When a Sanctuary Becomes a Hospice...

 

My name is "Squirrel" and
my favorite things are Yum-Yum,
cuddling into mom's warm neck
(although when she is playing
"Adele LIVE at Royal Albert Hall"
and singing along...well...
 (kinda TOTAL "Epic Fail!")
But I just act like she sings as
good as she does her hair on
her "bad hair days."
(see a few posts down and pity me.)
I also love running and popcorning
about the "Barnyard" mom made
me and Yum-Yum to keep us
separated from those other
creatures. Why does mom have
wild animals living here with us?


 

Mom's looking online and everywhere
for information about Yum-Yum's 
convulsions...they resemble "dry heaves"
but hasn't found anything other than 
bad stuff. And she and Edwin once
adopted their own vet's "hospice pig"
when the vet went to Australia once
a long, long time ago, about the time
they rescued Chai the Bengal Cat.
She was so sick from neglect (how could
a VET do that? Said it was "her daughter's")
but she died of a seizure in front of Chai
and he tried to bring her back to life and
mom and dad had already put a carpet
sample on the top of her cage because
he kept vigil while she was dying and he
remained there for at least 24 hours
silently after she passed.
So, we don't know what is happening with
Yum-Yum or how serious it is but we do
know it's my job as his squirrel to 
be happy and popcorn and run and 
sniff him and chew mom's furniture
and sleep next to him when he feels
poorly and I am a squirrel of Virtue.
Mom's a mess. But that's not my job,
THANK GOODNESS!
love,
Squirrel
P.S. will someone teach mom how
to spell it? She should've just named
me "brown box." Geez-A-Loo!