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Sunday, August 19, 2007

The Funny Farm

When I was six years old we moved from Vestavia Hills to Clay/Trussville, Alabama. The two towns were about 30 minutes apart but seemed worlds away. My mom got remarried and this is what forced the move. I was pretty traumatized when I had to go to first grade twice. My mom wanted to hold Heather, Holly, and I back so we wouldn't all be in the same grade. I won't go into that one. Anyway, we moved from the city to the COUNTRY. Back then there was a McDonalds that was just built and later a Piggly Wiggly. We lived in a small 3 bedroom house with 20 acres of land. I loved to go outside and explore and play but was a prisoner in my own yard for years. I would go "outback" and think a lot. What does a young child have to "think" about? Well, believe it or not it was a lot! Anyway, my sister Heather got this genius idea to hatch a chicken from an egg. So she incubated it and we waited. Then Sugar hatched and the demon-possessed rooster came along. I hated HATED H A T E D that rooster with a passion. It chased me around the yard and spurred me in the back for years. I MEAN YEARS! When I wanted to go outside I would look around and see where that evil creature was a get my badminton racket and my garbage can lid so I could go outside and ward him off. My dad loved that rooster and would feed it red hots. The rooster ATE RED HOTS. Sugar had my number. Holly (my twin) and I shared a room until Stephanie and Will came along and I made Holly sleep by the window in case a burglar came (I figured they would most assuredly come in the window and have to take her instead of me...what sisterly love) and that stupid rooster would sit by our window and crow its stinking head off at the crack of dawn. My aunt lived next door to us and after years and years of torment that rooster got stuck under her car and she drove all the way down to the Piggly Wiggly and back with it under the car and the thing still didn't die. Finally our golden retriever Brandon got sick of Sugar and took care of him if you know what I mean. It was one of the best days of my life (I am sorry to all of you animal rights people). My aunt even made me a celebratory cake (I AM NOT KIDDING). I forgot to mention that I had to follow suit and incubate my own pet hen. I didn't like her either. Then my sister had a cat named Duchess...sneaky little thing she was. She hated me. The thing would bite me and I was so scared...I mean terrified...of her that I would LOCK myself in my room if I was home alone with her. I did not want that cat opening the door and coming in my room to torment me...as if. The thing used to bite me...I mean come on. Then the dogs...let's talk about the dogs. We had 3 golden retrievers that lived inside our 3 bedroom house. They were all terrified of storms but the one girl dog (her name was Sugar also) she would about mow me down to get in the house when it was raining. She even scratched the paint off of two of my cars. What is it with the pets that are named Sugar? The animals were all flea infested. So much so that I did not invite friends to the house because I did not want them to be blessed by all of the fleas. I am so serious! My parents didn't get with the flea medicine program until after I moved out. I guess the fleas only bothered me. Then, I tried a bird. I was sure that I would make friends with a small innocent bird. Until that thing would get loose and poop all over the house. That bird had to go. Then we had a Jack Russell terrier that I had to chase down a busy road sometimes in the early morning traffic because it was my granddaddy's dog and we just couldn't lose him. On to the pet rabbits (is this boring you yet?)...I had a pet rabbit and I was very original in naming him...his name was thumper. Thumper froze to death. Yep...went down to pet little thumper and thumper was frozen. Then there was Benji...he had the mange. And let's not forget Sambo he decided to start killing all the other animals so my dad had to "put him down" in the policeman fashion. We had a whole pet cemetery on the backside of our house.
So, for those of you that know me well...I will not even pretend to like Pets and this is why!!

12 comments:

Teri said...

Note to self: Do not, under ANY circumstance, name any future pet "Sugar"...

This was very funny Jenny!

Heather said...

Hilarious! You always crack me up with your stories!

Heather said...

ps ... thoughts and prayers with you tomorrow!

Fran said...

Girl...do you run for your life when you see any resemblance of the above mentioned pets???!!!!
Very funny....i bet ya'll don't have any pets there now do ya??
Maybe traumatized for life! :)

Praying for you on Monday!
Fran

twinkle said...

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.

Henri Nouwen


Jenny, you can grieve and I will let you. Because there is a time for tears. And you can have the freedom to express all your anger and sorrow over the hopes and dreams that were snatched out of your hands when Shelby passed into the Father's Arms. She is worth all the anger and the sorrow. There is a time to mourn. Sometimes instead of burying our sorrow deep inside, we need to express it. If I were your friend in town, you and I would spend the day remembering Shelby together. We would even go to a dumpster and throw cheap dishes from The Salvation Army into the dumpster just to express our anger over her not being with us. We would SMASH those dishes! And when you cry, I'll cry. No words of comfort will come from me, I'll just share sorrow with you and pray that Jesus will comfort you. Sleep well and know that I care and I remember.

Brent Hodge said...

Never Let Jenny babysit one of your pets...ever.

This was hilarious!!!

Profbaugh said...

Oh my, I don't think I'll be asking you to puppysit, Payton anytime soon. I'd like to keep her around just a little bit longer.

~Cheryl

Heather said...

Praying for you today my friend!

Fran said...

A scripture for you Jenny on this Monday.

"Blessed are those who trust in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit." Jeremiah 17:7-8

mike said...

When I was about 5, a rooster attacked me at my great grandmothers farm.

The next day, we had chicken. My mom put 2 and 2 together and figured out that we were eating the perpetrator. The only explanation we got was some mumbling about "my youngins" and "chickens".

My great grandmom is long gone, but that mumbled phrase taught me a great deal about how you raise kids.

connorcolesmom said...

Jenny,
I loved your story - it cracked me up!!

My thoughts are with you today as you remember your precious Shelby. I pray God will comfort you and surround you with love all day. By the way, God has been placing you on my mind all weekend. He is your El Roi and loves you so MUCH!
Love you siesta,
Kim

Tam said...

My husband was reading this a couple days ago, cracking up, and said to me "you have to read this tam!" I just remembered to read it and my side is splitting! You can't be serious?!!! This is too much!

everyone...jenny's coming over, hide the dog!