If you ever do feel like getting into bettas again, let me know
You're the sort of driving distance I'd be willing to make for a good home.
The thing about working with animals is, sometimes you let your guard down when you really shouldn't. For example, when you're extremely busy working, going to school, remodeling your herp room, preparing fish for shipping, and more, there's a distinct possibility that you might spend a day vigorously cleaning frogs, fish, and birds between pet sits. And maybe, just maybe, you won't wash your hands very carefully since you're rushed. And you MIGHT get salmonella.
:grumpy:
Needless to say, my last few days have been very unpleasant. In addition to being severely sick, I've had to go to my pet sitting job three times a day in the pouring rain chasing after an exhuberent puppy and two other dogs. I could only eat rice and millet without getting sick; when I dared to have a bit of soup, I puked all over the lawn while playing with the dogs. They of course promptly tried to eat it. *sigh* Dogs.
Note to Scruffy: being cute does not absolve you of complicity in the puke-nomming scheme!
One perk of being sick is that Wendy apparently finds feverish people a cozy thing to snuggle up to for warmth, much like Leo so often does when I fall asleep on the couch. I'm actually surprised, given the bunny's preference for slightly cooler temperatures, but I suppose a feverish person is a good analog for snuggling a warm, fuzzy conspecific - a pleasure Wendy's sadly been denied due to my mother's reticence to let me have her spayed. Speak of the devil, said mother snapped this cute photo of Wendy and me:
Wendy sapping some nice, feverish warmth from me while I snooze.
Brindam did not have similarly cozy feelings towards me; she was much more excited about the opportunity to explore the livingroom, a rare treat for our buns (who normally play in the kitchen). It's also possible that her age and less-than-lithe frame prevented her from getting up on the couch, of course. She got her own interaction with another mammal, however. Leo is normally restricted to the back room when the buns are out, but my father opened the door and he bolted into the living room. I panicked, thinking he would attack Brindam before I could react. However, Leo stopped dead in his tracks as the rabbit reared up for a sniff and inspection. Wide-eyed, his tail puffed up and he backpedalled out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him. Too funny!
In other critter news, my horned frog Fetus has been under the weather yet again. Fetus has never been a healthy frog, from his anorexia as a froglet, to his severe parasite infestation, suspected bought of chytrid, and near-starvation when he failed to aestivate properly. Lately, he's been refusing to soak himself, which has resulted in constipation and loss of apetite.
Thankfully after a long soak in warm water and some mild harassment, he did finally pass his waste. I have been boosting him with slurry, b6, and calcium glubionate to good effect; he self-fed on a nightcrawler yesterday and has not been quite so depressed behaviorally. Still, I wish he could consistently be well.
Fetus during one of his "well" periods.
I think the problem with captive bred frogs is that natural selection plays a powerful force in the wild, and is eliminated in captivity. Wild frogs are born in the thousands, but only a handful survive to maturity; the rest fall victim to predation, disease, competition, and other environmental forces. Some froglets are simply inherently less fit than their peers, and these froglets become the sacrificial lambs that ensure the survival of those better equipped.
In captivity, however, unfit animals persist. While they do not meet the short, painful ends that they would in the wild, they often are still less hardy and healthy even when kept under ideal conditions. I believe Fetus to be such a frog.
I sometimes wonder if I am being selfish keeping him alive when he seems to chronically run into a myriad of health problems. However, when he is well, he has an excellent quality of life for months at a time, and his well periods are longer than his sick periods. Under my moral philosophy, I could not deign to destroy such an animal. I instead view him as having a disability. It may not be as glaringly obvious as a gross physical deformity, but he is "special needs" nonetheless.
Animals with disabilities hold a special place in my heart. Perhaps it is because of my own chronically poor health and childhood obstacles. In a day and age where millions of healthy, whole animals are being euthanized every year, I feel that companion animals with disabilities need advocates desperately. Because of this, I have a long track record of readily tackling the challenges of every blind parakeet, diabetic hamster, deformed frog, fish with swim bladder disorder, and lizard with neurological problems that comes my way. Of my vertebrate companion animals, more have special needs on some level than don't. Both of my bunnies technically have minor disabilities; Wendy is deaf, and Brindam can only see properly out of one eye.
Peg the three footed European Green Toad, one of the PWDs here
I have a rarely updated Best Friends Animal Society network called Enabled Pets. The concept behind it is that the limitation of a disabled animal is often occuring on the "other end of the leash;" we have preconceptions and prejudices that cause us to focus on what the animal can't do rather than what it can, and too-often write them off as a result. When we enable these animals with (often minor) accomodations for their needs, they can and do attain a very high quality of life. I've had a bit of creative stagnation on the site, so if anyone has ideas on the kinds of topics you'd hypothetically like to see relating to animals with disabilities, please do post them here!
I'll leave you with one of my favorite quotes from a great book called Flawed Dogs by Berkley Breathed:
So in this world
Of the simple and odd,
The bent and the plain,
The unbalanced bod,
The imperfect people
And differently pawed,
Some live without love...
That's how they're flawed.
