DONKEY DERIVTIONS

I, said the donkey, all shaggy and brown,

I carried His mother uphill and down,

I carried her safely to Bethlehem town,

I said the donkey all shaggy and brown.

- from The Friendly Beasts, a traditional Christmas carol

The donkey is revered by Christians for its uncomplaining labor on behalf of the mother of Jesus. It was considered unclean by the Egyptians, Jews and Muslims. The ancient Egyptians believed that the soul encounters a fearsome red ass after death. The French still have an expression, "merchant comme un ane rouge" which translates "vicious as a red donkey". It is possible that the Scarlet Beast of the Apocalypse sprang from the same Egyptian root.

The word donkey was not commonly used until the late 18th century. A plow horse was referred to as dobbin, a diminutive of Robert via Robin and an ass was referred to as dicky thence donkey, probably from Duncan or perhaps Richard. The word ass is far older and comes originally from the Latin asinus. Asinine has the same root and means stupid, which asses aren't, but they are stubborn! The name burro comes from the Spanish word borrico which in turn comes from the Latin word for a small or inferior horse, burricus.

The donkey was domesticated in the Middle East from the wild asses of North Africa about 7500 BC. Sheep and goats had already been domesticated but cattle, horses and pigs had not.

Mules were discovered early on to have more stamina (we now call it hybrid vigor) than either horses or donkeys because mules are mentioned in the Bible and the Iliad. Mules are the result of crossing a mare (64 chromosomes) and a jack (male ass with 62 chromosomes). If a stallion is crossed with a jenny (female ass) the result is called a hinny. Both mules and hinnies can be either sex. A hinny for some reason lacks the mule's stamina. Hinnies neigh and mules bray so the dad seems to contribute the offspring's vocal cords. Occasionally (fewer than 100 times since the middle of the sixteenth century) a female mule can be fertile and produce offspring. It's surprising that there are any since mules and hinnies have one more chromosome than donkeys and one fewer chromosome than horses so the chromosomes can't divide evenly. All of those 60 or so fertile mules or hinnies have been female. Nary a male mule or hinny can claim paternity to anything!

An old wives' tale explains that in order to get a donkey to mate with a mare the farmer should sprinkle urine from a female donkey around the mare, darken the stable, and play violin music (accordion music is acceptable if a violinist is unavailable). Actually I think the mare just needs to be in heat!

A character in Brazilian folklore is the Headless Mule. According to most traditions it is either a woman who has been cursed by God or her ghost. Her sin appears to have been fornication with a priest and thereby condemned to turn into a fire-spewing mule that has to gallop through the country from sundown on Thursday until sunrise on Friday. I wonder how she spews fire without a head or mouth?

The most familiar donkey slang is "donkey's years" which means a long time. This term probably comes from slurring "donkey's ears". Donkey's have very long ears which would translate into a long time.

Geometry students have long been faced with proving to their teachers' satisfaction Euclid's fifth proposition of his first book: if a triangle has two side of equal length the angles opposite them must also be equal. Because the proof is tedious students sometimes refer to the structure as an asses bridge (or pons asinorum if they are also taking Latin, which nowadays not very many are). German students refer to it as Esels-brucke and French students call it pons aux anes.

The donkey became associated with the Democratic party when Andrew Jackson ran for president in 1828. His opponents referred to him as a jackass. Rather than be insulted he gleefully adopted the strong-willed animal as his logo and put it on his campaign posters!

Another expression that is not used often any more is "talk the hind legs off a donkey". I wouldn't want to do that so I'll stop here!

MOUNTAIN LION LADY : Chapter 3 (second half)

Mut (1)

Elaine and I worked out a very elaborate plan for Mut after my graduation. I was going to work in Germany for a year, so Elaine agreed to take care of him for one semester until Gray (who was miraculously still my boyfriend after the cockroach incident) was back on campus. He had agreed to take care of Mut until my return. It was a solid plan but turned out to be a mirage that disappeared when put to the test. Elaine and her new housemate did not see eye-to-eye on much so Elaine moved to a new apartment. Unfortunately pets were not allowed. Mut was bundled off to Aunt Mary X who lived 40 miles away.

