Day Two Hundred Forty Nine

Laughter (and Animals) are the Best Medicine

Like many people my age, (those raised in the 50's and 60's) we took everything, including ourselves, very seriously. Our parents went through the Depression and WWII and let you know it every chance they could get.

1953
I am the baby on the far right trying to pull
my mother's hair out. She is smoking a cigarette.
My father is on the far right, looking very much like
my son. My grandfather is holding me. He is wearing
a kid's Easter hat to be silly. My cousin is the baby
wearing a red dress. She is being held by our grandmother.

Religion was serious. If you were a Catholic, you either went to Parochial school (poor thing) or had to endure Catechism classes (ditto,) where you learned how to be a great reproducing Catholic. If you so much as giggled in front of a nun - well let's just say - you never giggled in front of a nun.

School was serious. Remember the air-raid drills, where we had to hide under our desks in case the Russians dropped "the bomb."

Duck and Cover
Sure to save you if a bomb was dropped

Home was serious, for me. In mine, one was cursed with some unknown fate if one dared laugh at the supper table. There were other ridiculous superstitions that made it almost impossible to move freely through life.

Health was serious. I nearly died when I got the measles and I wasn't allowed to go to a public swimming pool for fear of contracting polio.

I learned two things from the experience: I would be a much different parent and I preferred the company of animals.

The parenting part was a bit of a challenge because, as it turns out, when someone is raised in the manner I was, it is virtually impossible to come away unscathed. Most of us, with a similar upbringing, developed severe anxiety in adulthood. That meant I was sure my kids were going to die if they so much as coughed; get kidnapped and die if they went outside unaccompanied and crash and die if they ever drove a car. I did, however, encourage laughter. Predictably, most of their laughter was directed at me... 

I actually looked just like this
for about twenty years

The animal part has carried me through life's stages. I've written about the various situations in which an animal companion brought comfort and laughs when I needed them the most. For example, I am at a place in my life when I really need laughter - so voila - I have a houseful of crazy animals. Boo! is at the top of the list. Speaking of which, she is having a particularly whacky morning.

Some say we should be relying on other humans or a higher power to get us through life's transitions and traumas. I'm inclined to think God works in whatever way we need. If people are there for you - that's a God send. If nature brings you solace - that's also a God send. For me, it's animals. I trust them and they've never let me down. Well, there was Rocky - but we don't like to talk about him...

Last night, our granddaughter called and wanted to speak to Gigi. That would be me. She was concerned because Copper was acting agitated. I told her to turn the phone so I could see and when she did, sure enough, the poor lizard was clearly upset. 

My grand put me on speaker phone and I started talking to Copper. I used my sing-songy voice - you know - the one you use to talk to babies and annoy others. I told "her" everything was going to be okay; that this was her new home and they would take good care of her. I never broke into lizard-speak like Harry Potter 's Parseltongue (thank God) but the results were the same. Copper calmed down and fell asleep.

Is that you, Gigi?

I guess I can add "lizard whisperer" to my list of life accomplishments. It's a short list, so I'll take what I can get. In my opinion, the real accomplishment was in showing my grand how to relate to other species. This is going to come in handy when she becomes a veterinarian. Just to seal the deal, I told her I'd buy her a car on graduation day. Hey, I've not gone completely other-worldly.