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| Slices of Life By Jill Pertler |
My mom loved animals. She passed this wonderful gift on to me.
Growing up, our house served as home to all sorts of critters. We owned hamsters, bunnies, an ever-expanding tank of fish and a parakeet named Snickers. When my fourth grade teacher needed a home for our classroom mice, guess who cleared a shelf for the beloved rodents? My mom.
When I was 10, my sister and I saved our money ($17.50 each) to buy a white toy poodle. We named her Princess. (Why not?)
If it crawled, crept, chirped or barked, chances are we experienced the joy of that kind of pet. We had everything – except a cat.
My mom loved cats. They were her favorite critter in the whole world. She talked often of the cats she had while growing up on a farm. We even owned a kitten for a short while when I was very young. I vaguely remember the soft ball of purring fur, but not what she looked like. I do remember her name: Beauty. Our kitty lived with us for only a week before we had to give her to another family because Beauty made my dad sneeze.
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