So..... You Think You Want a Turtle/Lizard/Rabbit/Frog/Tarantula/Snake/Parrot

Note: I mention my pet store a lot in this post, but the pet store did N OT sponsor this post -- all the fancy words presented here are simply MY opinions and should be not be treated as "expert advice". I also wanted to note that The Olathe Pet Store is locally owned and does not carry cats or dogs. I frequent The Olathe Pet Store almost weekly and the owner is very experienced and more importantly, responsible and knowledgable in the care of his animals.

In 2008, we got our first tarantula --- Sofia. We mostly got her because Arun was really into tarantulas at the time and a tarantula is a creature that needs a minimum of care. Also, it would seem that we are Those Parents who are total suckers for their child's every whim. Indeed. Oh sure, it did help that we had been visiting Sofia for months at the pet store and we already knew her to be super laidback and not skittish like Pinktoe tarantulas are normally known to be. I did some basic research on tarantula husbandry before getting Sofia and felt confident that I knew what we were in for. There were very few surprises except for the fact that apparently, you can develop real, life-like feelings for a tarantula. Feelings! Who knew?

Since Sofia, I've dived head-first into tarantulas as a hobby (I just purchased my 5th T last week. Oy.) Also, Arun has added geckos to his much-desired pet list. We've had a crested gecko (who died last year) and for his past birthday, Arun begged for a gargoyle gecko. In fact, he was given a choice between a gecko and a DSi and he still chose the gecko - as he put it "I like pets more than video games." Gentle Reader, it is difficult to resist that sort of earnest reasoning from a dewy-eyed 6 year old sporting an adorable mushroom cloud of hair.

World, meet Chloe.

Along the way of dabbling into the tarantula and gecko hobbies, I have considered other exotic pets as well. We are firmly entrenched in the arachnid/reptile camp for the time being, but I thought it would be nice to document some of the thought processes I go through when considering bringing a new animal into our home. Also, I've been asked all sorts of questions when it comes to exotic animal ownership and in the future, I am going to direct folks to this post.

Research
Read everything you can regarding the pet in which you are interested -- Internet, library, asking folks you know who are in the hobby. Also, most of the hobbies have message boards -- cruise a few of those. It will give you an idea of the sort of crowd you are joining, in addition to any hot topics regarding the hobby. (To Handle or Not To Handle Your Tarantula is a HUGE issue amongst the arachnid enthusiasts and the topic usually garners some heated commentary.)

It also helps to get a feel for what you want to look for in a healthy specimen of what you are wanting to buy - go to a pet store or hobbyist gathering to actually SEE the animal. I learned this the hard way -- I had done all the bookwork on crested geckos but realize now that I did not handle nearly enough of them to get a feel for personality (and I had handled mostly adults, not hatchlings.) I ended up buying a crested who was pretty sluggish and at the time, I thought he was laid back. Now, I realize a crested hatchling should do quite a bit more scampering and jumping around than ours did. I now suspect that our crested was probably not in good health when we bought him.

Age and Gender Does Matter
Often, baby critters are cheaper, but that comes at a cost because it is riskier - an adult has a more established history of health and behavior and therefore, is a safe buy.  However, buying a baby is fun because you get to watch your wee one grow.  If you do buy a baby, ask the owner how many feedings the animal has had (my store's owner likes his reptile hatchlings to have at the very least, 3 feedings to get a gauge as to health).  Also, in many animals, there are striking differences in appearances and color variations between the male and females.  Try to get a look at both lads and lasses before making your decision.  And! Even more importantly, there can be differences in life spans between genders -- male tarantulas can be found cheaper quite simply because they do not live as long as females.

Allergies and Other Health Concerns
Allergies aren't just for cats and dogs. Tarantulas are venomous, but are not fatal unless you are allergic to bees. Tarantulas also kick off uricating hairs which are painful and itchy -- they seem to affect Arun even more so since he already deals with some skin allergies. Reptiles, amphibians, turtles, tortoises may carry salmonella and it is extremely important to wash your hands after every interaction. Folks with compromised or lowered immune systems need to carefully consider these concerns.

I had him wear gloves, in case Chloe decided to kick a few hairs. Her biting him? Not statistically likely.