Aunt Mary X while not a complete felophobe didn't really care for cats. Fortunately her cleaning woman did and agreed to take Mut. She loved cats to excess and was soon smitten with him. Aunt Mary X's letters were filled with Edith's descriptions of the wonders of Mut. The one cloud on the horizon was Mut's happy-go-lucky life out-of-doors was curtailed. Edith lived near a factory that regularly put out rat poison so she would only let Mut go outside on a leash. In installments I learned about Mut's adventures with the neighborhood feral tom who somehow avoided poisoned rats. Upon the first meeting with the tom Mut swelled to magnificent portions with his long hair puffing out from his body and his tail twice its usual size. According to Edith, his vocalizations were something to behold. The lion in him came roaring out. It turned out to be a paper lion because after the first episode he would carefully check for the tom's presence before venturing outside and refuse to budge if his nemesis was anywhere near. Periodically they would meet in spite of Mut's best efforts and they would again have words.

All would have been well had Mut's ailment not developed. One morning he went to use the litter box but nothing came out. He shuffled around the house hunched over and uncomfortable until Edith became concerned. She called Aunt Mary X and Aunt Mary X took Mut to the vet. The vet diagnosed bladder stones and advised them that Mut should be allowed free movement outside so he could relieve himself whenever he felt the urge. We still don't know exactly what causes formation of bladder stones but the diet and not free-will urination is often suspected. No one knew that at the time. Aunt Mary X and Edith, to say nothing of Mut, were in a quandary: death by poison or death by bladder stones? What to do? Aunt Mary X was rarely at a loss for solutions for long, so she was soon on the phone talking to my sister Julie.

Julie was in medical school in Denver and living in a house with three other women, a man (no hanky-panky, just another impoverished medical student) and two cats. Charo was an attractive, dark female and her sister Fuma was a rather odd light gray. Her color wasn't odd - it was her personality. She would stare at the wall for hours then suddenly leap into the air and disappear. They often called her Schitzy-Fu.

Julie and Aunt Mary X decided Mut would be better off in Colorado. Arrangements were made for Julie to meet his plane and he was in Colorado before Daddy had a chance to splutter about the price.

Mut flourished in Denver. The other two feline residents were pampered aristocrats and Mut got to share their expensive cat food. His bladder problem seemed to clear up. The only other cat in the neighborhood was a rather dominant tom next door but they had soon worked out an arrangement with no bloodshed. Mut mostly learned to stay out of his way (he really was of debatable courage as his name (see chapter 2) suggests!).

Mut appeared to have accepted with equanimity my desertion to Germany, his removal to Edith's, and even his flight to Denver and installation in a crowded house. But every cat has his limits! Mut's were reached when Julie went to western Colorado for a two-month externship. He quietly had a breakdown. Every day he retreated to Julie's bedroom and started grooming the fur right off his beautiful, fluffy tail! When Julie finally returned he looked like a ball of thistledown with a skinny rat tail attached! His tail was completely hairless. Just by being there Julie restored his confidence and within a few months his tail was restored to its former glory.

The man of the house moved out and one more woman, Amy, moved in. Amy was accompanied by Daphne, a lovely black second-generation Siamese. Mut was the only even faintly masculine member of the household until the pedigreed puppy arrived. Gail, a secretary in a house filled with med students or scientists, must have felt in need of an ally. She decided the little Lhaso Apso fit the bill. It didn't seem to matter that he was expensive (all the other animals were rescues) and she had no money. The little puppy was as scatterbrained as his owner. Gail kept her messes confined to her room, but the puppy shared his throughout the whole house. The cats were indignant!

