I'm getting to be the Queen of Vicodin here, as I wait for these teeth to settle down, so I can go see my funny new holistic dentist guy. He's actually very sweet but I've got trust issues. The big thing in New Agey dentistry for the last several years has been to tell us that our fillings are poisoning us, and then take all of the silver amalgam out of our mouths. Older more conservative dentists say that's nuts and just an excuse to make more money. The younger groovier guys say it's incredibly bad for us and essential to remove it.
My brand spanking new, dentist, thinks it all has to go. He also uses herbal products and a filling that is biocompatible. He also said he'd go scuba diving with me in the channel islands so I'm thinking he has to be a pretty good guy, heh.
I adopted two new boy rats. They're sitting on my antique table to the left of me. I went to the store to buy crickets and wax worms for Beau's Leopard Geckos, which is hell for me because I don't believe in keeping things in captivity that need to be fed living thing, that don't have any kind of natural chance to escape. I'm relatively okay with snakes and rats and lizards and mice and lions and lambs in the wild, where it's a matter of natural selection or survival of the fittest. But to take some innocent little living being and raise it to die a horrible snakey death in a cage is just so screwed. I love snakes. I want one so badly. I'm like those characters on Saturday Night Live who come home from work and need to be handed snakes like some people need a martini. But, (and how the hell do writers get around starting sentences with but, argh) I can't have one because I think it's intolerably cruel to feed them rats and bunnies.
So, (and I know you're not supposed to start sentences with so, this is an ongoing problem for me), there I was at the pet store, feeling sorry for the crickets, they were out of worms, and leaning up against the glass window of the rat cage. They were so cute, jumping around and wrestling, yawning and snuggling up against each other. There was one in particular that I liked who kept running up to the glass looking at me, and then running back to his pile of ratty brothers, and another who was pretty cute sitting there eating his dried banana chip.
Since I have way too many pets as it is, (even my vet quit cause he can't handle it, or well, also because he's a big cynical baby, but what vets aren't, they see too much suffering and cruelty) I told myself that I couldn't save them all from snake death and started to walk away. Then Mr. Goth teenager boy walked up, with a salesperson and a box, and I just knew...horrible death by snake ingestion. So I freaked, thinking they'd take the two that maybe I was meant to save, and told them to get away from the cage, until I could at least get my two guys out. One of the salespeople I know, who was passing by said, "Seriously you guys, you'd better let her get her rats first, because she's a real animal lover. She felt bad about the crickets."
So now I have two new ratties and the girls are staring at me from their big cage in the corner. They are definitely very curious about the new baby boy rats who are getting special attention from Mom.
Sometimes in these kinds of situations I think I'm going to lose it. You know, like stand there in front of the rat cage and growl until the person gets scared off and goes away. Maybe when I'm older and crazier. Also with the crickets I always let a few go, so that there's at least a little hope for every batch that gets selected to die at my house. The lizards are my sons, and he's too little to drive to the store and get them himself, but if they lowered the legal driving age to ten, I'd buy him a golf cart and send him on his way.
Yeehaw it's time for more pain medicine. More stories to tell, back in a minute.
Con mucho carino,
PS: Thanks to Cinder for her beautiful little rattie photos, you can go read Cinder's rattie journal here