Food Source
What will your pet eat? Is the food source expensive? Is there a pet store convenient to your house for getting the food source? What is the feeding schedule? For example, I would love to have a bearded dragon, but I really don't like crickets. Unless I want to be going to the pet store every other day, I would have to essentially keep a cricket farm in my house. We settled on crested and gargoyle geckos because they are a happy medium -- they will eat the occasional cricket and otherwise live on a rehydrated fruit product called Repashy. Conversely, tarantulas only need a few crickets here and there - about every other week or so. I live very near to the pet store and it is quite easy to just cruise through, pick up some crickets and head back home.

Another example is that Arun really wants a snake, but I could not handle buying the food source -- MICE. Sweet, furry, adorable MICE. When Arun can actually drive himself to the pet store to procure mice, I am perfectly okay with him getting a smaller snake -- for example, a corn snake or a ball python (NO Burmese pythons in my home. EVER.) Until then, there will be no snakes in our house because I cannot buy a pinkie, then throw it into a cage and hear it squeal as it meets its doom. I simply cannot. Come to think of it, as much as I hate squirrels, perhaps I should rereconsider that Burmese python.

Life Span
How long will your pet live? Some pets, such as parrots and giant tortoises, can live past your own lifetime. Are you committed to caring for that pet throughout its life? Do you have a plan for your pet should your pet outlive YOU? If your pet has a shorter life span, are you emotionally okay with letting it go? Last year, I bought a male Pinktoe tarantula. I knew that Daniel's bargain price of $15 meant that his time on Earth was limited -- once a male tarantula is mature, they will die during their next attempt at molting (the process where a tarantula sheds its entire exoskeleton, in addition to mouth parts and sexual organs). Sure enough, last month Daniel attempted to molt and died. I was sad, but since I had made an informed decision when I bought him, I was not shocked when he died.

This is Gordon the Gecko, Jr. I sure as hell hope he lives longer than Gordon the Gecko, Sr.

Source of Knowledge and Supplies
I have been very lucky in that I have always had a good pet store nearby who employed knowledgable and responsible employees. Someone selling you an exotic pet might actually be a bit hesitant to sell you a pet -- my pet store even has a document that must be signed. Don't be offended if the pet store employee asks YOU some questions regarding your purchase. A responsible pet store simply wants to ensure their animals go to a permanent, safe home since buyer's remorse can hurt everyone, including the animal.

Hobby Shows and Conventions
Be very wary of buying an animal from a show or convention if this is your first purchase. I bought our crested at a convention and I do believe that was part of the problem. Looking back, I wasn't as informed on the subject as I should have been and I think I made a mistake on that purchase (for example, I had primarily handled juvenile/adult cresteds when doing my research -- I was not as familiar with hatchlings). Conversely, I have no hesitations on buying a tarantula at a show because I have been in the hobby for several years now and have a much better idea of what I am looking for and which questions to ask.

Expenses
Oh sure, that pet might be on sale or appear to be reasonably priced, but he is going to have needs. Food costs money - crickets are cheap, mice are not. Enclosures and accessories are not free. Substrate and cage liners are another consideration.

Anjali has proven empirically that it is far cheaper to build a tarantula and a cage out of Legos (including a blue web.) As you can see, she is very proud of her creation.

Space
Last year, someone was giving away a really cool red-eared slider turtle. I would have loved to have that animal but the space requirements were beyond what I was willing to commit to since a larger turtle needs both a dry and aquatic environment. Furthermore, turtles live for a long time! (See: Life Span)  Also consider that if you have bought a baby, that baby will grow, which means more space and potentially bigger enclosures. I now own a variety of enclosures for a variety of sized tarantulas.  (And yet, my husband still sleeps with me at night.  \)

Care
Tarantulas are minimalists in the care area. I give water about once a week, mist their cages occasionally and throw in a few crickets here and there. Depending on the state of their enclosures, I only clean them every month or so. Conversely, the fish and the gecko have to be fed every day. The gecko needs his cage misted at least every other day. The fish and the gecko poop considerably more than the tarantulas (Rule #1 of Pets: Everyone Poops!) Some animals need a consistently maintained environment - both temperature and humidity need to be considered. When the pilot light on our furnace went out, our house got really cold until we re-lit it. the next morning I lost sleep that night worrying about the gecko getting too cold and spent the night checking on him and trying to snuggle him (He was not as appreciative as you'd suspect.). From a care and handling perspective, I would be okay with a variety of lizards and even a snake, but I have issues with their eating habits (See: Food Source) A dream of mine is to have a veiled chameleon, but I doubt it will ever happen -- chameleons are such emotionally and physically sensitive creatures and their setups are fairly expensive, pretty high maintenance. I am not sure I could give a chameleon the detailed care and specific environment it needs.

