Monsieur Phillipe

Before I start, I would like to please ask that you refrain from passing judgment on my pet parenting, or lack thereof. I assure you that my love for my animals far exceeds my occasional bouts of sloth. You may or may not know that in addition to our two swanky black felines Lola and Sophia, there is also little gentleman who resides in our house (trying to help Ryan maintain the testosterone/estrogen balance). He goes by the name of Monsieur Phillipe. Our little Frenchman was originally brought home as a birthday present to Ryan from myself (read: I wanted a fish). I was walking through AC Moore and saw this great idea of using a big vase, adding rocks, and tying some ribbon or cord around the neck of the vase. I chose a nice thin red velvet ribbon for embellishment, mainly because it matched our dining room. Then I went over to the pet store and voila! There was my handsome little guy, who just happened to match the ribbon perfectly. Monsieur Phillipe has been with us for almost three years now, and he's been an absolute delight. He's playful yet elegant, simplistic but still intelligent, and perhaps most importantly, he oozes masculinity despite his petite stature and flowing red locks. Here's a couple of close-up shots of the dude.

Oui, je suis tout à fait beau!
Translation: Yes, I am quite handsome!


Tomber dans la tentation de coucher mes yeux, mon amour.
Translation: Fall into the lure of my bedroom eyes, my love.

I typically clean Phillipe's bowl about once a month, or longer (much longer) if it doesn't look too bad. To be honest, it's really a stressful experience for all involved. I'm so worried to smush him with the pretty rocks or drop him into the garbage disposal! For the first year or so, Emily had to come assist me with the process, but I've now assumed the task myself and I have it down to a science. Last Friday I realized with a bit of dismay that although I feed him every morning and greet him several times a day with the tip of my finger against his bowl, I had somehow found a way to turn a blind eye to the disgusting state of his abode. POOR Monsieur Phillipe! If I were to be defensive and place blame, I may accuse Monsieur Phillipe of dirtying his bowl on purpose (Finding Nemo style) in an effort to get my attention. However, I know this is not the case. It was a simple matter of neglect. Although it pains me to show you this, I feel I need to share the dire situation in which I placed my dear Monsieur Phillipe, if only to prevent this from happening again by shaming myself. Brace yourself, it ain't pretty.

Bonjour? Vous ne voyez pas cette MERDE j'ai affaire?
Translation: Hello? Can you not see this CRAP I'm dealing with?!?!

Ugh. Je tourne le dos à vous.
Translation: Ugh. I turn my back to you.

Once I recovered from the shock of the moldy, grimy mess that had become Monsieur Phillipe's bowl, I quickly got down to business and remedied the situation. I even took it one step further and helped Monsieur Phillipe decorate his home for fall.

Ahhh. Tant mieux. Je respire!
Translation: Ahhh. Much better. I can breathe again!