The Pied Piper of Puppies

That’s Spuds. Having all these animals drives me crazy a lot of the time, but they, especially the dogs, are good for his soul.  They love him, and, I think, I hope, he loves them.  Like, actually loves them.

With the German Shepherd getting so old, I find myself wondering how Spuds will handle The End. One dog, a rabbit, and a smattering of guinea pigs (wait . . . “smattering”  sounds a little too close to “splattering” . . . the guinea pigs didn’t splatter their way to the other side, I promise) . . . where was I?  Oh yeah, several animals have passed on since Spuds joined the family, and he was rather, disappointingly, dispassionate about each death.

It’s not that I want my children to be terribly, horribly sad; but sadness at the passing of a pet indicates an emotional bond had been formed, and I want him to have emotional bonds, even if, for now, it is only to the dogs; because being bonded to a dog enough to be sad when it dies is a start.  It’s a measure of progress.  It’s a rather morbid measure, I know, but it’s a measure nonetheless.  There are no rules or scales for this kind of thing, I’m afraid.  I’m not sure how much longer we have with good old Rude the Dog, but, yes, I hope my son is at least a little bit sad when the time comes, and I hope he continues to find joy in the unconditional adoration he receives from Wulfric.

Maybe We Talk About Harry Potter a Little Too Much?

Tonight at bedtime, Spuds, who has a cold, came to me and said, “Mom, we should get a deluminator.”

“You mean like the one Quinn has?” I asked, because Quinn does, in fact, have a deluminator which turns a little lantern off and on.”

“Yeah,” said Spuds, “but a real one. ”

“Ummm . . . a real one?” I asked tentatively and with a little surprise.  I thought the boy already knew those things aren’t real (in the sense that they don’t work on any and every light built by mankind).

“You know,” he said.  “A real one.  Not one that’s like a cow or a lizard or anything.”

“You want a deluminator but not a cow deluminator?” I asked in complete confusion.  “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.  I’ve never seen, let alone heard of, a cow deluminator.”

The mind boggles.  What would be the purpose of a cow deluminator?  For the love . . . please don’t tell me it would be to turn cows on (and off, obviously).  I mean, I used to know someone who collected bull semen for a living, so maybe it would have come in handy in his line of work, but that seems like a lot of magical inventing for a very limited use, no?  Anyway, back to the conversation . . . 

“You know,” he persisted.  “Like the one we took out of Quinn’s room when we were cleaning it”

At this point we were walking up the stairs toward the boys’ bedrooms.

“We took a cow deluminator out of Quinn’s room???  I really don’t know what you’re talking . . .”

And there, at the top of the stairs, was the trusty husband waiting for us next to:


“Do you mean the cow humidifier?”

“Oh, yeah.  That’s what I meant!”

Thank the stars!  Because I did not want my kid asking Santa for a magical device that does nothing more and nothing less than get our bovine population’s hopes up only to profoundly disappoint them moments later, over and over, with the flick of a switch.  We live in the country.  We buy local beef.  I’m thinking that would have to affect the meat in some way.

Tewt the Newt would like to clarify that he is not a lizard.