Handling
Do you want a pet that you can actually pet? A gecko or a bearded dragon doesn't mind handling. On the other hand, as mentioned, a chameleon does not do well with excessive handling. Various types of tarantulas don't mind handling, but are YOU okay with handling? Even if your pet is mostly in his cage, at some point that pet needs to be removed from the cage while you clean it. In short, you WILL be handling your pet at some point. Whether you like it or not.  (If not, you can use this handy, dandy guide to trapping your animal.  Works for mice and tarantulas.  Dogs?  Not so much.)

We don't handle our tarantulas a lot, I actually don't think they enjoy it. We do, however, let them roam around once in awhile.  And occasionally play with the Angry Birds.

And now, I shall open the floor to you. Do you have other questions? For those of you also experienced in this area, is there anything that I might have missed?

Marooned

Pink Floyd, The Division Bell 1994

First and foremost! Until Midnight, August 31st, Paper Coterie is giving away $40 worth of product (excludes shipping).  Seriously -- anything you want -- photo books, personalized journals, memory keepers, personalized cookbooks. $40 worth of it is yours. At the end of this post on my review site, Queen of the Free Bees, you can find the details.  There is no catch.  All you have to do is simply create an account on their site and get busy choosing which product you want. Details are at the end of this post - see what I did just there!! I am not making you read the whole thing - just go to the end.

Moving on!

Um, today's post title is adequate. Quite simply, I feel marooned. With Arun in school every afternoon now, there is not quite enough time to do anything meaningful, such as go into Kansas City or to the zoo or anything like that. Instead, I meander around my Soul-Sucking Suburb and thus, fill my days.  Arun is quite happy scampering off to school ever day after lunch.  Me?  I am still feeling a sharp sense of loss.  

Fortunately for me, my Soul-Sucking Suburb has a wickedly awesome pet shop that offers some distraction from the shrill keening and general rending of garments. A pet shop that just happened to be selling a Rosehair tarantula spiderling (sling). The same sling I have had my eye on for well over a month. We went into the pet shop on Saturday and I discovered the sling had just molted.

Gentle Reader, it is difficult to resist a tarantula sporting a new set of threads.

And so we brought her home.

Yes, Arun has been handling her.  Rosehairs are the gentle giants of the tarantula set.  Which is precisely why I got her - I wanted something that we could handle for a change.  Pinktoe tarantulas are skittish things and therefore, I simply don't handle Daniel much.  And I would never let Arun handle him.  The downside to Rosehairs is that they sometimes kick off uricating hairs.  Which itch.  Like hell.

A few months back, I was explaining to my friend Celeste (aka Average Jane) that I choose my T names from the Social Security Admin Top 10 baby names.  I am careful in choosing the names for my Ts and try not to choose names of anyone's children.  Celeste laughed and said that she would be fine with me naming my next tarantula after her.

Alrighty, then.

Therefore, I decided to name our newest tarantula Little Celeste (because she is littler than Human Celeste. Obviously). Arun calls her Brown Celeste (because he's racist.  Obviously.) Anjali calls her Aunt Celeste (because she's confused. Obviously.)

She's slightly larger than my quarter.  She will likely grow larger than my hand.

Little Celeste is settled into her home, usually nestled under her piece of cork.  Here, she ventured along the sides of her cage to greet Daniel.

Daniel says "What?  No fucking ziti?".

To make up for the plethora of Spider Snaps, may I offer you some Simian Snaps as way of an apology???

All that tarantula wrangling wore him out.  And yes, he snuggles with Bowser most nights.

Other nights, he snuggles with his sister, too.

Not every night, though.

The boy has a reputation to uphold, after all.

Heart Beat, Pig Meat

Pink Floyd, Zabriskie Point 1970

I'm heading to BlogHer this week, so this will be it for posting this week because I'm too damned busy getting ready for a blogging conference to actually write on my blog.  Oh, the sweet irony!

This year, I'm rooming with the venerable Average Jane and a new roomie, Liz.of Everyday Goddess.  I solved the usual BlogHer Fashion Dilemma by deciding to wear what I wore last year.  I've decided to call it my Official BlogHer Uniform and be done.

May I offer up a parting present?

