A couple weeks ago I found myself seated in a veterinary hospital waiting room with a tiny cage in my lap, holding our gerbil Snowflake. She hadn't been acting well and I couldn't stand the idea of her being in discomfort. I expected them to pressure me to put her down, but when she grabbed hold of the vet's finger with her teeth and would not let go, I knew she still had plenty of life in her. She's fighting to live! He reluctantly sent me home with some "ointment" to treat a mysterious ailment on her underside (I am almost sure it was just a tiny bottle of vaseline and water only to make me happy but I forked over my forty dollars for it.)
In the same week, the hamster died unexpectedly. Some of the closest and sweetest moments we've experienced as a family have been in a circle around a small pile of dirt in the backyard.
Snowflake didn't make it after all, either.
We move next month. This house isn't feeling like home anymore. I'm looking forward to when the next one does. Last weekend we stayed overnight in the new tree house. It was a whirlwind trip we fit between baseball practices, games, and dance recitals. The views are expansive, as is the future. Wide open.