The household was adjusting itself to the puppy when I returned from Germany. I decided to work at the medical center for a year or so until I decided in what field of graduate study I was most interested. The only room available to me was the closet of Amy's room. Her room had originally been the recreation room and the closet was a large, well-lit one in the basement.

Six women, four cats and one puppy in what had been built as a two-bedroom house. The previous owner was an inveterate do-it-yourselfer. He had constructed a rather bewildering catacombs in the basement, subdividing it so four more-or-less bedrooms were available. Julie and Martha, a biochemist, occupied the only real bedrooms upstairs. 

Martha's mother was Honduran and Martha had a strongly Catholic bent flavored with Latin American flair. Now and then she needed a duenna, a role which Gray on one occasion was able to fulfill. Gray was in Denver for a short visit before joining a research ship bound for southern Chile and Argentina. Julie let him have her bedroom (what a sister!) and she and I took turns sleeping on the floor of my closet cum bedroom. One night the whole crowd went to a party for Amy's Spanish class. Martha wore an authentic, flamboyant Honduran costume. Julie was resplendent and entirely out of character in a glittering gold lame (sorry - the blog program won't let me type an accent) outfit of Amy's.

Amy was tall and beautiful and rather enamored of her teacher. Martha flirted with the teacher's South American friend. One thing led to another and the two men were invited to our house for coffee. We all retired except Martha, Amy and the two Don Juans. Finally Amy also went to bed leaving Martha and the two Latin lovers. Amy's teacher fell asleep on the sofa which stimulated the South American fellow to new heights. Martha noisily fought him off which seemed to further inflame his ardor. She struggled over to Gray's door and desperately appealed for help. Gray threw the two out. When I woke Martha for work the next morning she was still fully clothed. She was terrified the rebuffed Don Juan would return!

Julie graduated and the household split up. Martha, Charo, Fuma, Mut and I moved into a one-bedroom apartment. This time I got the living room instead of a closet. Mut's next adventure was about to begin.

I was wary of keeping Mut inside for more than a few days because I still believed that if he was penned up the bladder stones might form again. One evening I took him outside to look around. He sniffed at the bushes but made no move to run away. I stayed with him for about a half an hour, then called for him to come in. I usually gave him food when I called him and he was always ready for a bite to eat! 

The next evening I let him out for a short time but didn't stay with him. A mistake. When I called him he didn't come running. I called and called.

"He's probaly gone back to the house," Martha sensibly suggested. The house was only a few blocks away but across busy Colfax Avenue. I had visions of a squashed and lifeless Mut and took off running and calling towards the house. I was relieved not to find his body but worried because he had not turned up at the house. I walked and walked, calling and calling, but there was no answering "Mrrow?"

I visited the humane society shelter (they encouraged me to take another cat), put ads in the newspaper, had several radio stations announce that Mut was missing, all to no avail. I finally admitted to myself that Mut, like Fluffy before him, had disappeared. Good old lazy, lovable Mut. He'd caused my family and friends so much bother but I still loved and wept for him. Little did I know what he had in his absence lined up for my further edification!

MOUNTAIN LION LADY: Chapter 3 (first half)

Mut (1)

Mut and me in front of the house we shared

Elaine and I worked out a very elaborate plan for Mut after my graduation. I was going to work in Germany for a year, so Elaine agreed to take care of him for one semester until Gray (who was miraculously still my boyfriend after the cockroach incident) was back on campus. He had agreed to take care of Mut until my return. It was a solid plan but turned out to be a mirage that disappeared when put to the test. Elaine and her new housemate did not see eye-to-eye on much so Elaine moved to a new apartment. Unfortunately pets were not allowed. Mut was bundled off to Aunt Mary X who lived 40 miles away.

