Hey little sister, I wrote about our pets like you wanted me to do!

Oh goodness, do you ever go back and read something you've written and then think, "why didn't I proofread that?" Or "why did I write that for people to read in the first place?" Because I do, every single time I go back and read anything I've written on here.

Anyhow, Easter has passed us now and warm weather is upon us. It is absolutely gorgeous outside, and Alabama is enjoying the time of year that brings terrible weather but also gorgeous, sunny, not-too-hot-but-not-cold days before the blazing sauna of summer starts. I went home for Easter and spent a beautiful couple of days with my family. It was really great to see them. And also our pets.

I live in a yardless apartment and work very long hours. A pet is really out of the question until I get a place with a yard. But I grew up out in the woods, away from heavy traffic and leash laws. We had dogs that ran free and cats that climbed trees. And. I. Loved. It.

My family currently has a dog, Scarlett, and a cat, Ookie. Ookie's original name was Captain, but he had conjunctivitis when we adopted him from the shelter and had the nastiest looking eyes. We started calling him Ookie Eye and the nickname has stuck, though his eyes are healthy and clean now. Scarlett and Ookie are the best of friends and I miss having animals.

Ookie and Scarlett when Ookie was still a kitten. "Hey, Scarlett, let's play"

"AHA!"

"Now you're mine! Meow!"

Since moving here and being petless, I have had to rely on others' pets to fill the void. I've really become quite pathetic. For one thing, I'm writing in a blog about my puppy and kitty. For another, my phone has become filled with pictures of me with other folks' animals. And I wrote all of those ridiculous comments above. If I go to your house and you have an animal, I will make it my mission to make that animal think I am its best friend before leaving.

Scarlett is absolutely the craziest and sweetest dog I've ever met. She's not very obedient, and only comes when called if she feels like it. If she doesn't feel like it, she crawls across the yard like we can't see her until she gets to the woods and then she takes off.  You can't tame the wind, after all. But we know that in a few minutes she'll be back. And then she wants to snuggle in our laps, where she either gazes adoringly at our faces or immediately falls asleep. She's like a baby. Except she doesn't scream or cry. Unless it's bath time. Apparently, baths are the worst thing. Those last few sentences were so brief, it's as if Hemingway wrote them, if Hemingway were a dog person. And we all know that Hemingway was definitely a cat person.

And our cat is ridiculous, too. He's huge, and orange, and fluffy, and quite the cat. His favorite thing to do is to sleep in flowerpots, and really, who can blame him? He just moves around the porch from one flower pot to another, doing what cats do (which is sleeping, if you don't know). And the dog will walk by, wagging her hairy tail, and you'll see a paw reach up and swipe playfully at it. And then the puppy will turn around and they'll touch noses.

And then your heart melts and you think you can never be happier than you are in that moment. And then you realize how crazy you are because a million things can make you happier than that, such as seeing Christ, or getting married, or having a baby. And then you realize that you just really a need a pet because you're the crazy pet lady. And then you remember that you live in an apartment that doesn't have a yard. And then you call your friend that has a cat or a dog and will let you come over and you can pet said pet. And then everyone judges you for posting about it on a blog. And then you don't care and post it anyway.

Those 3 Grey/Gray/Greigh Strands of Hair

So I have been growing my hair long in the past few years, after several years of keeping it short during college. I have nearly achieved my goal: mermaid hair. I've never been particularly fascinated with the idea of mermaids, like some people. But mermaid hair is undeniably glorious.

But in the summer of 2013, I made a terrible, terrible discovery which shook me to the core. If you were to put your finger in the middle of my right eyebrow and travel up my scalp, you would find three grey/gray/greigh hairs growing close together. Please don't actually do that, by the way. I just couldn't be bothered with to come up with a better way to describe how to find the location of those hairs.

I could see my future. A young woman, hair color snatched from her at 23 years of age, still clinging to her dreams of mermaid hair. As she mourns the loss of hair color, she takes comfort in ice cream. As her body adjusts to living off of naught but the nutrients found in ice cream, she realizes that she needs companionship. She invests in cats. Before she knows it, she's an 80 year old woman who spent her entire life unmarried, whose only friends had been cats, and who had still not given up on mermaid hair.

At 23 years 6 months of age

At 25 years of age

At 80 years of age, which is only slightly less terrifying than the following:

Not the girl in the story, but hilarious for some reason

I mean, I'm not saying I have an amazing hair color. It's pretty regular. Just regular brown. Too light to be dark and too dark to be light. I've never dyed it, not even just a little bit. I've always been scared that something would go terribly wrong and all of my hair would fall out I wouldn't keep the color maintained and it would look bad. But when I told my mother of the discovery of my 3 grey/gray/greigh strands of hair, she gave me some advice. 

"Carolyn, you can always dye it." And just like that, my terrifyingly sad vision of my future dissipated. I might not have to become an 80 year old mermaid monster after all. If my hair betrays me, I can always trick a man into marrying me through hair dye (haha just kidding) (maybe).

As it currently stands, I have not found any more grey hairs. My hair is still its regular, boring, plain ol' brown, and I'm okay with that. And as time has passed, I have become okay with my 3 grey friends. I have no idea when it is normal to start getting grey hairs, and I'm not in any hurry to add to their number. I would prefer to keep my hair regular, boring, plain ol' brown for as long as possible. But I have accepted those 3 hairs, and haven't even attempted to pull them out in months and months. 

Daughters of the Lord, beauty is not truly found in hair color. Finding 3 grey hairs was a surprising struggle for me, and I actually have worried over them. And though I haven't found any more grey (and hopefully will not for a long while), it is just a reminder that what I take for granted in myself as a young woman is fleeting and will one day crumble into dust. Some things will not crumble into dust, however, and it is to these things which we must cling.