Millions of parents start out with the best of intentions. Every Easter they decide to buy bunnies for their children. Being one of the lunatic parents who have actually purchased a pet for small children on a major holiday, they have my complete sympathy. My journey into pet ownership by children, was larger than a bunny at Easter. I actually bought a dog for my sons at Christmas. I knew I was in trouble when we had to get someone to dog sit to go to Christmas Mass. Oh, well.
I knew what I was getting into. I was not new to dog ownership. I had a dog for twelve years. And I did it anyway. I would do it again if given the choice of do-overs. I did however decide to use my knowledge of pet ownership by small children to enlighten a few of my dear friends. I warned them that they were about to enter the twilight zone. Remember the days of going to the beach when the sun is barely up, and coming home as darkness descends, exhausted children with matted hair, suits filled with beach sand, and a smile sleeping in the back seat. Well, my friend, those days are over. You can’t leave the bunny alone for twelve hours.
These are ordinarily smart people. Respectable people. I’m not sure what happens to people when their children want a pet. I know what happened to me. I became obsessed. Maybe they go back to their childhood. Maybe the full moon gets to them. I tried to be a good friend. I tried, in my most factual demeanor, to warn them. I even told them about my Easter bunny.
I was five years old. My brother and I begged for a bunny.
"Pleease Mom. Pleease, can’t we have a bunny. We’ll take care of it."
My uncle got my brother and I a bunny for Easter. My single Uncle with no children. Mom dragged us kicking and screaming to the library insisting that we learn about bunnies and the proper way to care for them. My Dad built the cage. This was not just any cage. This was a cage fit for a king. It had ventilation, a built in feeding tray, and soft sides so the bunny would not hurt himself. It was the Mercedes Benz of bunny cages. We were sat down and told that young bunnies sometimes inexplicably die so if the bunny died we would be prepared. We were given our list of instructions regarding handling, and stress to the bunny. Heady stuff for a five year old. We officially became pet owners.
The bunny didn’t die. In fact, he flourished. He grew bigger by the second. In two months Dad had to build a new cage. And six months later he had to build another one. By the time the bunny was a year old Dad had built him four cages each one bigger and more luxurious than the last. By the time he got to the year old cage, he decided to really get creative. He connected all of the old cages to the new one making a bunny complex in our backyard. Mom just walked around the monstrosity, as she liked to call it, shaking her head. I found the bunny books in her room opened to the chapter on “ Why Bunnies Die Early”.
Our bunny did not die early. In fact it got so big so fast that my parents took it to the vet. They wanted to know what was wrong with our bunny. It obviously had a genetic defect. It’s growth gene was clearly out of whack. Surprise! We didn’t actually have a bunny. We had some sort of exotic hare. These things apparently can grow to be about twenty pounds and live for a very long time. The color drained completely out of my Mom’s face. My Dad was smiling. He was going to be building cages for a very long time. The cage complex took over our backyard. My Italian Grandmother would show up periodically to put a death spell on the hare. A bunch of my aunts would come over dressed in black to assist in this family ritual. It didn’t work. Our hare lived to be twelve years old. It was over twenty pounds when it finally passed.
My friend bought her daughter a bunny for Easter. I warned her. She did not take heed. It was her compromise pet. This poor child will never own a dog, or a cat, or any other pet that has run of her mother’s house. Mommy is not a pet person. The rabbit was a big success. A huge success in fact. The cousins all loved the bunny. They petted her. They played music near her cage. They danced for her. They took this bunny into the bosom of their family. Twenty four hours later the bunny was dead. The little girl is freaked out. The older brothers are upset. Mom is holding the dead bunny trying to figure out what one does with a dead bunny while trying to comfort her children. Dad was at work when the bunny passed. He comforted the upset family via the telephone while trying to come up with a plan. The bunny will be replaced. This is a plan? Getting the kid a dog is a plan. You can put the dog out when you want to go to the beach. Dogs respond to petting by small children. The more petting the better. You don’t have to build cages. You get a dog house and done.
These two normally sane adults decided to replace the bunny. They got a bigger bunny. No one went near the new bunny. They monitored the bunny’s every movement. They watched new bunny. They fed him and loved him from afar. It didn’t help. New bunny died from loneliness.
Bunny number three has just arrived on the scene. She is a beautiful white fluffy bunny. She sits on the bed quietly. She can be squeezed, dragged, thrown, danced with, and she requires no cage or trips to the vet. She is stuffed. And perfect.
Monday, April 13, 2009
More Is Not Always Better
Every day across the bottom of my television screen a message scrolls about the change to digital television. It scrolls across telling me constantly that if I don’t have the digital box I won’t be able to watch television. At the very same time a nice gentleman that hubby works with also works at the very large cable company who wants me to get the digital service from them. The nice gentlemen offered to analyze our bill to make sure we were getting the best bundle of services. This conversation has been going on with hubby for several years. As a result hubby and I have been having the same conversation for several years. Nice gentlemen finally won. To be honest, nice gentleman was correct. I knew he was correct. We had been paying five dollars a month for a box that we don’t even use just so we wouldn’t have to go into the attic and get the darn thing out. The conversation changed from let me analyze your bill to you should have digital television.
One day the phone rings and it is nice gentlemen. He asks for hubby. He is still asleep so nice gentlemen proceeds to tell me that the large cable company will be here on Friday to update our service to the new digital box service. Oh goody. We go thru the whole parcel of services that we are going to get which as it turns out is not a really a huge parcel at all and nothing that I couldn’t live without as I have been doing that for five years already. Okay, so I don’t get the most enthusiastic consumer award. I am skeptical. I am not a big fan of more stuff and this has more stuff written all over it. More stuff is not always better. Sometimes it is just more stuff.
