Out of My Mind

Emmy was hard to return.  Although she's only been with us two weeks, she really found her place in our home.  She fit in well:  talkative, heat-seeking, and assertive about her needs.  She and I just bonded.

So returning her to the Michigan Humane Society was tough today.  I've liked most of our foster cats, but a few are special, and letting go of those is a tougher.  As my younger and I walked down to the cat rooms,  a foster employee stage whispered, "If you want them, we have great fosters for you!"  Before she elaborated I knew she had kittens, but before I could ask, she continued, "Six babies, each under a pound and about five weeks old!" 

My younger squealed with the delight only six kittens, each able to fit your hand, can bring.  What can I say?  His joy was infectious, as was the staff's pleasure that we'd care for such a brood until they recovered from their kitten cold and gained enough weight to be adoptable.  Of course they came home with us. 

On the way home, I called my older to share the news.  His jumps (audible through the phone) and yells said it all.  "You said never more than four at a time again, Mom!  And now we have SIX!!" 

He's right.  After a particularly worm-infested (read: poopy in the wrong places) set of five, I swore to keep the kitten-count under that level.  But these babies needed us.  And the five hadn't been that difficult, had they?  I'm a bit of a sucker for cats in need but much more of one for the joy of my sons, especially in dreary January.  So here they are.  Yoda, Obi, Chewie,Sam, Rosalind, and Irene.  Stuffy, sneezy, and adorable.  And I'm smiling, but perhaps I'm just out of my mind. 

Returning Feynman

The boys and I finally managed to bury our gerbil, Feynman. We had him put to sleep (yes, you can have a gerbil euthanized at the vet's) over a month ago after a large tumor on his shoulder extended through the skin. He was bouncing along fairly well with this, but when bone was visible, my older son decided to let him go. While he opted out of being in the room for the injection, he was able to say goodbye in the exam room and see him again after his death. The front desk staff commented on the peaceful nature of our family during our visit to the clinic, and while our eyes were dry, I think the statement spoke more of our spirit than our outward appearance.

So why are we just burying this little critter at a date so distant from his passing? Four inches of rain the weekend of his death made his spot in the freezer quite secure while we waited for the yard to dry. The immediacy of the situation left, to be honest. We recovered from our first non-flushable pet loss while the ground soaked up the rain.

Today's weather drew me outside for one of the last gardening hurrahs of the season. I find post-summer clean-up a bit sad and not nearly as fun as spring gardening, so neglect sometimes occurs. The boys and I planted about 50 tulip and daffodil bulbs when my mind turned to Feynman in the freezer. I asked my older son if he'd like to bury him with some of the bulbs, returning the gerbil to the earth. He heartily took to the idea, and now Feynman rests among a cluster of red tulip bulbs in our backyard flower garden. Spring blooming will hold special meaning in 2009, knowing that our friend is part of the cycle of the universe.

New Friends!

We're officially a foster family for the Michigan Humane Society! Right now, two adorable kittens, 5 weeks and 7 weeks of age, are romping around the house, delighting all of us to no end. They're with us for at least three weeks, with weight gain as top priority. Despite coming from different litters, they became fast friends and enjoy wrestling and pouncing together until they collapse into a pile of furry exhaustion, the older resting his head on the younger. We're completely won over by their so-soft fur, squeeky meows, and clumsy antics. Of course, getting any homeschooling work done is challenging -- how can anything compete with all that cuteness?