Angry Birds?  Their puny beaks are nothing in the face of the gaping maw of Daniel the Tarantula.

Death to the bastard, cloven-hooved swine.

Slingshot? That's medieval.

Quick, fire up the smoker! We're having smoked pork butt for dinner.

Goodbye Cruel World

Pink Floyd, The Wall 1979

I thought it would be amusing to take a video of Daniel, our Pinktoe tarantula (avicularia avicularia) catching a cricket.  Yes, I am fully aware this may indicate that I have gone to the dark side, what with me posting horrid videos of arachnid-led death and destruction upon hapless crickets.


Daniel, our pink toe tarantula catching a cricket from Kelli Oliver George on Vimeo.

Perhaps then, you may find it even more unconscionable that I would post a video of Arun, my simian son (homo sapien) doing his best rendition of our tarantula catching said cricket.


Arun, imitating Daniel the Pinktoe Tarantula catching a cricket from Kelli Oliver George on Vimeo.

And I wonder why on earth I never get selected for BlogHer's Voices of the Year.

*Shrugs*

A Great Day for Freedom

Pink Floyd, The Division Bell 1994

Today is Save a Spider Day!

As your official Ambassador of the Arachnids, you can rest assured that in our house, we arachnid enthusiasts observe this holiday with all the proper solemnity and respect due such an important cause.  Spiders in peril?  No problem.

However, you may find yourself wondering, "Exactly how does one go about saving a spider?"  Bully for you that Daniel, our Common Pinktoe tarantula (a. avicularia), thought we should provide a demonstration.  Thoughtful bloke, that Daniel.

Gentle Reader, without further ado, I present to you the following:

Kelli's Official 3-Step Process For Saving a Spider©

Items Needed:
1 Plastic Container
1 Sheet of Paper
1 Spider in Imminent Danger

You happen upon a spider in a state of jeopardy.

Oh noes! Halp!

Step 1:
Carefully place the plastic container over the spider.

Maybe this was not such a good idea. Is this container BPA-free?  

Step 2:
Slip the paper under the container and most importantly, beneath the spider.

Okay, guys.  This isn't funny now.

Step 3:
Congratulations!  The spider is now saved.
No worries, the spider will thank you later!

Seriously, guys.  NOT FUNNY. The walls are closing in.  


********************


A word of caution: this method works best with spiders.  Dogs?

Not so much.

This post is dedicated to Sofia, my first 8 legged baby, the one who started this fun little fascination of mine.

Lucifer Sam

Pink Floyd, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn 1967

Thanksgiving!  Probably my 2nd favorite holiday after Halloween.  Delicious  food that involves gravy and cranberries.  And, of course,  a wee bit of family sans all of the consumerist commercialism huffing and puffing at our doors, waiting with bated breath for Black Friday.  My family manages to dial back the Crazy for an entire day.  We have so many members now, we cannot all fit into a house, so for Thanksgiving, we rent a community hall.  There will be about 40 or so of us.  It will be loud.  It will be fun.  I simply adore my family and it also helps that I feel refreshingly normal after a day with them.  All the while knowing they probably feel the same after spending some time with me.  Touché.

Anyway, that giant sucking sound you will be hearing on Thanksgiving will be me, hunched over my Great Aunt Joan's Weird Whipped Cream Cranberry salad.

*******

In other news, we recently went to another reptile show.  I have posted about these reptile shows and truly, if you have a kid who is crazy about lizards and amphibians, you would do well to go to one.  They are incredibly cheap and require a minimal commitment of time.  We are usually done in about an hour.

This last reptile show was a special - we were on a hunt for a crested gecko and a new tarantula.

Gentle Reader, I present for you, Gordon...the Gecko

Because if you have a gecko, he simply must be named Gordon.

Arun is over the moon since he has been asking for a lizard for a year and half now.  I have been spending that time doing research.  Also, waiting to see if it was a phase that might pass.  It did not.

A crested gecko fit our needs - he can be easily handled, has a diet that includes baby food and a minimum of crickets.  It also helps that he is simply adorable.

Arun paid for Gordon with his own money.  Dollar bills that he has been carefully hoarding in a plastic bucket.  It was simply precious watching him hand over that wad of bills.  It cracked my heart a bit watching him so carefully pet Gordon and coo sweet words to him.  However, it nearly cracked my brain when I discovered that Arun was giving Gordon "airplane" rides in one of his jets.  Sigh.  Arun still has much to learn when it comes to gecko husbandry, but I think he is up to the task.