Aunt Mary X while not a complete felophobe didn't really care for cats. Fortunately her cleaning woman did and agreed to take Mut. She loved cats to excess and was soon smitten with him. Aunt Mary X's letters were filled with Edith's descriptions of the wonders of Mut. The one cloud on the horizon was Mut's happy-go-lucky life out-of-doors was curtailed. Edith lived near a factory that regularly put out rat poison so she would only let Mut go outside on a leash. In installments I learned about Mut's adventures with the neighborhood feral tom who somehow avoided poisoned rats. Upon the first meeting with the tom Mut swelled to magnificent portions with his long hair puffing out from his body and his tail twice its usual size. According to Edith, his vocalizations were something to behold. The lion in him came roaring out. It turned out to be a paper lion because after the first episode he would carefully check for the tom's presence before venturing outside and refuse to budge if his nemesis was anywhere near. Periodically they would meet in spite of Mut's best efforts and they would again have words.

All would have been well had Mut's ailment not developed. One morning he went to use the litter box but nothing came out. He shuffled around the house hunched over and uncomfortable until Edith became concerned. She called Aunt Mary X and Aunt Mary X took Mut to the vet. The vet diagnosed bladder stones and advised them that Mut should be allowed free movement outside so he could relieve himself whenever he felt the urge. We still don't know exactly what causes formation of bladder stones but the diet and not free-will urination is often suspected. No one knew that at the time. Aunt Mary X and Edith, to say nothing of Mut, were in a quandary: death by poison or death by bladder stones? What to do? Aunt Mary X was rarely at a loss for solutions for long, so she was soon on the phone talking to my sister Julie.

Julie was in medical school in Denver and living in a house with three other women, a man (no hanky-panky, just another impoverished medical student) and two cats. Charo was an attractive, dark female and her sister Fuma was a rather odd light gray. Her color wasn't odd - it was her personality. She would stare at the wall for hours then suddenly leap into the air and disappear. They often called her Schitzy-Fu.

Julie and Aunt Mary X decided Mut would be better off in Colorado. Arrangements were made for Julie to meet his plane and he was in Colorado before Daddy had a chance to splutter about the price.

Mut flourished in Denver. The other two feline residents were pampered aristocrats and Mut got to share their expensive cat food. His bladder problem seemed to clear up. The only other cat in the neighborhood was a rather dominant tom next door but they had soon worked out an arrangement with no bloodshed. Mut mostly learned to stay out of his way (he really was of debatable courage as his name (see chapter 2) suggests!).

Mut appeared to have accepted with equanimity my desertion to Germany, his removal to Edith's, and even his flight to Denver and installation in a crowded house. But every cat has his limits! Mut's were reached when Julie went to western Colorado for a two-month externship. He quietly had a breakdown. Every day he retreated to Julie's bedroom and started grooming the fur right off his beautiful, fluffy tail! When Julie finally returned he looked like a ball of thistledown with a skinny rat tail attached! His tail was completely hairless. Just by being there Julie restored his confidence and within a few months his tail was restored to its former glory.

The man of the house moved out and one more woman, Amy, moved in. Amy was accompanied by Daphne, a lovely black second-generation Siamese. Mut was the only even faintly masculine member of the household until the pedigreed puppy arrived. Gail, a secretary in a house filled with med students or scientists, must have felt in need of an ally. She decided the little Lhaso Apso fit the bill. It didn't seem to matter that he was expensive (all the other animals were rescues) and she had no money. The little puppy was as scatterbrained as his owner. Gail kept her messes confined to her room, but the puppy shared his throughout the whole house. The cats were indignant!

The household was adjusting itself to the puppy when I returned from Germany. I decided to work at the medical center for a year or so until I decided in what field of graduate study I was most interested. The only room available to me was the closet of Amy's room. Her room had originally been the recreation room and the closet was a large, well-lit one in the basement.

Six women, four cats and one puppy in what had been built as a two-bedroom house. The previous owner was an inveterate do-it-yourselfer. He had constructed a rather bewildering catacombs in the basement, subdividing it so four more-or-less bedrooms were available. Julie and Martha, a biochemist, occupied the only real bedrooms upstairs. 

