Zipper

I always have a problems with starting a post. What do I write about that will even remotely interest someone? How do I begin writing about it? Why am I taking the time to do this anyways?
Those are questions for later. Much later. So while I'm thinking about how to answer them, I will comment on zippers. Zippers absolutely confound me; I just can't understand how they work! If I ever get a pet llama (which is highly unlikely), I will call it Zipper. I don't get llamas either.
When I was a child, my family didn't move around very much. In fact, I've lived in the same house for 13 years. But even if the house wasn't ever different, the inhabitants were always varied. Besides my parents, my brother and sister and I, there's been a veritable zoo of pets ranging from german shepherds to cockatiels to sugar gliders. As a result, I've learned to love animals and to speak their languages. I like dogs and everything, but they baffle me. Why on earth would you want to run back and forth for hours carrying a stick around? What makes them hate the mailman so much?
I've always kind of liked cats more. They're kind of disgusting, but they're still intriguing. Cockatiels, African Greys, and Cockatoos are hard for me to get. I guess it's just sort of a foreign idea to keep a bird inside. Why on earth would you do that?
If you like the bird that much, why don't you go live in the jungle with it? It would do you tons more good than keeping the poor bird in a cage with you. God gave birds wings for a reason.
Sugar gliders are another creature that I believe should be left outside. The only time they're ever awake is when you're asleep, and if they get out of their cage, they wreak havoc all over your house. They're hard to catch and easy to kill accidentally. They also cost $200 to $2000. Why would you pay for such an animal? That said, they are actually fun to play with, if you like having a winged mouse animal crawl over your body and go to sleep in your pocket.
Guinea pigs are my favorite small animals. They have more personality than a hamster, they're not as easy to lose, and they're prettier than gerbils. One of my best animal buddies was a guinea pig. She was the most amazing thing ever. I got her and her brother as a babies at summer camp when I was like 7. Her name was Stripe because of the white strip down her nose, and her brother was Ollie because he was pitch black with one white and pink leg. Don't ask me how you get Ollie out of that, my brother was the one who named him. Because you can't keep animal siblings in the same cage without them mating, we got Stripe and Ollie each a different mate and then sold the ensuing babies to the pet store. I loved Stripe and her husband a lot, even though I wasn't very nice to him. He was the weirdest guinea pig ever, with spiky grey hair, red eyes, and a Beethoven complex. His name was Furry.
So anyways, guinea pigs don't normally live very long, but Stripe lived about 7 or 8 years. I played with her when I was little, told her secrets when I got older, and took care of her when she got older. She would come running when she saw me, and would always purr when I tickled her. When her and Ollie were about 5, my parents got tired of guinea pigs, and sold them all to the pet store. I was devastated about losing Stripe, but I figured it was time to let her go. A few months passed, maybe even a year. One day, I was driving around town with one of my parents and I talked them into going to the pet store to look around. I never hoped to see any of our guinea pigs again, I just wanted to look at the animals and see if there were any ferrets or chinchillas or something interesting. We walked inside and toured around, looking at the fish, the cats, the birds, and the rodents. All the rodents were in glass tanks on shelves on the wall. On top there were hamsters, mice, gerbils, and rats, and then guinea pigs way down on the floor underneath the others. When I knelt down to look at the guinea pigs, I smiled. There were maybe 8 in the cage, and they were all running in terrified circles, trying to escape. I talked softly to them until they began to calm down, and then I noticed one that looked almost exactly like Stripe. She didn't seem as freaked out, she actually looked curious. By this time, I was curious too. I didn't think it was her because it had been so long, but I tentatively said her name out loud as hope began to rise in me. The second she heard me say her name, she broke away from the others and scrambled up against the glass, trying to jump out. I almost fell over. I jumped up and ran to where my dad was looking at fish toys and pulled him over to look. She recognized both of us from a distance, and squeaked impatiently until we were there, gawking speechlessly at her. I couldn't resist picking her up; as soon as she was in my hands, she wriggled out and climbed up to cuddle on my shoulder just like always. Both my dad and I were a little teary-eyed when we went to talk to the cashier. When we told him the whole story, he just let us take her home. Stripe lived with us for another 3 or 4 years until she got cancer and we had to put her down.
Most kids have dogs or horses as close buddies, but my first animal friend was a rodent.
After Stripe, my next friend was a black lab that was a rescue case from neglect. He was the sweetest dog ever, and a real Buddy. He loved to go tromping through the woods with me, and I always felt safe with him around. He was such a friendly dog that he picked up a stray beagle who followed him everywhere. We called the beagle Jet because he had been abused previously and was scared of everyone. Eventually Buddy calmed him down, and he got used to my family. Jet and Buddy stayed with us for a long time, until my parents got tired of them Buddy stealing neighbors' toys, and Jet getting beat up by a neighbor dog. They live with a church member now, and I still miss them.
Anyhows, these are a few of the pets my family has fostered: two german sheperds, a ditsy white female, and an older dark male with chronic car chasing syndrome, a talkative white cockatoo, a slightly senile cockatiel who whistled at everyone that walked past him and who loved to take showers with my mom, two fluffy cats with personality disorders, an orphaned baby robin, numerous turtles and frogs, a few different snakes, a couple beta fish who got flushed after? they died, some super smart and super dumb toy poodles, and a horse who wouldn't stay inside her fence. The horse was my first one, and her name was Spot. I always felt like Jane whenever Spot ran away -"Oh, oh, look, look!"
Besides running away, she bit me, and then a month later, kicked me in the exact same place. I don't know if you've ever been bit or kicked by a horse, but they don't give human-sized doses, they give it to you like you're a horse. My bruise was a sight to behold, complete with all shades of the rainbow. I cried when we sold Spot, but now I'm starting to see it was probably an expression of relief rather than sadness.
At any rate, it taught me that keeping a horse wasn't all sequins and glitter glue.

When I live on my own, I would love to have a monkey, or a serpent, or a camel or a manta ray or something, but maybe that will have to wait until heaven. For now I guess I'll have to settle with sugar gliders and toy poodles.