And yes, that foliage is what you think it is.  How could I resist that when I saw it in the pet store marked 50%?? No, Nancy Botwin, I am not.  Still, I did snicker when the college kid who sold me the plastic ganja asked how I knew what it was.  Dude, pass the blunt and stop talking.

Oh.  And we also got another tarantula - another Pink Toe (aka avicularia avicularia)

His name is Daniel.

He is not as pretty as Sofia. But do not tell him that. Shhh!

There is a body in Bartlesville, Oklahoma spinning in its grave.  That would be my great-grandmother.  After I uploaded these snaps, it occurred to me that she might not be so appreciative of Daniel's attempts at tickling the ivories of her beloved Steinway.

That second giant sucking sound you hear?  Is the sound of my soul.  It is most assuredly hellbound now.

Dramatic Theme.

Pink Floyd, More 1969

Madison, our a. versicolor tarantula,  is dead.  Sigh.  As I reported with Sofia's death, when tarantulas molt, it is a very stressful process and it seems that with Madison something went dreadfully wrong.  From the outlook of it, she looked gorgeous, it seemed everything molted perfectly and all of the important parts appeared to be intact.  Then, she died 2 days later.  Poof! So, now I am in the market for TWO new tarantulas. I have said that I will never get another tarantula such as Sofia, there was only one Sofia, after all.  However, I would LOVE to have another of Madison. For all of her flightiness, Madison was simply beautiful. So,  I am on the search for another a. versicolor and am hoping to snag a GreenBottle Blue as well.

In related news, I must now hunt down an alternative centerpiece for our table for Arun's Halloween party.  Trust me, Gentle Reader, when you are a tarantula owner, you put them to good use during the month of October.


Something else skittered over the Rainbow Bridge last week.  On Friday, I gave my 30 day notice to BlogHer that I wanted to withdraw from their ad network.

Damn, I wish I could write some raging, heartfelt diatribe mocking the consumerist culture that exists. How my Moral sherpa and I hiked our way to higher ground. How I "sold out" to The Man and regretted it.  How BlogHer, that Big Baddie who so many love to rail against was Evil Incarnate and I had to escape her wily clutches. How Liz's post regarding Mom Central's recent romp in the bed of the Corn Refiners Association made me look deep into the recesses of my own hypocrisies. How the $5 per Tweet program that BlogHer offered recently made me see red, instead of green. How the lovely anathematized pariah, Anna Viehle, finally convinced me that my trust capital was worth something.

The truth?  Is actually quite pedestrian.  In fact, the theme for this entire post, this entire blog is Boredom With a Capital B.  I am not sure what I want here,  I have no idea what I want to write.  I simply realized that I must unfetter myself from the financial aspect of it while I figure it all out and determine how I can stop boring myself with this place.

Listen, I would be lying if I did not admit that all of the recent events surrounding the whole "blog for hire" issue did not get me to thinking.  However, in reality, those posts did not directly involve me because no one is exactly knocking down my door, shoving dollar bills in my face faster than a group of frat guys at a bachelor party. It is actually quite simple to cut loose n' run when there so few clams at stake.  I cannot declare otherwise and this is precisely why I am not proclaiming that I have grown a new set of scruples.

What does all of this really mean?  Not much.  I will keep things the same - posting randomly about the mundane drivel that comprises my life.  Any products I receive for free, for purposes of review, will continue to go on my review blog, Queen of the Free Bees.   Obviously, I can "never say never" and hell yes, if something huge came along, I would sell out faster than you can say "cheap whore".  Realistically, that is not going to happen.

In the meantime, pardon the mess.

Jesus is totally the Don Draper of Death.

Sofia, our avicularia avicularia  (Common Pink Toe tarantula) died last week.  Yes, Gentle Reader, she skittered over the rainbow bridge and off to the great Pinned, Styrofoam Sheet in the sky.

About two months ago, I looked in her cage and my heart sank when I realized that she had molted, but had not shed her abdomen - normally, tarantulas shed their entire exoskeleton, fangs, mouth parts, sexual organs, stomach lining and book lungs.  The fact that she had not shed her abdomen was a bad, bad sign.  But still, I had hope - after all, Madison, our avicularia versicolor (Anitlles Pink Toe) spiderling has skipped shedding her abdomen, although I suspect the fact that Madison was just a tiny "sling" helped her survival.  Anyway! I had kept a close eye on Sofia since her molting, filling her bowl with water, offering her crickets.  I knew it was bad when she refused crickets.  I knew it was really bad when she went into a death curl.  When spiders die, they do not flip on to their backs (actually, they tend to do that when they are molting.)  Rather, spiders will hunker down low with their legs curled under their bodies.  And there Sofia was.  Hunkered down, legs curled.

