Are you my mother??

I'm a terrible mother. Ha, did I get anyone's attention with that line? Yes, I have a "child", named Newman (not as in Andrew Newman, but as in Newman the Newt). I inherited Newman from a guy I knew who bought a dog and decided he couldn't properly look after a newt and a dog. So I have had Newman for approximately 3.5 years, which is a miracle in and of itself, because most people I talked to who have owned newts have had theirs die in under a year. There have been times when I thought Newman was ready to kick the bucket, such as the first time he starved himself. I couldn't get him to eat anything for almost two months, and I just assumed he was old and wanted to be put out of his misery (a form of passive euthanasia, I suppose). But, one day he crawled into his water and just started chomping away whenever he saw movement outside of his aquarium. He's a very ferocious newt. Sometimes I have to watch my fingers and make sure they don't get torn off when I feed him.

Anyhow, so the reason why I called myself a bad mother was because, to be completely honest, I forgot I even had a newt. No, I don't have alzheimer's or any other problems with memory loss, as far as I know, but when Rae and I moved to Edmonton, we were unable to take Newman and Billy Mack (our beta fish) with us because my car was packed to full capacity. So Newman's grandmother (my mom) graciously agreed to take care of our pets until we came back to Cold Lake. So the first thing I saw when I walked in the door of my parent's today was the two little aquariums...and it occurred to me that I haven't thought about Newman or Billy Mack at all this past month. My heart sank as I realized what a neglectful mother I had been. Luckily my mom is a little more on the ball, and kept our pets happy and healthy. I wonder if Newman missed me at all. Probably not...you should hear my mom talk to him like he has ears and can understand speech or something...she'll talk to him and say the funniest things.

Its bizarre on how attached you could get to something small and scaly, that can't be cuddled...but seeing as my siblings and I were neglected as children, not being allowed to have pets of the furry sort due to allergies, we had to resort to pets of the reptilian/amphibious species. Creepy...perhaps.

But to make up for it all, the first thing I'm going to do when I get into a place that allows it, is get myself a cute cuddly puppy. I'll cry when that happens. It'll be the most spoiled dog on the planet (next to Oprah's, I suppose). But again...if I forget about Newman, will I forget about my dog? What about when I have real children? Oh man, I think I'm in trouble...