Day 7 - 10/01/19 
Daily Writing Prompt: “Before that pet there was another”

Assignment:
Use "Animals," by Miller Williams as your prompt. Think back to when things were different. There was an animal then. Use that animal, perhaps a pet, perhaps not, guide you back in time and shape your free write. As always, you may write nonfiction, fiction or poetry, depending on your mood and where your pen guides you.

Our first aquarium was kept in my bedroom, in our “old house” that we moved out of when I was still very young. Tim and I would stand with our noses pressed against it, our breath fogging up the glass. There were two goldfish in there. “Milk makes us grow up big and strong! Mom says so!” the four year old Tim says, as he dumps his glass into the tank. My dad comes in, his eyes widen in alarm when he sees the milky water.

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Our outdoor fish was big. He lived in the pond in our backyard, which Tim and I had dug over spring break when I was in middle school, and my parents had finished with rubberized tarp, decorative stone, and a nice wood bridge. He had survived many winters, thanks to the pond de-icer. He seemed to thrive on a diet of bugs – especially the mosquito larvae that we continually battled against in the summertime. We would sit by the pond and talk to him, he paid us no mind at all.

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My dad felt strongly that if we were to keep bunnies, they should be given as much freedom as possible, and not live a life of confinement in a cage. He built a hutch in the backyard, with a ramp, and an enclosure that gave them a wide roaming area in the dirt of our backyard. I litter-box trained our two floppy eared bunnies, by scooping their round pellets into the litter-box enough times that they learned that that corner was the one to do their business in. I don’t remember what we originally named them, but I do recall that I eventually re-named them “Beelzebub” and “Lucifer” – the freedom of free ranging had turned them feral. We spent all of our time frantically retrieving them from under various hiding places in our backyard. They had learned to dig under the fencing enclosure to escape, but would then hide in terror from all the birds, cats, and coyotes in the neighborhood. They were too dumb to realize the hutch and enclosure were for their safety.

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“I’m coming by now, and I have a tiny creature with me,” Forrest texted me. We were going to meet Isaac for coffee and vegan pastries at Timeless, the morning after we had a band celebration for Forrest’s birthday. Forrest picked me up in his truck, and indeed there was a tiny black puppy nestled on a blanket in the passenger seat. She was so petite I could fit her neatly in my two cradled hands. “We heard something screaming when we were walking home on San Pablo after leaving Missouri Lounge,” Forrest explained. “She was wedged between a cooler and the wall, someone had abandoned her on the street in that cooler I think!” How could anyone be so cruel, I thought to myself, gazing down at the wriggling black critter, who was gnawing on her front paw. “She spent the night sleeping in Nick’s beard, and peed in it,” Forrest continued. “He thinks we should name her Sabbath.”

We meet Isaac in front of Timeless, and Sabbath is terrified of Isaac’s sturdy and large frame, cowering away from him. She’s clearly come from a traumatic background. She seems most comfortable nestled in my arms, or biting Forrest’s beard. She’s curious, and her tiny switch of a tail flicks in double time. I buy her a tiny collar at Pet’s Mart, fuchsia pink, to compliment her glossy black fur. We makeshift a leash out of rope, but she’s so small we think she is likely too young to safely walk around on the ground, for fear of parvo. We are astounded to learn from the vet staffing the adoption event at the Pet’s Mart that judging by the size of her teeth and paws, she’s likely around 12 weeks old! She must be malnourished to be so tiny. But at least we don’t have to worry about formula feeding her.

After some debate, we decide she is going home with Isaac – he’s the only one who has a lease that allows dogs. Sabbath is ours.