And.  That was it.

Arun and Anjali were fairly dismayed.  In particular, Anju was very concerned that "Madison will miss her mama".  And as you would expect, they have been asking the usual questions about death - Arun went as far as to purport that "humans don't die, Mama."  And this, this, is where I give religion credit where it is due -- as the title of this post suggests,  Jesus is the Advertisement King when it comes to mortality.  Surely, nobody can sell Death like the Christians.

There are no slow-motion videos of Sofia and us frolicking in our yard with Kenny Rogers warbling "Through The Years" in the background.  There are no snaps of Sofia snuggled in bed with the kids.  There are no memories of laughter, wrestling or playing fetch.  But she was still a pet, of sorts, to us and we miss her.

I have always said that Sofia was like Cheech to the A. Avic set.  She was so very laid back - ALL of the other A Avics I have seen are very jumpy, nervous sorts.  Sofia?  Not so much.  When I would fill her water dish (an old milk jug cap), she would meander over to get a drink, but otherwise, she just hung out (huffing glue or smoking a bong, I swear). 

She would even allow us to pet her rump with little hesitation.

I think what surprised me the most is how often I looked to her cage to check in on her.  I was even caught off-guard at how teary-eyed I got when I pulled her from the cage and put her in the Ziploc bag.  And I certainly did not expect to be torn about giving her to a friend for her daughter's 3rd grade science project.

But it was the right decision - to put her out there, to show others how fascinating up close an animal that nobody loves can be.  Because of Sofia, I got over my squeamish stomach and tingling spine.  I became more open, more accepting of creepy crawlies, lizards, snakes - all of the animals that my son desperately adores. 

And now, I am just as captivated.

One man's pest is another man's pet.

A few weeks ago, an exterminator came to our door in a deluded attempt to hawk his services.  As he pointed to the spider webs dotting our house's foundation, I gently broke the news to him.  I gestured toward the "errant" webs and replied,  "Those guys are just doing their jobs. Also, we have tarantulas.  In cages.  As pets."  The guy smiled, then quickly cut his losses and ran.  I did not even bother to tell the poor sap that I routinely nudge spiders out of my kitchen sink, lest they drown.

Sofia, our Common Pink Toe tarantula (avicularia avicularia)

While it may seem that we come across our pets capriciously, nothing could be further than the truth. I had met Sofia at the pet store and knew that I wanted that particular T because she was so laid back and just plain cool.  I call her Cheech because her species is usually very skittish, but she is very laid back and calm.

Madison, our Antilles Pink Toe tarantula (avicularia versicolor)

Madison?  Not so much.  Every time I open her cage, she darts to the top, as if we have been making her pound out license plates in her enclosure.  I am not afraid of either T biting me, actually for the avicularia set, bite reports are rare.  However, they are effing fast and they are climbers.  I am more afraid of them getting lost, then falling prey to a cat or a dog.

Innernets, meet Edward.  The new kid in town.

Yes, we added fins to the mix.  Just because.

Lucy, our West Highland Terrier. Purebred "scrappy".
.
Having a dog is totally a Tale of Two Cities.  Dogs are a pain in the ass, y'all.  A squillion times more work than a cat and infinitesimally more work than a tarantula.  But a dog's devotion?  When you are sick on the couch crying from the pain of a concussion, that dog will be right there in your face because she is so worried about you.  She will be your child's best playmate. She will go places with you, happily. SHE WILL EAT YOUR EXPENSIVE CHEESE. 

Pearson, our pretty boy.

Harry, our burly stray who appeared like magic one day.  Our tough kitty is oddly sweet and the friendliest of the bunch.  

Vanessa, the shyest of our kitties, but the one that Team Chaos loves the most.  They had to EARN her trust and it is a privilege to pet this kitty most of all.

A month ago,  I brewed up a vat of sea monkeys.  Since I have that innate ability to suck all of the enjoyment out of any activity in my attempts to impart knowledge, it also provided a nice little lesson plan for Team Chaos on the topic of cryptobiosis (one of my children will be a Trivia Nerd, I am true and steady on my course.)

