I am tired. This isn’t even a
‘hey I’ve stayed up too late tired,’ either. This is exhaustion. I
came to the realization that I been running on pure enthusiasm and positive
energy. That’s great and all, but it can wear a fella down.
So, to recap our story to date: our
ceiling became our floor. Again. This is entering shenanigans
land. I posited a theory months ago after Rae suggested that there was a
karmic reason we kept having flooding issues. I mean, other than karma
getting back at me for how much of a smartass I am.
There are a lot of protective
properties about water. It’s a soothing element. It’s
conductive. I was raised around it. Could be anything, but I do
agree, in that I always feel like there’s a reason this keeps happening - especially
as it always seems to precede some larger catastrophe.
The past few have taught me a great
deal in anger management. I’ve also learned how to use my people skills
for diffusion and problem solving. Of course, trying to get people to
like you enough to their own damn jobs in a timely fashion does go faster when you don’t keep reminding them it’s their fault
this problem keeps occurring in the first place.
Today’s larger catastrophe was the
loss of our pet mouse, Rapid Dave. Rae got the idea for his name from a
Family Guy episode. Peter is trying to purge his home of anything that is
not American made, so he creates his own Speedy Gonzalez cartoons for Stewie.
When we brought Dave home, he earned
his name. He did nothing slow or cautiously. For being such a small
creature, he moved like an electric charge with legs. He’d run on his
wheel for hours – literally five or more hours at a time. He had a little
mousey igloo, and he would burrow tunnels through the bedding, building up
little piles of fluff inside. I gave him hay as well, which he would
weave into the fluff balls as if he were piping support beams through a
house. If you came near his cage, he would always pop right out to meet
you, expecting some kind of treat.
He was so damn soft, too. It
seemed as if you could never feel his fur, but the way the air around your
fingers was being subtly interrupted. He would wrap his tail around your
finger and peep between each, barely a blur, waiting for a chance to make a run
up the length of your arm.
I’m not going to write about the times
in his life that would make me sad. He brought a lot of joy into my life,
and if I can’t share even a sliver of that, it would be a disgrace to the
memory of the time we had with him. He was a bonkers little critter, and
one that loved both his mama and I greatly (a rare occurrence in this
house).
I can only hope he loved the time with
us as much as we did with him. Judging by how he used to bop around his
cage looking for either one of us, I can sit here smiling contentedly.
Pat was just talking to me yesterday about how he couldn't wait to visit you guys again so he could hang out with Rapid Dave... I'm sad for your loss. Poor little fuzzball. <3
ReplyDelete