This fall a terrible, terrible thing happened. Through a combination of events that alone would have been okay, together they made the perfect storm that led to poor little Amelia drowning in a toilet. (She was my only female flying squirrel, you can read about her acquisition in an older post). I felt so horrible, so awful and so devastated words cannot adequately describe it.
I imagine it might be what it would feel like to accidentally harm or a kill one of your children. How can you forgive yourself? How can you keep from seeing an endless loop of the tragedy in your mind and in your sleep?
Since then I have had my two pairs of males, Crunchy and Booger, and the older gay couple, Wilbur and Orville. Needless to say, none of those guys had expressed any interest in adopting a baby like Elton John or Ricky Martin did so I figured we would just have to put away the baby things and just enjoy the men.
However, once again I was looking on Craigslist and low and behold, there was an ad for a 9 month old female flying squirrel. Cash only. I immediately e-mailed the owner of the ad and hoped that no one else had contacted them first.
(This is the actual picture of the squirrel for sale)
Eventually the owner and I made contact and agreed to meet in the parking lot of a restaurant at a mall. When she finally drove up, I realized it was the same woman I had gotten Crunchy from! When asked, she fessed up that this squirrel was captive born and bred from a pair her father had stolen out of a tree as babies. Now I had a quandry, do I support this kind of stupid behavior by paying for this baby, or do I take a stand and not buy the baby?
That was a no brainer.
I handed over the cash and took the little plastic box with a fleece pouch in it. I did not verify there was a squirrel in there but did feel a little warm body so I was satisfied. I drove home, on top of the world.
When I got home I took her out to introduce her to her new life. She is sweet, lovable and very much enjoys her new array of foods to choose from. I am planning to introduce her to Crunchy and Booger pretty soon.
I am so happy! If I were a dog I would express my feelings "by an agitation of my caudal appendage" as the book my date is reading (Campaigning with Grant, written in 1897) described it.
And off we go on a new adventure!
