, I was pronounced qualified to participate in the program.

    And being to busy with so many pets and muses, you have relinquished the care of such a troublesome character to me, eh? Let me say that it was a match made in heaven. *cringes at cliche*
    • Oh, no worries, I kept this version of things very PG-13! In reality, my pets and muses make for very dirty conversations indeed!

      I didn't include, for example, the fact that Hape routinely accuses Nelyo and Meryth of having an Elf/unicorn sexual fling, complete with details about positions and lubricants. Or that Meryth sleeps with Bobby and me. *ahem* Hape also has a dirty version of how each son of Feanor came to be conceived that Bobby makes him tell at least once every few days that is really too dirty to even reprint here.

      We are a very fucked up family, but we have such fun! :^D
  • Meryth I got through an Adopt-a-Muse program, which I thought was supposed to be like a Big Brother, Big Sister program for muses who had been giving their authors hard times and could use some positive role models as to where the muse functions in the authorial relationship.

    Well...

    One day little Heroine walked home quite unsuspectingly from university to find a tall, dark-haired, pointy-eared individual lounging in front of her TV.

    "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" little Heroine asked the tall, dark-haired, pointy-eared individual.

    "I'm Caranthir son of Feanor and from now on I shall have you indulge in dirty thoughts about pointy-eared guys and distract you from writing pseudo-intellectual essays on action movies."

    "Wheeee!" went little sexually dissatisfied Heroine only to find out all too quickly about the Noldo's "look but don't touch" attitude. (Who went something along the lines of "ewww".)

    Ever since then she's been picking long dark hair out of her shower sink and brush, has too deal with nekkid mortal girls on her couch every now and then, and always needs to buy twice her usual amount of Chianti, chocolate and caffè arabica.

    Yes. Noldor. Think twice before you take one in.

    What I want to say with that is at least you were asked... or so it sounds, at least ;-P
    • LMAO!!

      That reminds me of a slogan that the Humane Societies around here put on bumperstickers, only I have revised it. A bit. ;)

      Look before you leap
      A Noldo is for keeps.


      I hear you on the long hair in drains. Add to that the fact that Meryth, being a "Wood Elf," finds it odd to bathe in the winter, neglecting to note that we have heat and so he sweats and smells in the winter just as in the summer. Or that I have to remind him whenever we go out that it is not considered appropriate in our culture to pee on lampposts or get naked and bathe in fountains.

      Wood Elves!

      He actually behaves worse than most of my Noldor, excluding Feanor, who likes to delete my stories and stuff.

      Muses in general are just a Bad Idea. ;)
      • Look before you leap
        A Noldo is for keeps.


        Mwahaha. That's priceless. And oh so true!

        Or that I have to remind him whenever we go out that it is not considered appropriate in our culture to pee on lampposts or get naked and bathe in fountains.

        Well compared to that Caranthir sounds incredibly cultivated. But honestly... the elf's totally spoiled by modern western culture, all expensive hair conditioner and organic olive oil etc. And he calls me 'dirty mortal'. I should have kicked him out. Meh.

        Muses. Bad idea, indeed. ;-P
  • ROFL! XD

    And unfortunately, this is all true.

    Fortunately, I think! lol - Apparently, Meryth liked to shoot expensive fruit of off his previous author's head.

    Well, as long as he cleans up the mess afterwards ;)
    • (Yes, secretly, I wouldn't trade my muses for almost anything.... ;^D)

      Meryth doesn't believe in cleaning. He comes from the forest and believes that "everything should go back to the earth"...unfortunately, that doesn't work in an apartment.

      His personal hygiene is also dismayingly lax.
  • Man, I have to tell you. I was reading this whole thread at work this morning and I literally laughed out loud at the parts about animal's animal's animal, Juno's questions, and the whole Nelyo-Sparkle thing. Actually, I am laughing as I type this because it is so freakin' hilarious!!!!!!!!
    • *Dawn bows*

      *muses bow*

      *Felak pinches Feanor's butt while he's bowing*

      *Feanor punches Felak as soon as he stands up again*

      *Meryth draws bow on Feanor before realizing that Feanor has really long dangerous-looking sword and decides to scowl intimidatingly instead*

      *Nelyo humps Flour and pretends she's Sparkle*

      *Hape makes bad joke about Feanor's long sword and butt babies*

      *Meryth threatens to wrap duct tape around Hape's tail*

      *Hape threatens to poop in Meryth's chair before remembering that Meryth is a Wood Elf and therefore has no chair*

      *Nelyo pants because he's tired from humping*

      *Fin flies across the room in an unremarkable manner and lands on windowsill*

      *Flour pees on the carpet just to spite Nelyo for humping her*

      *Dawn reconsiders a career as a writer*
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