Too many pets, want more. (Part 2)

In between my second and third dog I've had a variety of pets. Okay, probably only two different sorts but I also liked to keep snails at the age of 5-ish too. Snails are (were) cool, even though they died all the time (probably due to starvation and a lack of oxygen caused by the sealed plastic containers I had kept them in). I went to my Nan's once and noticed an old empty fish tank, realizing that you can keep fish as pets (how cool is that!); this started my obsession for wanting fish. Mum told me to start out with goldfish, so of course I did. I wanted some cool tropical fish (like Dory and Nemo, although I don't think that movie had come out yet...) but those were expensive and she I assume was testing me to see if I could actually care for fish. It turns out I couldn't. My Aspergser's Syndrome causes me (okay possibly causes, I'm not entirely sure if this terrible sort of procrastination is even counted under something like that) the procrastination of someone who procrastinates a lot? I don't think you can even get a simile for that.

Anywho, I, being the terrible person who doesn't quite understand that starvation is the cause of fishes' death, actually procrastinated on feeding them. I would starve them because I just could not be bothered at the time and would put it off... for a couple of days later. I was terrified and traumatized by the amount of fish that just died on me. This wasn't my entire fault though. 

 My sister's friend's evil brother once committed the worst thing you can ever do to someone's pets, he actually went up to my room, spotted my fish and then noticed the cleaning chemicals, food and other crap lying around on my desk full of crap. He being like.. 5? (This is when I'm around 8 years max), decided that this would be a recipe for disaster and trouble so he opened everything and poured as much as he could down into my fish tank (with a silver and orange goldfish, Speedy and probably something like Shiny, I can only remember Speedy's name). I went upstairs to be anti-social and discovered that my fish tank seemed a little dark, and a little bit full of food, screaming I ran back down. Speedy though, must have gotten super-living powers (or he just over-ate the food from that day), because he lasted over a month, he was my longest living goldfish and never will I forget him; but as for that kid, well he was never welcomed into my house again.
I must admit, at least the fish got fed that day. I probably wouldn't have done it otherwise.

We then of course, moved on (By "we" I mean my sister and I, she finally felt that she was ready for a pet). Budgies, they were cool, pretty and looked like they would be a cool child-friendly pet. They weren't.

For anyone who has never had one, budgies are ferocious pterodactyl velociraptor birds, not even birds, they're like pretty flying small bears. Think of that, a killing machine bird that manipulates you (by it's looks, bird can't talk from what I know) into wanting to buy it and then attacks you after you feed it, clean it and house it just because it is a mini-velociraptor-pterodactyl-bear bird.

My sister had a blue budgie, it looked like every other budgie because on average all budgies are blue. She called it Dory, because Finding Nemo was cool and Dory was blue... my sister was imaginative when it came to finding similarities between fish and birds. My budgie was green, not many budgies there were green so I thought my pet was unique and special, this was only a strategy of their mini-velociraptor-pterodactyl-bear manipulative ways to kill me. I called him George, it turns out later in life that this is a name that I tend to call a lot of things, along with Mr Cuddles, Bob and It/Thing (although I also ended up calling a toy of mine Bigel after a Bengal Tiger (even though it was an orange tiger, I'm pretty sure Bengals are white) and sort of Nigel Thornberry off "The Thornberrys". 

We decided that it would be a good idea to tame them, so unlike fish (because it wouldn't have been a good idea with fish), we could hold them and welcome them as a member of the family. It turns out that this is not a good idea for birds either. I was scared of Dory, but I cannot explain my fear for George. They bit us and this was enough to make me dislike and fear going near any birds, Mum ended up being the one to "tame" these somehow-dinosaur-creatures and they both soon died after (we had kept them outside, I can't remember why). My sister though, when my budgie died, buried him without me. I would like to think that it was to save me from attacking his dead budgie corpse as revenge and that it was done out of love; but it wasn't. She was just my sister and she just buried my budgie.