Friday, September 25, 2009


Pets. There are lessons to be learned. By parents as well as children.

I will be the first to admit that I hate rodents. Wild or tame. Living on the farm, we constantly battled the long-tailed beasts. Then my son asks for a hamster. Cute little fuzzy RODENT! I'd like to admit that I came to love the little critter, but that is not going to happen. My son, loved and took very good care of "CHRN (Can't Remember His Name)".

I was in charge of buying wood chips for the borttom of the cage. However, on one occassion (and it only takes one), we were out of chips. Of course, I forgot to check that little point before I cleaned the cage. So, I did the next best thing....kitty litter. Now in case this happens to you, keep the following in mind: kitty litter is not the way to go.

Soon after cage cleaning my son came running into the house yelling that "CRHN" was acting strangely. Oh, yes, indeed. Had he a top hat and cane we might have made some money off that smiling, dancing chap. But, lo, I was once more beaconed to the little habitat. "CHRN" was flat on his back, stiff as a board and smiling like a Cheshire cat. He had gone from stoned to stone cold in a matter of minutes. He was a rodent, but still... The sobs of my son ripped out my murderous heart.

A quiet ceremony was held over "CRHN's" small shoebox coffin. The box was buried with the same dignity given to any family member under 5" long.

To make matters worse, the next morning my son found the box dug up and "CRHN's" little dead body gone. It's not hard to convince a small child that God actually dug up the box and took "CRHN" to a better place. But little boys do grow to ask questions.

Argh! I hope I don't need to tell him what happened to the goldfish.

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