District 5: Aithne Pilgrim
Mar 29, 2018 5:38:04 GMT -5
Post by Sockie on Mar 29, 2018 5:38:04 GMT -5
Aithne Pilgrim
DISTRICT 5
My family has, for a long time, existed in two parts. My parents are not divorced, but they have slept on opposite sides of the house for as long as I can remember. It's been years since I last saw them interact. Much of this, I assume, is because my father refuses to fund her spendy habits, and she refuses to admit her "allergies" are made up because of her dislike for animals. My question there is, why did you marry a cat breeder if you are allergic to cats? As for myself, I always preferred rabbits growing up, but at the time the money was in fancy designer cats. Fashion changes, but my father was always ahead of the game, and seemed to know what was going to get popular before it ever did. He became a very successful breeder - for a district resident - and from what I understand held a small name for himself under one of the capital's main branches. Never as "Oliver Pilgrim," of course, not publicly. The company manager would know his name but everyone else would know his cats as "Purrfect Pussies." Having money kept food - good food - on our table, but my father was extremely devoted to the business. He funneled most of the income straight back into it for research equipment, expensive access to the capital's research papers and business trends, new chemical trials, anything, really. He was the crazy cat man of my and my siblings' childhood, but we loved it. Sometimes things went a little awry, but in those cases... they were put to sleep quietly. As I got older, my father expanded to more exotic animals than cats. He did dogs for a short while, but found that foxes sold more quickly and switched to making foxes his second most successful export. Eventually, the profit margin was enough for him to invest in a large-scale breeding facility in a less dense area of District 5. He hired workers, and Purrfect Pussies sent over a capital representative to oversee management. They expanded to iguanas, flying squirrels, capybaras, and a short-lived string of beta fish. All chasing what they anticipated to be the capital trend. The issue started when my father's business model became too profitable. I suppose he was at a risk of becoming too powerful, too influential. Still no one in the capital knew who the genius was behind the sparkling squirrels, it was all under a company name, but Purrfect Pussies needed to make sure he never got too cocky. My father was turned into an employee of his own business, and now he sees no profit increase, only a monthly salary. When I was eleven years old my father helped me begin my own mini-business, just as he had done for my older brother and sister. I insisted upon rabbits, but my father said it would be too long before they became popular again. My brother was breeding ferrets, my sister parakeets, and I ended up with two very boring hedgehogs. They never did anything. They are all very shy and quiet creatures, and difficult to smoosh into new hedgehogs. My father was absolutely certain about one thing, though, that if I bred hedgehogs they would go straight into style once I turned eighteen. That never happened. I spent about five years on hedgehogs before I finally sold most of them to classmates at school. Yes, for a while, hedgehogs became the new Pet To Have in our little area of District 5, but it was a temporary rush before I realised I had a bunch of cash and not that many hedgehogs. My father was disappointed, of course, in my lack of trust for his business sense. He took to snubbing me, quite immaturely, and at that point I contacted my sister and asked her to help me move out. And so, at sixteen, I moved in with her and her boyfriend, bought back three of my hedgehogs, and started working on building up my own business. Once I turned 18 I spoke to my father about making amends, which he was glad to do. He saw my hedgehog business had lost a lot of its momentum and offered to set me up in a part-house part-shop little cubby of a corner right outside the square. There were conditions, of course. I had to keep seven or eight of his "boring" cats in the window (basically, the ones no capitolite would want), I had to give my brother a space for his ferrets, and I had to let my father check the finances regularly. The only profit I would keep for myself would be off of hedgehogs and pet products, but the idea of having my own store and my own place to live at 18 was enough to make me agree. The store has done fairly well. Once in a while I sell a cat or a ferret, and much more rarely I sell a hedgehog, but mostly I make decent living wage just selling food and little feather toys. After 5 pm I can close shop and relax in the back with my little buddies Pumpkin and Poppins. As for the future, my brother has been talking about quitting the ferret business and focusing on oil, but I think it's too crowded for that here. My father will never quit the breeding business, I know that for sure. I only hope he isn't taken advantage of any further. |
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