Wound Too Tightly

Watching the setting sun on San Francisco Bay while enjoying an evening mojito we noticed pet owners with dogs sporting sweaters and PFD's (personal floatation devices) for you non sailors...the discussion turned to the quirky nature of pet owners. Wing nuts.

My husband was quick to point out a wing nut moment of my own. More than a few years ago we had a parrot (dulce) that I found while we were sailing in Guatemala. Found being the operative word. The venue was a farmers market, and the bird was perched a top a hill of green beans. After paying twelve quetzals (about four bucks) I hopped back in the dingy and brought my market purchases back to the boat we were living aboard... open box-squak! The rest was history..The next ten years of our world focused upon this feathered friend.

Talk about being wound too tight. Rembering back to a business class flight to Paris that involved my loquacious peanut eating friend. This weirdness was met with a stream of loud off color remarks coming from the piece of carry on luggage containing my opinionated bilingual friend. All of this smoothed over with cocktails (for me) and peanuts for my feathered friend.

Glass houses. Lived in em most of my adult life, so it makes perfect sense to me to throw stones. What changed? Children.

If one has more important things to attend to, like the future wage earners to replenish the nations' social security kitty then a necessary shift of priority takes place. Nature vs nurture.

My feathered friend found a new home while we sailed the West Indies since she simply found my toddler sons' fingers irresistible. The end of the quirky pet phase but not a moment too soon. The energy and attention necessary is lost on me today as I fight to regain any sense of self I once had.
So Is it fair to throw stones? Sure, but only because those dogs sporting the PFD's were over dressed. The weather did not warrant sweaters and floatation.