Homo Simian

Comes pre-equipped with opposable thumbs, inquisitive personality and an incredible ability to evolve.  Prehensile tail option no longer available. 

You might think we are done with pets.  You might be wrong. 

Arun's savings account for a crested gecko.

The only issue is that lizards are akin to mice in India and Daddy is not taking kindly to the thought of a lizard in the house. Me?  I am okay with it.  I have been researching the topic of lizards for over a year now and know that we can handle a crested gecko.  Also, I suspect the poo of the gecko will be something to behold.  And yes, that was my first thought in the matter.  What sort of scat will this entail?  What is the method for its removal?  What is the level and quality of aroma?  You see, gentle reader, the secret of satisfactory animal husbandry is the ability to handle a wide variety of shit.

Trust me, everyone poops.

Understated Hyperboles

Oof.

It appears I am the only one consulting Dr. Google.  Point taken, Innernets.  I do not need to see a doctor, I am just recovering from a nasty cold.  That is all.  No worries or fears. Except for my lack of writing style. (Psst!!! For those of you who did think that last post was entertaining enough, we need to set up some playdates.  Soon! I need more friends who are as warped am I am.  For the record, I totally blame my dad for my twisted sense of humor.  It's an Oliver Thing..)

This is probably a good point to redirect your attention and as such, I will post about my tarantulas, instead.

Awhile back, I began receiving trollish comments on my Flickr account regarding Sofia's cage. I received a message where the commenter stated that Sofia's cage was too small.  Then, the commenter asked if I was stupid or blind (at least they were politically correct enough to be mutually exclusive about the matter.)  Then, I received the following message "ciao are you italian? I would like some information about your spider because I would like to purchase it"  At that point,  I blocked It (no, trolls do not deserve gender designations.)

While I was willing to concede that Sofia's cage needed to be taller, she was acting perfectly fine and seemed about as happy as a spider could be happy, I suppose.  A sign that a tarantula is distressed is when they pace around their cage - and Sofia rarely does that. 

Anyway, I did recently upgrade both of the tarantula enclosures and am happy with the results.  It was a little stressful, though.  Let me be clear - Sofia and Madison are arboreal tarantulas, which are not an aggressive sort.  I do not question my safety with them and am not afraid of being bitten.  Okay, maybe I am a little afraid of being bitten, but that is really a fear on my part and not grounded in much truth. Overall, the Common Pink Toe (avicularia avicularia) and the Antilles Pink Toe  (avicularia versicolor) have really, really low incidences of bites.  No, it is the opposite - I am concerned with their safety. I do not want them to escape and get lost or fall from a tall height and get hurt. Or worse, become a victim of Lucy or the cats.

So.

Transferring Sofia is a no-brainer - she is so easy-going and laid-back, I have always called her the Pink Toe of the Cheech and Chong set.  Pink Toes have a reputation for being nervous Nellies and she is not. I was able to just tip the old cage into the new cage, then nudge her rump.  She resisted and climbed onto the old cage lid, but did not freak out over the ordeal.  Once she saw that I had transferred all of her pipes, bongs, Zig Zags and velvet pictures of Jim Morrison - she was good to go and happily scampered into her new home. Maybe "happily scampered" is a slight exaggeration on my part, but I think we have already proven my penchant for hyperbole, have we not?

Now, Madison?  A different story. Sigh.  She is a skittery, scattery sort of thing and she is frocking fast.  During transfer, she decided to head for the expresso machine and it was a bit of a dickens catching her.  I mean, I understand the need for coffee, but she was being ridiculous.

I am still amazed at the fact that not only am I a tarantula owner, but that I really, really like them.   I would really like to get another spiderling (specifically, a Green Bottle Blue), but X has reached his limit.

This whole spider thing all began with Nic Bishop's Spiders book - it was a book that Arun spied at Border's and he begged for it.  We took it home and for weeks, read it over and over and over.  Then, we would read it again. The first few readings, I was so queasy to my stomach and totally squicked by the molting spiders snaps.  But really, the photography is simply stunning.  And I felt myself drawn in.

Honestly, it was nice to expand myself into a new hobby, I was just so very bored with myself.

And more importantly, it was one of the first moments as a parent where my child taught me something, rather than the other way around. Thank you, Arun. 

I owe you one.

