I feel so blessed that when I sit in front of my computer to work, I look out onto a hillside with a sweeping tree line. There is a ranch fence just feet away from my panoramic window, which once kept horses in. The horses are long gone, but a squirrel now uses it as his thoroughfare. Instead of seeing folks in suits and whatnot breezing by with Styrofoam cups of coffee, I occasionally make eye contact with a very fat squirrel. I wonder which one of us is more unsettled.
I have long had a desire for a fish pond. Rabbits, squirrels, raccoons, deer, bobcats, coyotes, hawks and cougars are not enough. I need gold fish. I stumbled across a plastic tub the other day in the refuse pile, and decided it would do. Though it's not a glamorous rock pond with natural curves and grace, it will hold water, and therefore fish. I dug a hole and dropped the tub in, hoping to surround it with rocks and lessen its perfect roundness. I have to cover it with wire because of the aforementioned raccoons. It's a project; I love a project.
I dragged my mom to the local pet store, and bought a starter five. At 15 cents a pop, I don't feel guilty in this recession splurging a whole 75 cents. A little food and plants, and I'm on my way. Every morning, I eagerly step out to my back deck to see if they've survived another night. So far, so good. Though I'd still like to adopt a furry pet, for the time being, my little five put a smile on my face.