Sep 26 2006
My Pet Rock
As a child, I had a pet rock. My family was too poor to buy me one.
“We don’t have the room.”
“Rocks are too noisy.”
“Maybe when you’re a little older.”
I was allergic to anything with fur. Except rodents. Maybe it’s due to their size - they can’t generate enough dander. Never tried being around a very large rodent, though. I might be allergic to a capybara.
Uh, where am I? Oh…off on a tangent.
Anyway, I managed to get a pet rock. On a field trip to the beach, I snatched one up while no one was looking.
I told my parents it followed me home.
Rocks don’t have genders. I named my rock Fluffy and thought of it as a “he”.
I wanted to take really good care of Fluffy so I went to the library to learn more about rocks.
Rocks don’t have families as we think of them. Rocks have aggregations.
Fluffy was very quiet, a flat piece of Serpentine with some white veins.
He was very good at keeping the papers on my desk from blowing away.
I rubbed him so much, he had a shiny spot on one side.
Then I thought of the quote by Richard Bach: “If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they’re yours; if they don’t they never were.”
I took Fluffy back to the beach where I had found him. As much as I cared for Fluffy, I knew he had to return to his aggregation.
Fluffy was very beautiful - he fit in my small palm quite nicely, smooth and cool.
I put him on the gravelly ocean shore and he didn’t move. I nudged him with my shoe and he wouldn’t take the hint.
Finally, I hefted him in my hand and skipped him on the gentle wake of the ocean.
He skipped thrice..and was gone.
He never returned.