My first pet was actually my dad's first baby, born before he and Mom were married: a white-and-apricot toy poodle, St. Charity Robbins. "Charity" was one of the first words I said, according to what Mom wrote in my baby book, although it came out as "Tare-tee." I also used to say "ro-ro," which meant "roll over," a command Dad taught her. Charity lived to the ripe old age of 13 or so, when Dad put her to sleep. She had once fallen out the window of a moving car and had epileptic seizures after that. She was nearly blind with cataracts and deaf, and consequently, startled easily and snapped frequently at family members. My parents have a portrait of Charity with my three-year-old self taken by a family friend who had a professional camera. I think I'll send them an e-mail and ask to scan it...it would make a nice addition to my journal.
Tessa is our shorthair brown-and-black tabby who rules the Midkiff household these days. Her favorite thing is to snuggle on my lap when I first wake up and sit down at the computer to read my favorite genealogy blogs. She's a bit of a spitfire, but it's during that cuddle time that I'm allowed to rub her tummy and she doesn't mind a bit, purring deep in her throat and kneading my lap with her feet.
Have you written about your favorite pets for your descendants? Join me!
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