Over at UBU, Poppy Sweet Pea has written about her dog Susie and Hannah Schneider, a Danish musician, who’s music, it turns out, is pretty wonderful…
Clicky, I need a photo of Poppy, this is going to be way to long to stick in the comments at Leggy’s place…
Ha Ha, Clicky… now get a proper one…
Oh, you’re being like that are you? Clicky, pull your socks up; I’ll start without you…
Poppy is the queen of our household. Miniature in size, humongous in impact on the running of our household. Which is quite a feat considering she’s an Olympic standard sleeper.
She had just turned 1 when we got her; she’d spent the first year of her life living in a cage, something recommended for Dooshunds’ spine development. The old lady that owned her didn’t want her, probably because she’d kept her in a cage for a year and didn’t get to know her.
“All she needs is love” is how my sister Juju described Queen Poppaea to me. We weren’t going to get another pet – been there, done that with two rats (Chewy and Han), a cat that ran away (Nat King Cat), gold fish (Tom and Jerry), a enormous, hairy German Shepherd (Klaus) and Pumpy, the moggy I took in before I took Thoughtful Man into my home – she lived long enough to meet the boys… just.
So Poppy Popstar joined our family. She’s pedigree with a fancy name (Chocolate Puzzle) and we got her for free. Mistress Ploppy is smooth as a sea lion and curls up in your lap like a cat (presumably because she has a strong spine. Thoughtful man insists that she likes to spoon during their afternoon nap). Unless she wants her belly rubbed. Then she she just lies on her back, pawing the air and presenting her soft, pink underside with a come hither look that says “I know you want to. You know I want you too. Just do it and make them long, hard strokes. I’ll tell you when to stop”. She’ll dictates the rhythm with her thumping tail…
Pops will lick your face off when you wake up, return home from work or even if she hasn’t seen you for 10 minutes. She’ll lick your legs and feet (and for some reason, the inside of my shoes) with a relentless determination and thoroughness that is a wonder to behold.
The boys adore her. She’s like a little sister to them. Thoughtful Man treats her like a daughter we never had, which is brilliant because I do not want any more kids. When she eventually goes, we’ll get another Dooshund… except I don’t think I could bear to keep one in a cage for a year. Perhaps then we’ll get a pug…
We got off on the wrong foot, Pepsi and I. She was startled and I was oblivious … it was not an auspicious start …
*Indeed Clicky. How was I to know my attempt to say ‘hello’ would result in her death?*
*Aww … thank you ❤ *
Pepsi was Mother’s cat and they adored each other. She would lie on Mother’s lap as they watched the telly; the rising hill just meant Pepsi had a better view of …
In the spring of 1967 she was a contented cat. That was until the day the earth moved …
*Ah yeah… No, Pepsi didn’t see it that way …*
*Quite!*
And it got worse for her as the kicking, ninja belly grew … less and less attention was spent in her direction as more and more was lavished on it. She withdrew to the top of the wardrobe and kept a careful watch on proceedings with her glowing green eyes …
When it was nearly time for me to arrive, Father brought home my cot. Mindful of what Pepsi was capable of, he made some provision …
Unfortunately, this was seen as a …
… and boy did she rise to it. The next day dad woke to find the netting ripped to shreds and the cat fast asleep where the baby would lay. He made the decision then, Pepsi would have to go …
*Unfortunately yes, Clicky. He didn’t have time to find a new home for her because I, too, had made a decision … to arrive …*
Pepsi died on the day I was born. Father took her to the vet and the deed was done. I didn’t get the chance to meet her … until later that is …
As a small child, I would play in my parents’ bedroom, happily babbling away, the way small children do. Mother asked me, “Who are you talking to?”
“The cat.” pointing upward at the empty space on top of the wardrobe. I’m fairly certain we managed to straighten out the misunderstanding between us then, Pepsi and me.
“We do not believe any group of men adequate enough or wise enough to operate without scrutiny or without criticism. We know that the only way to avoid error is to detect it, that the only way to detect it is to be free to inquire. We know that in secrecy error undetected will flourish and subvert”. - J Robert Oppenheimer.
I AM the SynchroMiss planted on Earth, here to share my downloads, intel, and code-cracking, integrating the art of synchronicity as we transition to a higher state of consciousness and awareness.
Library of Libraries 