The big day arrives and the big cable company guy arrives. He is wearing a big cable company shirt and explains to us that he doesn’t really work for the big cable company. He is a contractor that the big cable company hired. He then explains that he is going to hook up the new digital box. Okay that means that I have to clean out the television stand that holds my vcr, cable box, dvd and assorted tapes and dvds. Oh good, more stuff and cleaning. I am waiting for Allen Funt to jump out and scream “Surprise! You’re on candid camera!” Hubby jumps in and empties out the stand. He’s trying to get out of going in the attic to search for the box that we haven’t seen in five years. Nice try. Big cable company guy is quite fast and finishes hooking things up in a few minutes. Hubby can’t find the box and promises to turn it in later. We are good to go. He hands us our welcome packet, which is a channel guide and the instructional booklet and a clicker. I knew the moment I looked at the clicker that I was in big trouble. First of all it is huge. It is eight and half inches long. Yes I measured it with a measuring tape because I couldn’t believe it was that big. This clicker has fifty-three buttons. Why exactly does a clicker need to be eight and a half inches long and have fifty -three buttons? It only needs to do three things. I should turn the equipment on and off, it should have a volume control and last but certainly not least it should change the channel. It turns on the television, it turns on the box, it turns the power on to each of those, and it has a special section for the on demand channel. The on demand section is ten buttons. Can you say overkill? Then there is a middle section with up and down and select buttons. I haven’t quite figured out exactly what this section does but it must be important because the five buttons in this section are the biggest. The bottom section has numbers so you can select the channel you want. There is a picture in picture section. I’m not sure why picture in picture needs five buttons. There is a mute button, an exit button, a last button, five buttons that have signals that must do something but I have no idea what they do that is not covered by the other forty-nine buttons. There are six on off buttons. I am hoping that someone at the really large cable company can explain to me why six buttons are needed to turn this system on and off. I could turn my old clicker on in the dark. More stuff clicker will not be turned on in the dark. In fact, I need to turn the lights all the way up and grab my glasses just to read the fifty-three buttons.
This new system is supposed to be better than the old one. It is that more stuff mentality. It’s wrong on so many levels that I have decided that I don’t want to play the more stuff is better game. I want to simplify my choices. I am standing my ground. I’ve learned the six buttons I need to turn it on, the volume button and the channel button. I am ignoring the rest. I am simplifying, downsizing, and seeking the truth. That’s my excuse, I mean story, and I’m sticking to it.
One day the phone rings and it is nice gentlemen. He asks for hubby. He is still asleep so nice gentlemen proceeds to tell me that the large cable company will be here on Friday to update our service to the new digital box service. Oh goody. We go thru the whole parcel of services that we are going to get which as it turns out is not a really a huge parcel at all and nothing that I couldn’t live without as I have been doing that for five years already. Okay, so I don’t get the most enthusiastic consumer award. I am skeptical. I am not a big fan of more stuff and this has more stuff written all over it. More stuff is not always better. Sometimes it is just more stuff.
The big day arrives and the big cable company guy arrives. He is wearing a big cable company shirt and explains to us that he doesn’t really work for the big cable company. He is a contractor that the big cable company hired. He then explains that he is going to hook up the new digital box. Okay that means that I have to clean out the television stand that holds my vcr, cable box, dvd and assorted tapes and dvds. Oh good, more stuff and cleaning. I am waiting for Allen Funt to jump out and scream “Surprise! You’re on candid camera!” Hubby jumps in and empties out the stand. He’s trying to get out of going in the attic to search for the box that we haven’t seen in five years. Nice try. Big cable company guy is quite fast and finishes hooking things up in a few minutes. Hubby can’t find the box and promises to turn it in later. We are good to go. He hands us our welcome packet, which is a channel guide and the instructional booklet and a clicker. I knew the moment I looked at the clicker that I was in big trouble. First of all it is huge. It is eight and half inches long. Yes I measured it with a measuring tape because I couldn’t believe it was that big. This clicker has fifty-three buttons. Why exactly does a clicker need to be eight and a half inches long and have fifty -three buttons? It only needs to do three things. I should turn the equipment on and off, it should have a volume control and last but certainly not least it should change the channel. It turns on the television, it turns on the box, it turns the power on to each of those, and it has a special section for the on demand channel. The on demand section is ten buttons. Can you say overkill? Then there is a middle section with up and down and select buttons. I haven’t quite figured out exactly what this section does but it must be important because the five buttons in this section are the biggest. The bottom section has numbers so you can select the channel you want. There is a picture in picture section. I’m not sure why picture in picture needs five buttons. There is a mute button, an exit button, a last button, five buttons that have signals that must do something but I have no idea what they do that is not covered by the other forty-nine buttons. There are six on off buttons. I am hoping that someone at the really large cable company can explain to me why six buttons are needed to turn this system on and off. I could turn my old clicker on in the dark. More stuff clicker will not be turned on in the dark. In fact, I need to turn the lights all the way up and grab my glasses just to read the fifty-three buttons.
This new system is supposed to be better than the old one. It is that more stuff mentality. It’s wrong on so many levels that I have decided that I don’t want to play the more stuff is better game. I want to simplify my choices. I am standing my ground. I’ve learned the six buttons I need to turn it on, the volume button and the channel button. I am ignoring the rest. I am simplifying, downsizing, and seeking the truth. That’s my excuse, I mean story, and I’m sticking to it.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)