Like shooting stars.

I was driving and L was talking about going to visit Grandma. This is how our conversations usually go.

L: How we get there?
me: Well, it’s pretty far away. We could drive there.
L: Okay!
me: But that would take a long time. We could fly.
L: Ma! We don’t have wings!!
me: You make a good point, sir. We’d have to take an airplane.
L: Where we find one of those?
me: The airport.
L: Oh!

It all makes sense now.


Snug and safe from harm.

Today was a day.

My ferret had seizures all morning and screamed this scream. It hurts too much to think about. After calling many vets, I finally got him in somewhere. I texted R and she was good to not come. I called S’s school and he came out to say goodbye. L fell asleep on the way there, which was good because the 15 minute cat nap was just the thing to make him L again, after a crazy morning.

Spike’s seizures never stopped. Even after they gave anti seizure meds. She found a thumb size mass in his abdomen. He was in so much pain. He was in the lifespan range. And the only kind option left was to put him down so he wouldn’t be in pain anymore.

And I did this all with a 3 year old.

I cried. Obviously. And he made his concerned face, which, to the untrained eye is a glare, but is just him processing.

After they sedated Spike and left the room (by the way, the nurse and doctor were the kindest, nicest people I have even encountered), I asked L how he was. He said, “I a little sad” and I told him it was just right to be a little sad and he said “do you want to be sad together?” and I said if we have to be sad, together is the best way to do it.

You were very loved, Spike. I’ll look out for your sister. Rest easy.