Martha's mother was Honduran and Martha had a strongly Catholic bent flavored with Latin American flair. Now and then she needed a duenna, a role which Gray on one occasion was able to fulfill. Gray was in Denver for a short visit before joining a research ship bound for southern Chile and Argentina. Julie let him have her bedroom (what a sister!) and she and I took turns sleeping on the floor of my closet cum bedroom. One night the whole crowd went to a party for Amy's Spanish class. Martha wore an authentic, flamboyant Honduran costume. Julie was resplendent and entirely out of character in a glittering gold lame (sorry - the blog program won't let me type an accent) outfit of Amy's.

Amy was tall and beautiful and rather enamored of her teacher. Martha flirted with the teacher's South American friend. One thing led to another and the two men were invited to our house for coffee. We all retired except Martha, Amy and the two Don Juans. Finally Amy also went to bed leaving Martha and the two Latin lovers. Amy's teacher fell asleep on the sofa which stimulated the South American fellow to new heights. Martha noisily fought him off which seemed to further inflame his ardor. She struggled over to Gray's door and desperately appealed for help. Gray threw the two out. When I woke Martha for work the next morning she was still fully clothed. She was terrified the rebuffed Don Juan would return!

Julie graduated and the household split up. Martha, Charo, Fuma, Mut and I moved into a one-bedroom apartment. This time I got the living room instead of a closet. Mut's next adventure was about to begin.

I was wary of keeping Mut inside for more than a few days because I still believed that if he was penned up the bladder stones might form again. One evening I took him outside to look around. He sniffed at the bushes but made no move to run away. I stayed with him for about a half an hour, then called for him to come in. I usually gave him food when I called him and he was always ready for a bite to eat! 

The next evening I let him out for a short time but didn't stay with him. A mistake. When I called him he didn't come running. I called and called.

"He's probaly gone back to the house," Martha sensibly suggested. The house was only a few blocks away but across busy Colfax Avenue. I had visions of a squashed and lifeless Mut and took off running and calling towards the house. I was relieved not to find his body but worried because he had not turned up at the house. I walked and walked, calling and calling, but there was no answering "Mrrow?"

I visited the humane society shelter (they encouraged me to take another cat), put ads in the newspaper, had several radio stations announce that Mut was missing, all to no avail. I finally admitted to myself that Mut, like Fluffy before him, had disappeared. Good old lazy, lovable Mut. He'd caused my family and friends so much bother but I still loved and wept for him. Little did I know what he had in his absence lined up for my further edification!

TEDDY AND THE WEASEL WORDS

Theodore Roosevelt

The assassination of William McKinley in 1901 catapulted vice-president Theodore Roosevelt into the presidency. Although Van Roosevelt is an old Dutch family name that means from the field of roses, Teddy Roosevelt's seven years as president were no bed of roses (I think that phrase must refer to a bed of rose petals - a bed of made from rose plants would be worse than a bed of nails)!

One name often associated with Roosevelt is Rough Riders. This term was not coined by or for Roosevelt himself. It had been used for more than 100 year to mean a bronco buster, but was appropriate to the group of cavalry assembled from cowboys and other outdoorsmen who could ride and shoot for the U.S. Army in the Spanish-American War of 1898.

A 1902 political cartoon in The Washington Post
spawned the teddy bear name.

Teddy bears really were named after him. He refused to shoot a little bear tied to a tree and insisted that it be released. The newspapers got hold of the story and the cartoon on the left entitled "Drawing the line in Mississippi" was reprinted in hundreds of publications about the incident. Toy makers, just as opportunistic then as businesses are today, produced the endearing teddy bear.

Another phrase attributed to Roosevelt is "weasel words". The term probably didn't originate with him, but he certainly used the phrase a lot. It means words that weaken the effectiveness of another word or expression. Roosevelt used the expression in a 1916 speech urging action by the Wilson administration toward Germany for their seizures of American merchant ships. He said that the rhetoric from the State Department was filled with weasel words. "When a weasel sucks eggs the meat is sucked out of the egg. If you use a 'weasel word' after another there is nothing left of the other." The idea of a weasel sucking eggs appears in Shakespeare's Henry V (" The weasel Scot comes sneaking and so sucks the princely egg.") and As You Like It ("I can suck melancholy out of a song as a weasel sucks eggs.") Weasels probably do eat birds' eggs but they probably don't suck them out, rather bite a hole and lick them out.

