A Death in the Family
My children experienced their first taste of death today. Thankfully, they were somewhat prepared for it. Summer (our pet rat) had seemed poorly for the last week or two and yesterday her activity level dropped considerably. We told the kids we didn't think she'd last past the night. Noah woke up at 4:30 this morning and checked on her... by his report, she was still breathing. I didn't think to check her until I got back from taking Emily to school at 8. She was gone. Of all the kids, Noah took it the hardest. He talks a good game, but he has a sensitive heart.
We waited for Brian to come home in the afternoon and he and the kids took her to a quiet spot and buried her. I would have gone, but then I would have felt like I should have sung a funeral song for her and I wasn't sure what an appropriate one would have been: When All of God's Ratties Get Home, Precious Ratties, Cheese Perfect Cheese, Precious Lord Take My Paw....?
Anyhow, that's life here. Looking forward to hump day tomorrow. I've had a tough time getting back into the swing of things after that week off, but tomorrow is a new day and we *will* get back on track!
4 comments:
I was aboaut 6 when our first pet died. My daddy cried when he buried Toby, the Boston Terrier. I didn't know daddies cried.
Or that old favorite, "I Love to Tail the Story"
How about "We are Going Down the Sewer One by One."
I saw your recent comment on Preacherman's blog, and wanted to let you know how much I appreciated it. You have some very good insights!
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