Has this ever happened to you? Our pet ate our other pet! Ack! How do you prepare for the sad face of a nine-year-old boy with this news? Um, I still don’t know. I mean, it’s sort of funny. While it’s super duper bad to my kid, I want to laugh. I hate playing it straight, when I want to cheer out loud. I’m just no good at keeping a straight face in this way.
In December, you might recall that my husband and two sons left for Petco to buy dwarf hamsters and returned with three rodents … beady-eyed-stinky mice. I figured it was a boy thing and I was outnumbered, so I did not put up a fight (but was grossed out none the less). Shadow, Frostbite and Jerry squeaked right into our lives. The kids loved to cuddle (yes, I said cuddle!) and play with them (don’t worry I make them wash their hands and arms after) … well, as much one can play with a mouse. Sara and Goldie, The Weiner Sisters, could not contain their dachshund-hound instinct and Sara’s incessant cage-side barking tempted me to feed the mice to our friend’s pet snake. But again, the kids reeealllly enjoyed their mice and I had nothing to do with mice care. Nada. Zip. This was a father-son-rodent bonding experience.
A little back story… at the park months ago, Sara caught a pocket gopher, both dogs played tug-a-war while I was freaking out. It was like witnessing a murder. I had to kick Sara (the dog to the right) in the head a couple times before she would release the dead critter. Traumatized, I had my first hands-on experience with unstoppable animal instinct. Bad memory.
That history aside, on Monday morning we awoke to Lucas announcing the Mice cage had been overturned in the garage and the three mice amigos were MIA. Two were scurrying around under cars, and were caught. But where was Shadow? It was decided that the Great Hunting Weenie would be allowed into the garage to sniff out Shadow, and then we could swoop down and put the mouse back in her cage before Sara started snacking. This grand plan went over like a lead balloon; no luck. The day went on.
Later that day, we found Shadow AFTER the Great Hunting Weenie. Sara ate Shadow. Maybe ate is not the correct word, more like chewed on Shadow like a teething ring, then dropped her on the tile floor; a sad moment for a nine year old who deeply loved the killer and the killie. He cried and when I put him to bed, he cried again.
Crying was not part of my personal Pet Eat Pet story. All I could think is one dead, two to go! Hmmm….maybe, I should let Sara hang with the mice more often. No, I wouldn’t do that. I am just thinking out loud. Toodles.
Riding a unicycle is like life. To be successful and enjoy the ride, they both require tremendous balance and focus. I sit up tall, shoulders back and imagine I am holding one of my young boys under each arm. My best-friend-techie-husband’s hand on my seat (hubba, hubba) to guide me, and my two wiener dogs running alongside, looking like double Dumbos. As I train to ride Blanche, my unicycle, in a half-marathon, I think how good God is as the breeze blows my brown hair, a big smile on my face. Come along for a thrilling one-wheel ride while I do my best to maintain balance... but keep an open mind, there is always something new to learn!