Tarantulas fit right into the theme of a dusty bookcase dedicated to Mystery Girls.  Nancy, Trixie, Kinsey?  We salute you.

Around these here parts, it is Halloween all damned year .

Making my troll proud.

Gettin' All Fancy-like With the Digital Macro Settings

If you look closely, you can see she still has a piece of her last molt stuck to her AND her carapace did not come off, either (the carapace is the dorsal part of the exoskeleton of the cephalothorax.)  I am a little worried, but am hoping it will all shed in her next molt.  Since she is still a spiderling, it is likely she will molt again in the next few months.  As opposed to Sofia, an adult, who molts only about once a year now. 

Photographing Sofia is so much fun because she is so laidback about it.  I can get really close to her with no worries of her running off. 

I love the new cork piece I put in her cage, it really accents her colors.

Toe Pick!

Can you see how her toe is a bit "clawed"?

Why?

Welcome to Pet Week here at Rancid Raves!

So, yes - we have three cats, two tarantulas and now, one dog. If it was my choice, we would have a kick ass aquarium, a 4-horned chameleon and a third tarantula (a greenbottle blue!) However, I think my husband's patience has been pushed to his max.

When I tell folks we have two tarantulas, invariably, I get a simple "Why?". I also get an "On purpose?" , which is my personal favorite. As if two tarantulas meandered through our front door and we let them stay the night.

I see all of these "pets" as a privilige and I am glad that we can do it. Having animals can get expensive, not including the fact that it helps that we live in a house with a yard and thus, have enough space for everyone.

I think most kids are crazy about animals, no? My kids are nutso about them - we have all forms of toy animals littered about the house and at this point, Anjali prefers animals to dolls and Arun prefers them to cars. I am sure my own love for nature has helped this along. I am not afraid to catch all sort of critters in our yard as Arun discovers them. Currently, we have a variety of plastic containers littering our house filled with all sorts of ghastly contents. I am glad that I have the stomach for it.

Last night, Arun was beyond thrilled to have found a garden snail in my sister's yard. Later, when we were about to leave, he was positively distraught that he had lost it - fortunately, we found it. This morning, I went to check in on him and found him snuggled up with his snail (in his bug bucket).

I hope he nevers loses that sense of wonder.

Vanessa

Vanessa is my cat from my Single Girl days and was most certainly a Child Replacement Model (Pet Peeve #234789 When folks won't admit they get pets to fulfill the desire for babies, then proceed to neglect the pet when the human children arrive.) Vanessa was named for the character Vanessa Lewis from the soap the Guiding Light. She is the sweetest, shyest and snuggliest of the cats. She is so desperate for affection at all times that even the kids are acceptable alternatives means for attention.

Harry (Black cat) and Pearson (Orange cat)

Pearson (the orange tabby) is the first pet that X and I got together. He is a pain in the ass, but we love him. Pearson came "pre-named" from the shelter. Harry (the black cat) showed up on our doorstep one icy, snowy night and quickly figured out that not only do we serve premium-quality cat food but that we are complete suckers for mild-mannered felines that wrap themselves around your legs looking hungry. He is named for Harry Potter. The grey cat? Is a neighbor cat who wanders in our yard and our HOUSE if the door is left open. This scene cracked me up how all three cats were just hanging out, so peacefully.

Madison

Madison is an avicularia versicolor, also known as a Antilles Pinktoe. She is pretty skittish and I am always a little skittish myself when opening her container. Not because I am afraid she will bite me, but because I am afraid she will escape! I chose the name Madison because it is a Top 10 Baby Girl Name and I have a twisted sense of humor.

Sofia

Sofia is supposedly an avicularia avicularia (Common Pinktoe). However, she is really way too colorful for an a. avic which makes me suspicious that she is a cross-bred avic and was misidentified by the breeder. Sofia is super laid back, I call her the stoner of the A. Avic set, because truly, she is just not as highstrung as a. avics are generally known to be. I do "pet" her but rubbing her rump sometimes, but overall, I think tarantulas don't LIKE to be handled, so I am in the Do Not Handle Your Tarantula camp of that particular debate. Sofia's name? Again, look at my tasteless sense of humor. Also, I have not yet changed Sofia's cage yet - I was waiting for a new molt and I need to get on it since she molted a few months ago. I had a troll on Flickr who went all Free Range Tarantula on my ass about the size of Sofia's cage, man she would be FURIOUS if she saw that i had not changed it.