Sandy and I have, what you might call, pet backgrounds. Specifically, dogs. I love dogs probably more than Sandy. I mean… more than Sandy loves dogs. *cheesh* Talk about your freudian slips!
We’ve talked about different breeds. I am committed to Keeshonden. Sandy loves Lhasas. This difference in canine preferences had the look of an evil cloud in our lives. But a dog, either a Lhasa or a Keeshond, at this time just isn’t in the cards. And, after all, we do get to visit with our four-legged “grandchildren”. Still… there was something missing.
We finally agreed that we wanted something more than a goldfish; but less than a dog.
In August I was browsing the pages of The New Yorker when an advert caught my eye… one of those tiny little ads with just a small graphic, a name, and address and a phone number: The Litchfield Dinosaur Egg Farm, Goshen, CT.
Cool. Labor Day weekend we went up to Goshen to take in their Fair, stopped into Nodine’s Smokehouse and laid in a supply of bangers, and then went over to check out the “egg farm.” Let me assure you… not your typical egg farm!!
First, we had to fill out a ten page questionnaire. I think it’s easier to gain an audience with the Pope! Why we passed muster when I saw that four other couples were turned away, I can’t tell you. But we happily put on hospital scrubs and were escorted into the nursery. State of the art as they say…
At this point I had a distinct advantage. Sandy may know dogs… but she knows gornisht about dinosaurs. I saw a clutch of Triceratops eggs. My favorite dinosaur!! But talk about impractical! If a Golden Retriever (Sandy’s other preference) would be too big for our home… what about an adult Triceratops, the size of a school bus! Keeping it fed? Cleaning up after it did a number 2?
Sure I wanted one! Who wouldn’t? I could see myself training it to take out the State Police radar traps on I-84! But let’s get real.
After an hour plus of looking, we finally selected a Compsognathus, and brought our egg home with incubating soil that was engineered to replicate the conditions of the Late Jurassic Period. The soil cost us more than the egg!
We chose a Compsognathus because adults get no bigger than a wild turkey, their diet consists of small rodents, lizards or tuberous plants, they have a cute coat that looks like feathered scales, they don’t make a lot of noise… AND, this cinched the deal, they are easy to house break. This latter detail, Sandy pointed out, put the Compsognathus ahead of me!
OK, OK… forgive me if I can’t contain my excitement… but on Sunday, November 8, after months of incubation at the farm and our home, Sheila cracked thru her thick shell!
The secret is out! Sandy and I are the proud parents of a precious Compy girl!
The folks at the egg farm tell me that I can begin leash training Sheila after the New Year.
Oh my… they do grow up fast don’t they? Our Vet said that our girl should top out at 6 lbs and a little less than 3 feet long. Much of her length is contained in her tail which we have been told will play havoc with anything on our coffee table in the den.
For now she is content sleeping and scarfing down bangers from Nodine’s. But come the Spring a rodent won’t be safe on Woodbury Hill!
Something else to report… the folks over at the farm warned us that one is never enough! Can you imagine it? Next year Jimbo happily strolling the grounds as his pack of Compy’s flushes out small prey, and, at his direction, tear into the calves of folks who hog the guest parking spots at Woodbury Hill. Oh, YES!!
To be continued…
