There is, however, more sad news. After Gerbil died, I cleaned out the mouse cage and put Squeaky back in there with a paper towel for her to shred to keep her busy. She spent the next two days just kinda sitting on top of the paper towel and not inside her little hut, which was unusual. Squeaky and Gerbil used to curl up together inside their house all day long. It was strange to see Squeaky out of her house so much. Today, we woke up to blood on the paper towel. Evidently her skin condition was not controlled as well as I had thought.
We decided that it was her time and that to keep her alive with skin that probably really hurt was cruel.
Naturally, I’d recently bought four pounds of mouse food.
I took one last trip down to the vet office. Squeaky, you will be missed. We loved you.
After I brought her little body home, Alex buried her next to Gerbil. Instead of using a spoon this time, he pulled out a pick ax. That Alex is (a) strange, and (b) has evidently never seen a shovel.
So now, instead of five little friends running around in their cage next to my desk, they are buried under our butterfly bush. Even Algernon had to pay his respects.
Goodbye, mice. You were good pets and fun to have. I just wish you lived longer.
Things have been a little grim here of late, so I’m going to give you this palate cleanser from Sam’s last soccer game of the season. I don’t have any actual photos of the game, but I do have this photo of Sam after he got his year-end trophy.
Sorry for the weird crop on that photo. I had to eliminate the kid standing behind him and opening Photoshop to do so seemed far too onerous.
I do also have this photo that I took a few weeks ago when Sam was goofing around on the sidelines. It pleases me for many reasons.
In other news, here is what I am facing down over the next few months:
Now I’m going to go stare at my television set for a few hours, because I’m pretty sure that doing that helps with the
dysthymia ennui. That and eating my feelings. I might do both.