My Pet Rock! It Left Me!

What will I do now?

by Lura Langenback


Obviously, this will date me because I have not heard about those weird things called 'pet rocks' for years. It was a craze, crazzzEE might be a better word. At Christmas one year I actually GOT a pet rock. It had instructions not to bother it since the thing was, in reality, from another place (translate that 'planet') and wanted to observe. The idea that this creature? could be watching me snore or worse, was not palatable at all. But I did not wish to hurt the feelings of my next door neighbor who had been so gracious to gift me with it on Yuleday. I suspect now that he merely wanted to get rid of it from his garden and thought I would be fool enough to save the thing. Well, that's what happened. He and his wife were friends, after all, and subject to hurt feelings if I should be so ungrateful as to toss the weird object out on it', so to speak.

You have to get an idea of what this thing was like. First, it weighed in at about 25 pounds, not a small version of that species. Second, there was this kind of personality that it (she? he?) brought with it. You get the feeling if it wanted to, it could rule the world, taking the place of some wellknown politician without notice.

Pet rock lived with me for the larger part of my single life, at least in the one town. He (she?) observed and, from time to time, left comments for me in various places around the house concerning my housekeeping, the dog, my television selections and several other items I'd rather not mention here. It was my contention that the same neighbor was actually the culprit in the note department since I had not once noticed that rock walking anywhere. It (he? she?) stayed in the same position on top of the television, never moving muscle.

I didn't get around to naming the thing although it seemed to have an unpronounceable one on it's salutations card. It more or less looked something like ' Tyrannosaurus Rock ' or some such idiotic thing. Somehow, giving a name to a rock seemed somewhat silly, not to mention downright disturbing. It never occurred to me that the idea of actually KEEPING the thing could also be looked upon as 'disturbing'.

Did I tell you that she (he? it?) had a face? Well, that could have launched more than a thousand ships. It (she/he?) had sort of a smiley thing with a slightly wicked turn in the eyes. One never knew just what it was thinking.....uh....if it, indeed, could think, that is. After a while, it became more or less part of our small family, staying in place, watching out for the dwelling it lived in, our house. At least, I think that's what it was doing. Sometimes I suspected a foray into other areas of the house after we had gone to bed, but that could be my imagination. There were those occurrences of missing remotes and other things that have gone to heaven knows where. However, in all the time it...uh.....lived with us, it's (his? her?) nocturnal habits were totally unknown to me.

At some point, I began to wonder what on earth it ate and other seemingly necessary facts of life. Catching myself thinking about that rock more and more, 'disturbing' was no longer the word. It became an obsession to see it move, breathe, think with caption balloons, ANYTHING! Finally, a friend of mine came to the house and saw my shrine....uh, that is to visitor. She looked at me in absolute amazement and said, 'are you nuts, woman? That's a ROCK!!' Suddenly, the blinders came off. It was a ROCK, for God's sake. What was I thinking????