So, if you read my first entry, you most likely know that I had been advised to get a pet of some kind so that I don’t feel lonely.
But given the type of creature I am, I never feel lonely. In fact, I actually like being alone, without an annoying neighbor/flatmate/whoever else.
And yet the villain with a key name T.H.E.R.A.P.I.S.T. is bugging the bloody heck out of me, saying that getting a friend is going to help my emotional health and quicken the socialisation process.
So yesterday she sent me an e-mail asking whether I prefer dogs or cats, and I said I’d very much rather get a snake. And guess what? The strange lady came to my flat right after I came back from school and brought me a box, and said I shouldn’t open it just yet. She and some guy then brought a tank with fake plants and an oak log. It was about 40 gallons. I knew she was up to something.
And then she said I should open the box.
I decided to examine it first. It was a wooden crate with five holes on each side. It was tied with a black ribbon, like a gift.
I, being me, tore off the ribbon with my teeth and lifted a lid. A worm-like creature with scaly brown and black skin lifted its head and sliced the air with its forked tongue.
It was, of course, a snake.
T.H.E.R.A.P.I.S.T. backed off while I examined the creature.
“A lady I know was giving him away,” she said, “I thought you might like him.”
“His name is Cookie,” she said, an expression of concern on her face.
“That’s a dumb name,” I replied, “Such amazing creature deserves a better one.”
She just shrugged and said it was my new pet and I could name him anything I wanted.
I named him Peeve.
T.H.E.R.A.P.I.S.T. helped me put Peeve’s tank on the dresser. He curled into a ball and didn’t move. I think he fell asleep.
I think she was trying to find a compromise. I got a pet that won’t bother me.
I got an e-mail from her just now. She says she found me a flatmate. We meet tomorrow.