Dear Darling Diary:
I have been asked to be a guest blogger for Hilltown Families. Here is my latest post about my pets:
For the most part, Kingdom life is great. There’s not much that we don’t have here. Sure, it’s beyond damp, there’s always some kind of incurable disease going around and you can’t exactly be sure if you’re going to be sitting on the throne from one day to the next, but generally, we’ve got a pretty decent set up here and there’s little left to be desired… except for maybe one thing, a normal pet relationship.
“A normal pet relationship?” you ask, “Why, pray tell!” Well, I bet you take it for granted that you can nuzzle your cat or dog, or that they’ll run and lovingly jump into your arms when you call them. You should know that not every owner/pet relationship is like that. The mere thought of being able to have one of my pets sleep at the foot of my bed or jump into my arms after a short sprint is both thrilling and highly unlikely. If I have my pet jump into my arms I’m at risk of having a 2-foot gold spike implanted in my forehead.
I own a rare winged unicorn. His name is Pointy.
Yeah, yeah, lucky me, I’ve heard it all before, but it’s not what you think. You’re thinking of the winged unicorn as a white horse with wings who flies towards rainbows and has a big beautiful glistening golden horn proudly mounted in the middle of its forehead; a mythical creature who gives off the sound of a bell tree when it opens its wings. Well, some of that is indeed true, but mainly, this creature is absolutely insane. Although Pointy has a nose and mouth, he, for whatever reason, chooses to use his incredibly sharp horn as an antenna of sorts. So, whenever he’s curious about anything, he’ll take a running start, head pointed downward, spike ready to investigate. I always know when he’s gotten out of his stable because the piercing screams of “Run! Pointy the Impaler is out!” usually give it away. Ah, yes, no one can clear a town quite like Pointy.
I’m stating the obvious when I say that Pointy has got about as much of a chance of sleeping at the foot of my bed in this lifetime as a snowball has on a hot plate.
My other pet’s name is Starla. She’s the “pet o’ choice” for princesses. In fact, unless you own one of these little critters, you’re not really considered to have “arrived” as a princess. Snow White has one, Cinderella has one and even cooler-than-thou Princess Fiona has one.
Starla is what we call a “Fairy Tale Tweeter.” That’s the name of the company that every princess you’ve ever known has ordered from.
Fairy Tale Tweeters is a company that sells those little birds that casually fly over and perch themselves on the index finger of a princess as she begins to sing. They gaze lovingly at the princess and whistle in perfect tune along with her.
Now, it may appear as though these little birds live in the forest and just kind of magically appear, ready to whistle along with anyone who dons a hoop skirt and tiara. But that’s not the case at all. These birds are put through intense whistle/perch training and getting one takes about 18-20 weeks. You thought getting the Wii was tough? Heh! Cabbage Patch Dolls? A cinch! Fairy Tale Tweeters takes the cake on “impossible to procure accoutrements.” Highly trained to match their tweet to your voice, you’ll have to fill out a 78- page form answering such questions as
1. Are you a falsetto, soprano or alto?
2. Color scheme of your dresses? (Birds are custom-dyed to match)
3. Will this be a forest bird or one for indoor/windowpane use?
4. Will there be other mythical creatures singing along?
Anyway, I guess the bottom line is that no matter how much “stuff” you have or what your title is in life, nothing matches the thrill that we all get from a cuddle with a pet or some time spent with a child.
Oh, and before I go, do me a favor…the next time you call Spot over from across the lawn, imagine him having a 2 foot gold spike coming out of that cute little forehead and let me know how fast you start running!
