Friday, July 21, 2006
Funeral for a Friend
No, don't all start panicking and weeping, all of my friends are fine. Well, apart from the ones who are dead, and although there are a lot of them they are also likely fine and they didn't die today and whatever. Shut up.
I got home this morning to find my daughter wide awake, having claimed to have had "a little nap" overnight. I later found out that she's a lying cheating troll, and had stayed up all night, but that's beside the point and really, was I expecting the apple to fall farther from the tree than it did? If so, the only one I was deluding was myself.
So she wanted to go digging in the garden, which was fine. And then she found one of the drawbacks of living in a cottage in the wood ... a fieldmouse. Very, very deceased.
She decided to give it a decent burial and I said that was fine. She got her little shovel, and after about three minutes came back into the house at top speed and said "I just need to be alone for a minute" and rushed into her room and slammed the door.
I realized what had happened. She had seen that it was beautiful and furry and cuter than hell ... and very, very dead. And she had realized that dead was forever, and that no matter what she did to take care of it, it would still be dead.
So I went into her room and she made me leave again. Heaving with sobs, and waving me off. I kissed her on the top of the head and left, crying a bit, myself. Maybe for her, maybe I just got something in my eye, ok? Because I'm not a big softie and I wouldn't be crying for a mouse. No. Shut up (again).
She asked me to bury it for her, so I got the big shovel and went out back where the soil was softer. I dug a little hole and then put on a gardening glove because no matter how cute the mouse was I didn't want to get rabies or syphillis or deadmousulism or whatever one gets from handling dead rodents. She came out as I was carrying him to the grave, and we put him in there and covered him up and said a few nice words about how he'd be ok now (and thank goodness I didn't have to do the whole funeral thingie like I did for my brother's 400 dead fish. FSM save me from any further heart-wrenching po-side services) and then went inside and talked about how things die sometimes and it's ok and they don't mind so much as long as we take care of them properly afterwards. I think the talk was more for me than for her, 'cause she was already wondering what the folks on TV were doing.
Bah. At least it wasn't one of the deer.
Apart from that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?
So I came and sat in my studio and wound up some nice wool, which is now up on the sidebar if you're interested.
All I can say is, even though she's been asking for a bird or a hamster, I don't think we're quite ready to have pets again.
# posted by Rabbitch @ 11:31 AM 
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Since moving to the country we have seen a much larger number of dead things than when we lived in Toronto. It doesn't seem to bother the kids much but I think they try to avoid looking at and identifying road kill. I, on the otherhand, being the driver, must identify, attempt to avoid and try not to make up stories in my head about the fambly of the poor deceased critter.
I have also found that when those sweet cute mice invade your house (our last home was close to a large ravine and they like warm places in winter) you may quickly graduate from the little plastic humane traps and watching them race and beat your husband back across the street to the house, then driving them several miles to another neighbourhood park to Victor snaptraps.
Winter's coming -beware. Although maybe mice don't move indoors in BC.
I have also found that when those sweet cute mice invade your house (our last home was close to a large ravine and they like warm places in winter) you may quickly graduate from the little plastic humane traps and watching them race and beat your husband back across the street to the house, then driving them several miles to another neighbourhood park to Victor snaptraps.
Winter's coming -beware. Although maybe mice don't move indoors in BC.
# posted by 
: 2:39 PM
: 2:39 PM
I have some mighty fine Matagascar 'hissing' Cockroaches that make lovely pets. I'm lying my ass off. We got one, it was pregnant, had like a zillion babies, THEN GOT PREGNANT AGAIN and now we really have oodles. Who knew they did that? YUCK. I don't have the heart to 'raid' them or flush them, or the energy to separate every single one. But now we have quite a situation. They do make great educational pets, but enough is enough already. And my son who HAD to have one in the start, now thinks they're icky. I'm hoping for some disease that strikes them all simultanously. Any takers?
# posted by : 2:55 PM
: 2:55 PM
i got my stitchmarkers today! magnificent! now you wanna come deal with the assbeagles who insist on playing their stereo so loud i can barely hear brenda dayne?
Aw, you made me weepy. Yeah, the death thing is hard.
Frida's going to be 11 next week. I know she isn't going to be around forever, and I know when the sweet fuzzy girl goes, I'm going to feel like someone shot me. I try not to think about it.
Frida's going to be 11 next week. I know she isn't going to be around forever, and I know when the sweet fuzzy girl goes, I'm going to feel like someone shot me. I try not to think about it.
# posted by : 8:40 AM
: 8:40 AM
Sad ... but kids do get over things like this quickly and life goes on. When I was 5 years old, my dog died & I hide under a kitchen chair and cried & cried & cried.
I'm doing just fine now, thanks! I feed the birds ...
I'm doing just fine now, thanks! I feed the birds ...
my son found a bumblebee that was having trouble flying, and tried to help it. it died. he was so upset that my fiance found a pill bottle (think coffin) and helped sean bury it, with appropriate ceremony. and he's going to be 12!
Awwwww... Such a good momma. I would have picked it up with the shovel and put it in the trash. Then given a lovely talk about the cycle of life. Yeah, just another reason I have a cat. *L*
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# posted by : 10:52 AM
: 10:52 AM << Home
