Cutie RIP
Funeral for a furry friend…
This week we had a profound experience in our family. AJ’s rat Cutie died. It wasn’t a complete shock, because over the last few months, she had started to look much more frail and old. Her personality hadn’t changed and her appetite seemed good, but her coat had lost its full, glossy look and she had obviously lost weight. She reminded me of a little old lady, the way her bones poked through her skin.
And so while we knew her days with us were probably coming to an end, her death actually came about rather suddenly. And the way it all unfolded leaves me thinking that there are many larger forces at work than we can possibly comprehend.
She died on Wednesday, which, as it turned out, was a snow day. It didn’t have to be. There wasn’t really all that much snow. But nonetheless, AJ was home from school.
We had planned to go skiing that day. But no one really felt like making the drive up to the slopes that morning, so we were slow to get moving.
AJ had been planning to go sledding with a friend. But first he and his dad were going to shovel the driveway.
It’s all these little ‘buts’ that seem insignificant, or even annoying at the time, that have me so aware of the unseen forces- whatever you want to call them- that surround us.
As they were shoveling, I went to my desk to get started on the day’s blog post. Cutie’s cage is just a few feet from the desk and as I was waiting for the laptop to come alive, I noticed that she seemed to be struggling go get from her little cubby onto the exercise wheel.
This seemed odd, so I opened the cage to give her a hand. As soon as I touched her, I knew something was amiss.
Her body was oddly rigid, like maybe she’d had a stroke or something. I didn’t really know, but it was very clear that whatever it was, she wasn’t going to be with us much longer.
I wrapped her in a bandanna because she was cool to the touch and called in the snow crew. “Hey you guys… I think you’d better come in. I’m pretty sure Cutie is dying.”
AJ shed his coat and boots and I gave him the small bundle. His dad and I joined him on the couch and we sat there snuggled together, all still in our pajamas, for nearly an hour while our little friend breathed ragged breaths.
As we were sitting there, all ambitions to write my blog post, work on class materials, check email, etc. evaporated. I was exactly where I needed to be in that moment, and nothing else was nearly as important as sitting with my son while he was sitting with his pet.
I was so struck by the amazing circumstances that allowed us all to be there for that event. I can’t imagine how hard it would have been for him to come home from sledding with his friend to find her lifeless in her cage. Or worse, (for me anyway!) to have her die while he was at school and have to break the sad news on the way home.
We talked a little about Cutie, and a few tears were shed, but it was a largely silent vigil.
And then it was over. One final contraction rippled through her little body and that was it.
When she was gone, we put her gently into a tissue box (one of her favorite places to sleep) to await burial.
Because of all the snow, it didn’t make sense to bury her that day, so we agreed that on Thursday after school we would find a special place for her in the yard.
After a bit, AJ said, “I think I’m ready to get dressed and go sledding now.”
And so we did.
In the car he said, “I’d like to invite my friends over tomorrow for Cutie’s funeral.” We agreed, though without knowing how many would be able to come on such short notice, I cautioned him that not everyone might make it.
I was out at a meeting Wednesday night, but DH and AJ called all the boys in his class to tell them the news and to invite them to the funeral. To my amazement, all eight of them were able to come.
We had a lovely service, and I was really touched by the sweetness this bunch of 10 year old boys displayed.
The whole experience just has me profoundly grateful for the things I get to see and do as a parent that I never would have imagined. And how it’s those moments when I completely surrender my plans, my agenda and my desires turn out to be the moments when I know I’m in exactly the right place, doing exactly the right thing.
What about you? Have you ever had an experience when it seemed like things were going wrong, but they were actually going exactly right?
