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We’re home and safe. Our plan to blog from the con just never materialized. Not sure why. Thanks to everyone who ran Conestoga and helped make Jon, Charles, and I, so welcome. Thanks to all the fans that came out to see us. A special thanks to the fans that said they’d come just because I’d be there, and it was their first con. I’m glad you had a good time. Conestoga was a good first con to come to. Not too large, not too small, well run, full of nice people.
We got to pet animals I’d never petted before. The charity was a wild animal rescue group, Safari?s Sanctuary, and they brought out their animals to let the guests see them. Reticulated and Burmese python, the first was a yellow albino; Fennec (small desert fox); albino baby raccoon; skunk both albino and regular; ring-tailed lemur (who helped with my audio podcast at Conestoga, you’ll know what I mean when you hear it); alligator; and wolves. Yes, I said wolves.
It was amazing to be able to interact with the animals. I was struck by the different smells of the furred animals. The reptiles had the least natural odor. I’m always wanting to know what animals smell like, for the writing, and I think writing the wereanimals has made me more aware of that oft neglected sense; smell. The alligator felt smooth and wonderful. The snakes felt cool, and clean, and smooth, and strong. I like the bigger snakes more than the small ones, actually. The wolves were amazing to touch, and the lemur, too. But, honestly, my favorite was the Fennec. With it’s huge ears and delicate triangular face, it looked like some sort of fairy creature. It’s fur was the softest of any of the other animals, silky. It also stood on the shoulders of it’s handler. I mean I’ve heard of a shoulder cat, or a shoulder bird, but a shoulder fox was new. These are all animals that were bought as pets, then, of course, the person couldn’t keep take good enough care of them, or neglected or abused them in some way. Wild animals are best left in the wild.
We got to have dinner with one of best friends, Deborah Millitello and her husband, Carl, on Friday night. Debbie and I hadn’t gotten to sit and talk in ages.
I must say that our sleep number beds at the hotel were more like insomnia numbers. One half of the bed Jon and I used deflated, the other half did not as the night wore on. Charles’s bed inflated as the night wore on so he would start at forty something and it would be eighty something by morning. I think, perhaps, sleep number beds are not meant to be used and abused in a hotel where people tend to be very hard on things. Our experience has made us not a fan of the things.