Pets and more pets (and then there were two)
A couple of weeks ago, we went to a Fall Festival at my son’s school, where he won two goldfish at one of the booths. Suffice it to say, we’ve had enough fish adventures (or, actually, enough pet adventures in general) for my taste and I wasn’t exactly happy.
The fish have since died (does it make me a bad mom to say I’m not really sorry about the loss?) and we are back to just Bailey and Charlie, but the whole episode with the fish reminded me of our pets from the past…
so I had to share this little adventure we had with my daughter’s mouse Blackberry again. Have a great Monday, everyone. And stay away from those mice! :)
*originally posted in 2009
Considering a mouse for a pet?
It’s the mice again. And they weren’t in the dollhouse this time. They were in the house. The real house.
A few mornings ago, I heard my daughter shout from down the hall, “Mom! Blackberry’s gone!”
“She can’t be gone,” I said, hoping like anything I was right.
But when I checked the cage, only one of the mice was in there. The door was cracked open and Blackberry was gone.
Somewhere in our house.
My mind raced…
What if she’s been running around all night? What if we don’t find her and she dies, and then we DO find her? Or what if she finds her way into the walls and we can’t get her out?
I flew into action. “Hurry! Search your rooms. Look in the closets and under the beds. This is serious!”
We ran from room to room, my daughter on the verge of tears the whole time. “What are we going to do if she’s gone, Mommy? My POOR Blackberry!…”
Okay. I’ve said it before. I’ve grown sort of attached to the pet mice. But the thought of having one running around our house who-knows-where for who-knows-how-long gave me the willies. So when I went into the laundry room and saw wood shavings (chewed off from the bottom edge of the door) all over the floor, I was relieved.
I didn’t care (at the time) that the door looked terrible. What mattered was we had found the mouse. Or, by the looks of the laundry room, where she’d been all night.
We searched under the washer and dryer. And behind the door. And then I eyed the basket of laundry—the CLEAN laundry waiting to be folded.
“I bet she’s in there,” I said.
And sure enough, after lifting a few things out…
“Oh, Blackberry!” my daughter laughed. “You’re sooo cute! And sooo smart!” She picked her mouse up and smiled. “Isn’t she smart, Mommy?”
Well. That’s not the word I would’ve chosen right then.
But I was glad my daughter was happy. And I was even more glad to be able to put her mouse back in the cage, and lock the door.
So now I have a word of advice for anyone considering getting a mouse as a pet.
They’re (sort of) cute. And tiny. But they sure can lead to some big adventures. :)
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