KONA Kona was a mixed breed, possibly part doberman, that my parents rescued. If you knew my parents you'd understand why my dad did it but still cab't understand why my mom did. But she said Kona jumped on her when they found her in California, and she saw that Kona was shaking more than my mom was. So I guess they saved her because she used to be abused. I think my dad named her after some sort of coffee? He likes coffee. Kona was very timid and careful because of that previous home she had. Whenever my dad opened the gate, she'd run and he'd have to chase her. But she was the sweetest dog. She never even thought about biting. My parents had saved her seven years of her life. When I was merely three, Kona had to be put down because she had worms I think. I didn't really know what was happening when I said goodbye to her. But my brother and dad took it the hardest I believe because they played with her all the time. Kona, I hope you enjoyed you life with us before you left. We love you.
TOADY Toady was a little frog. We actually owned three- my mom had the tinest, named Mickey. My dad had a huge ugly toad named Wak-wak (Ribbit-ribbit in lushootseed, a language my dad studies at the school he teaches at regulary). And I had Toady. He was the middle sized one. I think I had him in kindergarten, I don't remember how long he lived. But he was very cute. He would pee on my hands sometimes; it was always funny. ONce my kindergarten teacher came over, and I took him out and he peed on my immeditely. I was all "EW he peed on me!" Then during show and tell the next day my teacher was like, "And what heppened with Today?" and I said, "He peed on me!" and the class laughed. I like making people laugh. Mickey died first. Then Wak-wak. Toady was the only one left alive. My counsins who live in California came over with my aunt and uncle for a while, which they've never done since, and I don't remember how or when, but I know that they were there when Toady finally died himself. I remember tearing up a little as we all went outside to bury him. I wish I remembered more, but that's all I can recall.
PETEY On to Petey. Petey was my little blue parakeet. I got him in first grade. When we first got him, we all stood around his cage and stared at him, and he was absolutey scared stiff and stayed completely silent. But he warmed up after a while and soon he was chirping like mad. I would take him out, set him on my shoulder, and walk around the kitchen. Usually he'd jump onto his cage off of my shoulder, but after a while he decided he liked it there on me, so he would stay. I loved him so much. We even bought him a bird bath because he liked to take baths in his water bowl. I would take him for show and tell to my school. First and second grade I did this. I tried to teach him to talk. I'd say "Pret-ty- bird. Pretty bird, pretty bird." over and over. Then one day, my grandma and mom claimed he said it! The parakeet way, kinda mumbled and stuff. I wasn't there so I wasn't sure if I believed them, but they convinced me after a while. One day I woke up with my parents over me. My mom appeared to be crying (she had grown really fond of him) and my dad looked sympathetic. My mom looked at me and said, "We have some sad news." I wondered what it could be. Then she added, "It's about Petey." Then I knew that he must've died. But I didn't want to think about it because I didn't want to believe it. I followed them downstairs. In his cage was a little dead blue parakeet under the water bowl. I began to tear up as I stroked his body. I wanted to burst out crying, but somehow I didn't want to do it in front of everybody. It was probably the first time I ever fully got to pet him without being nibbled at. That day in school (second grade), I was sobbing in line. Everybody asked what was wrong, and I would reply, "My bird died!" between sobs. During show and tell, my teacher came over and suggested I share about Petey. So I did. I wish I remembered what I said, but obviously I shared he had died and stuff and then took comments and questions. The only thing I clearly remember was me choking out classmates' names as I called on them. We buried Petey in our backyard when my friend Casey came over. We put him in a brown paper bag and put him in a hole in the soil a few months after he died. I actually became superstitious of Casey because it seemed whenever she came over, something died (my friend Kayla had died the time before, and I took that awfully hard). We moved from that house a couple years later. He's not in my backyard anymore. Petey, I loved you so much. I hope you had a great life with me. You only stayed alive for one year... and I'm sorry I couldn't keep you alive longer. (We think he died from mites that ate him to death.) Petey was probably the first pet death I'd ever really felt... with Toady and Kona it wasn't as hard on me because I hadn't really understood it as much or interacted with the animals as much as Petey. A little after he died, I got a new bird, a green parakeet named Sammy. But it was too hard. He wasn't Petey. And it didn't take long before I decided to give him away to a teacher. I didn't take this hard, because I still missed Petey dearly. I love you Petey.
Sorry it's all so long, I figured I should give them all a proper memorial. I even teared up during it, especially at Petey. Hopefully I won't have to post something for Rocky anytime soon... I have a feeling I would be the most heartbroken out of all of these pets.
