Wherein my husband tries to break my Christmas present while mending my heart.
Not a lot of you know this, but back on September 21, 2009, my grandfather passed away. I kept it to myself for several reasons, the biggest of which being that it completely devastated me. This was then followed quickly by what would have been his 92nd birthday on November 7th. All of this lead into a very sad and lonely time for me.
(This picture was taken at my mother’s house in July of 2003)
If I’m remembering correctly, just before Thanksgiving, my mom had to have her dog put down. Kia was getting pretty old, I do believe she was approaching 18 years old, and was getting cranky. Mom had taken custody of my ex-brother-in-law’s American Bulldog puppy, Lexie, and the puppy had been driving poor Kia bonkers. So, mom thought the kindest thing to do was to put Kia down. I miss that dog. A lot. I’ll never forget the morning I came out of the bathroom at my mom’s house, bleary-eyed and wiped out from a late night at work, to find my mom standing outside the door with this tiny puppy in her hand.
(This is Mischief and Kia at my mom’s house in 2004. Mischief would have been about 2)
So, needless to say, I’ve been very down these last couple months. To make matters worse, Tuesday evening I was putting together goodie bags to take to my co-workers for Christmas. While I was dividing up my cookies, checking to make sure there was enough of everything for my family baskets as well, I suddenly had a revelation. I was counting cookies and saying, “Mom, Alan, Uncle Bubba, Mike, and…”
(Mischief scooping out cookies for Mama)
And that’s where the tears started. I make baskets for my mom and stepdad, my brother and his wife, my uncle, my in-laws… and then always for my grandfather. No matter how hard I tried, I still kept trying to save cookies for Grampie. I know he’s puffing on a Dutch Masters right about now, smiling over that one little bit of information, but even so, it caused me to break down and just cry.
My poor husband had no idea what to do, so he did just the perfect thing. He came and he held me. :) He really is just too good to me sometimes.
So, I come home from work last night, on Christmas Eve Eve if you will, and find him standing in the kitchen… with something brown and furry on his hand.
He bought me a hamster for Christmas! Despite it being against his better judgment, he did just that. And then, THEN the little brat LEAPED off his hand and onto the hard, cold, ceramic tile floor.
We were scared to death that she’d leapt to her death. Zan bends down, scoops her up and puts her on the kitchen island, muttering over and over, “Please move, please move, please…” He gives her a gentle poke in the side and she jumps up, takes off, and makes for the other side of the countertop. OMG, is she quick! It took two of us to corral and recapture this little fuzzball, but finally, she was safe.
While he was outside getting down the old cage, the bag slipped and fell, breaking the lid to the cage. Just great. So, after retrieving the children, we had to go on a hunt for a cage without any wire bars. Why? Because she’s a teeny litte Robo hamster and they’re notorious for SQUEEZING their teeny little bodies between the bars and going on escapades. After a search, we did finally settle on a new cage and she seems happy and content.
Only one problem… we need a name.
So, in the tradition of stealing good ideas from friends, today’s question is: What do you think we should name her? (Thanks, Qwill).
Mischief suggested Lulu, Princess suggested Daisy, and I was thinking Lilah, but we’re still open for suggestions.
Merry Christmas and may all your wishes for the new year come true.
~The Crazy Cat Lady who has just become the Crazy Hamster Lady