We are going on vacation soon, which means I needed to find homes for all our creatures. The dog is easy. She goes to a farm/kennel owned by a former policeman who thinks that Labs are the greatest animal alive. Lots of police departments use Labs as canine officers, so he treats Jezebel as his side kick. Jez actually gets giddy when she sees the farm. Hmm. She could at least pretend to miss us.
So one creature down, four to go. The guinea pigs were easy. (I thought they’d hard.) I did point out to the family taking the gps that they’re dumb. As in poop in their igloo/house dumb.
Three down. For the hamster, I asked a family with young children. The mom was nervous. Her kids really like animals, and she was afraid that it might be too much for the hamster. I reassured her. “If the hamster dies, it’s not your fault. He’s lived way past his normal life expectancy.” He’s the Methuselah of hamsters.
Of course, that left Ralph our self-mutilating parakeet. I hate to ask anyone to watch him because, well, he’s gross to look at with his naked breast. (We still haven’t been able to break him of the habit. I wonder if it’s some kind of dementia thing because he’s long past his life expectancy too.) In any case, my mom is willing to babysit Ralph. Which proves the self-sacrificing nature of motherhood—when my mother was a girl she went to San Juan Capistrano with her family to watch the swallows. And then, one tried to nest in her hair. And they couldn’t get it out. Yep, it was a real-life version of The Birds. Except with swallows.
|This swallow looks innocent but beneath that serene face beats the heart of a frightener of children.|