I am sorry to report that although Rachel and I kept our fish going for a solid ten months, Gabriel and Dr. Vanilla Ice both went to the big rice paddy in the sky last week. ¡Que lastima! But in a way this can be good. It opens us up in the event that we are able to acquire a rat or maybe a kitten. A kitten named Baxter!

I can't really explain why I get so hung up on the name of a pet, but I can say this: I love animals with people names. I've had birds, fish, cats, dogs, and for a brief while I had a snake, all with people names. Why people names? I don't know, maybe because if you think an asinine name like Spot is clever, you need your lobotomy reversed. Or maybe because I am more inclined to like an animal with a person name. Just like I am more inclined to like a person with a person name.

Although I can see myself becoming great friends with a homeless man named Pepper.

Wade, my handsome boyfriend, wants to get a kitten with me even though we don't live together. I told him I certainly wasn't going to raise a kitten as a single mother. It takes a village to raise a child, and since kittens are basically infants with claws and motor skills, I'm sure my household as a team can handle it, but I certainly can't. Besides, one day I'd have to sit my kitten down and say, "Baxter, you have a father." And then the poor kitten would just be confused. Not to mention I'm hoping I can make it to my death without having to sit ANYTHING in my care down and tell it it has an estranged father.

In any case, I should really go to bed before I construct an elaborate scenario that will eventually incorporate pirates, as I am wont to do when weary. Good night, foolish readers.