My New Friend, Tex

I started writing this blog because of my mom.  For years she has been encouraging me to write down the stories that I tell her.  So, when Mom read my first entry, she was informed that our family (namely her) is rather eccentric.  Although the rest of us were quite aware, this was, apparently, news to Mom.  She (and even my sister) like to think that everyone else is "different," and we're the normal ones.  So, I'll let them keep thinking that.  And lucky for me, eccentricity yields many blog topics.

Growing up we always had lots of pets.  My mom worked in an animal clinic for a time and we were always the family that took in stray (or dumped) cats from the neighborhood or public park.  Although we mostly kept to cats and dogs as pets, we are animal lovers through and through.

When my parents left the small town where I grew up, they moved to a house out in the country with a few acres of woods and a couple of streams.  Except for the deafening sounds of nature (birds, bugs and other wildlife,) it gets pretty quiet out at their new home.  So, one summer evening as they were sitting out on the deck, they heard the loud croaks of a bullfrog down in the creek closeby.  After hearing the familiar croaks from this frog a few more times, they decided to make a "pet" (one they only heard, but never saw) out of "Rusty."  I thought they were nuts. 

For months Rusty visited every evening, "calling out" as if to say hello and let my amused parents know that he was still out there.  One tragic day, a big storm passed through, the creek and yard were flooded and poor Rusty was never heard from again.  However, this summer, my parents' pool mysteriously filled with hundreds (if not thousands) of tiny tadpoles.  Mom and Dad like to think that Rusty's legacy is living on through the gobs of nasty, slimy, pre-historic-looking creatures (that's my opinion. My parents think they are cute.) he left behind.

A few weeks ago, after moving into a new part of the neighborhood and now parking on the street under low-hanging trees, I noticed an elaborate spider web strung from my car's sideview mirror.  While taking a closer look at "nature's artwork" on the side of my car, a small but stout, brown spider crawled out from the corner of the mirror.  Although I appreciated his beauty and friendliness, I quickly rolled up my window so as not to get too close to the icky thing.  The next day and for many days after, each time I went outside, the early morning sun shone on another beautiful web on the side of my car.  Also, that same brown spider came out of the mirror to give me a brief "howdy do."  I named him "Tex."  For weeks, Tex has greeted me every morning as if to say, with a tip of his hat, "Ma'am..."  I even find myself driving well below the speed limit (even when running late to work) so as not to blow Tex away.  He frequently rides along with me hanging on for his dear life to just one impossibly thin thread of his web.  I always apologize to him (outloud, of course, otherwise how would he hear it?) for the thrill ride he just received.

So, summer will soon be coming to an end, and with it, so will the "circle of life" for dear Tex.  As Charlotte had to say goodbye to Wilbur, Tex will soon be saying farewell to me.  I realize that he cannot be with me forever, and I will one day have to ride to work alone.  And when that day comes, I will miss the little guy for all the times we've shared.

Tex has made me realize so many things, the most obvious of which is that I am just as "nutso-buttso" (my mom's term) as my parents.  And if being eccentric brings a little more appreciation (for friends like Tex) and humor to my day, I'll take it.