Day 28 - Jellicles and our other furry friends

August 28 - He called you by your real name

     Coricopat's ears laid flat on his head as his tail bushed and he bared his teeth at the man.
     "He called you by you real name!" he hissed to his sister.  Tantomile simply smiled enigmatically.
     "Yes," she purred, rubbing her head along the outstretched hand.
     *He?  I am offended,* a feminine voice echoed in his head.  *I am glad to know the disguise is effective but really?*
      Cori's eyes crossed as two battling waves hit him.  On one side was his Jellicle self, screaming that this was a human and they were neither telepathic nor able to see their Jellicle forms as he and his sister were in right now.  The other was his animal/cat side telling him that this was a very powerful force that he needed to bow to and love and obey and follow.  Normally his sides dwelt in harmony, the instinctive feral cat and intelligent cerebral Jellicle making up the overall fabric of his being, never before had he felt so torn.  His instincts were trying to tell him something and he quieted his mind to hear the tiny voice.  It came across in bold, capital, bedazzled letters.  GUARDIAN!  This was the being chosen to protect animals, his rational side interpreted, and deserved the obedience of a pack/tribe leader.
     *Very good [             ].*
     Coricopat flinched.  No one ever spoke a Jellicle's Third Name except extremely close mates or siblings.  It was a part of their self-identity, of their soul and it felt like she, for he now knew it was a woman, was poking his life force with a stick.  Only Tantomile knew that name.  It was the only thing he had ever had to consciously share with her, and even then she had never spoken it aloud.
     *Pax child.* Peace brother* came simultaneous messages from his sister and the Guardian.
     *I apologize,* the Guardian sent along with waves of peaceful emotions as his sister twined herself around him.  *Jellicles are on the edge of my jurisdiction so I know less about their society that most creatures I come across.  Know that I would never speak your Third Name/Self-Name aloud or to anyone but you.*
     "Thank you."  His voice was still strangled with emotion but he did his best to convey his appreciation.  Then a thought occurred to him.  "Do you speak Jellicle?"
     The form nodded then replied in the same tongue.  "It requires rearranging my vocal chords a little and I don't think any slang or colloquial terms would translate well but I can understand."

     I wasn't sure where to go with this.  My first thought was Rae but I feel like I am harping on her and not developing her like I should.  My next thought was a Jellicle ... and I really wanted to simply explain why you don't call a Jellicle by their real name, if you should guess it, which you never will.  They don't pull a Rumpelstiltskin and dance around singing it.  I ended up combining them.  For some reason it was always Coricopat saying the prompt, never anyone else in the Tribe or any of my original Jellicle characters, though it did waver between him warning Tantomile or Cantata.  And if I could bedazzle the word Guardian in a sparkly pink-red, I would.


Day 28 - In the Company of Animals

      Ms. Abercrombie discusses various authors who have/had pets, both cats and dogs, as faithful companions, cheerleaders, and muses.  She also briefly discusses the fact that her current furry shadow is a rescue named Nelson.
      I am glad she made the decision to adopt and I think that using a rescue program is an excellent way to go about it.  We have used American Brittany Rescue to adopt our last two dogs and are so happy with our choices. 
     Our first rescue was Sammie, a young male who had been rescued from two different abusive homes (one neglect, the other worse).  When we went to meet him he was already named, well mannered, housebroken and crate trained, and while a little reserved, he got along with us all well.  He was the most nervous around my dad, which broke my father's heart, as he had grown up with Brittanies and even had one named Sam.  We decided one of his previous male owners must have kicked him when he went out the door because he either refused to go outside or was skittish if my dad was standing in/near the door way.  After he had adjusted to the family and warmed up to us all (though he claimed Mom as 'his' person, with me as beta) my dad and sister took an afternoon and slowly taught Sam that Dad wasn't going to hurt him by having Deanna lead him in and out of the house on his leash first with Dad standing next to the doorway, then with Dad petting him as he went though.  Later, from time to time, he would still feel too much pressure if one of us was in the doorway but by and large that was the only residue from his previous life.  Poor thing had terrible genetics and lost several teeth, ended up being mostly blind one eye (which led to several false alarms), and developed arthritis but he enjoyed cuddling and snuggling with everyone and was very glad to meet new people.  He had his preferred spot on the couch and if it was occupied during a party and the person got up, he had no qualms about reclaiming it!  Did I mention Sam's favorite spot during the day was the back of the couch?  He could see the whole neighborhood and get a nap in the sun all at once.

Pleeeeeease will you feed me?

     Our second rescue (whom we have right now) is Charlie.  Charlie is a purebreed, owner surrender, meaning his owner contacted ABR and asked them to come take him away, in this case because the wife and kids weren't happy with the dog the hubby got and wanted a pug.  They had the gall to brag about it to the person who picked him up.  Makes me sooooo mad.  The two major issues we've had to deal with on Charlie were socialization and his hunting drive.  His first family kept him outside, on a chain, so he was very happy outside, with very little interest in people or affection.  Now he gets jealous if we kids are snuggling with Dad on the loveseat, that's his spot!  lol!  We noticed a definite change after our latest camping trip, our first with him.  After dark he would curl up in people's lap or on a camp chair around the fire and since then he has staked out Dad's lap as his, which is really funny because Charlie is on the long side for a Brittany, not really 'lap' size!  For his hunt drive we ended up taking him to a dog trainer and worked with her, getting him to focus on us and learning how to calm him down when he starts racing from window to window, 'hunting' squirrels and birds and moving leaves.  Initially it involved putting him in his crate when he wouldn't stop, but now a firm 'Down' and 'Stay' works very well.  He'll complain a bit at first but then he'll settle down for a nap.  Phew.
     I could write pages and pages and pages about our beloved Brittanies, their similarities and differences and quirks and adventures (and not even start on our gerbils or my favorite cats) but sufficed to say, writer or not, pets are very important, to love and to snuggle with, with no judgement or malice or ulterior motive (unless it's dinnertime).