Although use of weasel words is a specialty of politicians we have all probably tried to weasel out of something. This expression is related to the weasel's phenomenal ability to escape from tight places. Those of you who have owned the weasel's cousin, a ferret, as a pet have probably experienced this. The weasel has a slim, muscular body and narrow, elongated skull. That and its tenacity and fierce temper make such exits possible.

Weasels and other predators are often assigned dubious characteristics by humans. Humans, the most predatory of all, like to call other predators evil. We need to realize evil has to do with intent, not dinner. In earlier times a deceptive young woman was called a weasel and a weasel symbolized supernatural evil (sharing that symbolism with black cats).

Two species of weasel are found in Colorado. Both the long-tailed weasel and its smaller, less-common cousin the short-tailed weasel turn from brown in the summer to white in the winter except for a black-tipped tail. Hawks and owls (major predators of weasels) are sometimes fooled into striking at the bobbing black tail instead of the body.

The word "weasel" is probably related to the Sanskrit word "visra" which means musty-smelling. Weasels are members of the family Mustelidae. The whole family is pretty smelly, especially skunks. The origin of the word mustela which is Latin for weasel is probably mus (mouse, not a word for smelly), and means it catches mice, which it does. The word weasel can be traced from the Old English wesole or wesole through the Middle English wesele to our weasel.

All around the cobbler's bench

The monkey chased the weasel.

The monkey thought it all in fun.

Pop goes the weasel!

Many variations of this nursery rhyme exist with the only constant being "Pop goes the weasel". Likewise there are many explanations for the origin of this rhyme. I have two favorites for the weasel involved. One concerns a spinner's weasel. It is a large spoked wheel on which yarn is wound after spinning. After 80 yards has been wound the wooden gears inside make a popping sound so the spinner knows it is time to cut off the yarn and tie it into a skein. The other also concerns the garment industry. An iron formerly used by tailors was called a tailor's weasel that was heated on a wood-burning stove. The tailor would spit on it and listen for a pop which would indicate the temperature was right for ironing. Why were they called weasels? One explanation I read was "weasel" was a corruption of "weevil" (a snouted little bug), but that makes no more sense than weasel! It'll just have to remain a mystery!

The descent of a modern word or phrase from an animal origin is often obscure. It is sometimes unflattering but always should prove interesting. I welcome any questions or suggestions!

MOUNTAIN LION LADY: Chapter 2 (second half)

Small Cats (2)

After graduating from high school I went to a college in the Midwest. When I was allowed to live off campus my senior year I became owned by another cat. Names were still important to me and I liked to play with words. My new kitten was a Maine Coon-type long-haired tabby. He was big and easy going so I named him Mut which had all sorts of meanings rolled into one. Moot means debatable, the German "mut" means courage (and he was definitely of debatable courage!), and the symbol of the ancient Egyptian creator goddess Mut was a cat.

My roommate Susan chose the name Charles for Mut's brother. We lived in a dilapidated old house that was a challenge and a delight! I was a biology major and she was an English major and we had differing opinions about what should be allowed and what should not.

"Charles, off the coffee table!"

"Mary Jean if Mut can sleep on the sofa Charles can sit on the coffee table!!"

In spite of our differences in cat-rearing I must give Susan her due. She had only mild hysterics when I inadvertently allowed a jar of cockroaches to be released on our front porch.

My boyfriend Gray and I had just constructed a lovely 4'x6' terrarium on our screened-in porch for my mud turtle and two box turtles. The next day I rode with some other students to the university in Madison. I had made arrangements to pick up a colony of huge three-inch South American cockroaches for a neurophysiology project. They were housed on a cardboard structure inside a battery jar covered with cheesecloth - eggs, juveniles and adults. The cheesecloth was held in place with a large rubber band. I balanced the jar on my lap the whole way back, which was fortunate because we were delayed by a little accident. No one was hurt and neither car sustained any damage but we didn't get back to campus until after the science building had closed. Woe is me, I had to take the cockroaches home with me.

Mut and me in front of our house

The sharp-eyed neighbor boys saw me arrive carefully carrying my mysterious jar.

"Whatcha got there Mary Jean?" asked Louie, the eldest.

I explained my project to them and a bit about cockroaches. I said sternly that they could look at them but were under no circumstances to touch the jar or the cheesecloth top.

Two of the boys understood but Timmy, the weasel-faced youngest one, waited until everyone had gone before he lifted the cheesecloth for a better look.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder but no stretch of the imagination can make a cockroach look anything but creepy. These were so big that each ugly bristle on their legs stood out. The only graceful part of a cockroach is their waving antennae. Unfortunately they are as quick as they are ugly. Probably one scuttled out and maybe even touched him as Timmy peeked under the cheesecloth. He knew he'd made a mess of things and ran away.

I stepped out on the porch an hour later to check on the cockroaches. I was dumbfounded! There were cockroaches all over! Big ones, little ones, medium-sized ones all skittering flagrantly around! Never before or since have I screamed in such fury! Susan dashed out to see what was wrong then quickly went back inside. Gray who had eaten supper with us helped me grab the biggest cockroaches which I needed for my project. We stuffed them back into the jar. The smaller ones we just tried to squish. They had taken over my beautiful terrarium although the turtles didn't notice. After we cleared the area of all the obvious cockroaches we put the turtles in a box in the backyard and dismantled the terrarium. I sprayed all of the crevices of the porch with insecticide. The next time I saw the neighbor boys I had calmed down somewhat. Louie explained it had been Timmy but I told them none of them were ever welcome to come into our yard again.

Two years later I was in town again and drove by the house. The current resident was out watering the front garden so I stopped to chat a bit.

"When we lived here we had a bit of a cockroach problem. Have any ever bothered you?" She assured me they hadn't so I didn't think it was necessary to explain what had happened. Sometimes ignorance is indeed bliss!

Mut and Charles were well-behaved cats. They knew what the litter box was for and used it. In fact they were so well-trained that the first day we let them venture outside they dashed inside when they had to use it! Pretty soon they realized the great outdoors had lots of suitable places.

They initially had a problem remembering where the litter box was when we shifted its location from under the kitchen table to the basement. We recognized the searching behavior for what it was and directed the anxious cat to the proper spot. They learned pretty quickly and we learned pretty quickly to leave access to the basement available!

Susan and Charles left before our senior year was over and Elaine moved in. She wasn't a biology major either but she was tolerant of both Mut and me. Mut was huge, sweet-tempered and lazy. One of his favorite games was fetching a ball of aluminum foil. If I accidentally get a piece of aluminum foil in my mouth it is uncomfortable (because of my fillings?), but it didn't seem to bother him. He rarely tired of the game and would bring it back time and time again.

One pet Elaine wouldn't allow in the house was a beautiful tarantula I brought back from Missouri in the spring. The spider had soft, cinnamon-colored fur and was quite timid. I reluctantly gave her to the biology department.

Elaine was a bit more tolerant of my fiddler crabs. They were kind of cute, waving a claw and swaggering around like tiny Irish prizefighters. I was listening and observing the diurnal behavior of the small crustaceans so they had to be kept in the dark all night. The only place in our house completely away from the street lights was the bathroom. They resided in a clear plastic box on the back of the toilet. I taped the light switch so it wouldn't accidentally be turned on and we endured a week of skritching and scratching noises behind us whenever we used the toilet at night. Elaine and I were both glad when I had enough data!