Dave recently found employment at a school. He will be their music/band teacher... literally, he will teach all music. There is no choir and the kids don't get general music until 4th grade (unless their regular classroom teachers decide to integrate it). Since the new career is somewhat near my grandma's uninhibited house, we decided to move in. My parents hope to move here when they are able to retire, so Dave and I will just be keeping it occupied. What we enjoy the most about the house is that it's on a lake. It has been somewhat strange for me that we continue to live here (day in and day out) since I'm used to staying for maybe a week at most to just visit. My grandma now lives in an assisted living facility near-by and I am able to visit her.
We are farther away from most of the people (if not all of the people) we knew, but we are both employed (I just got a job as a pharmacy tech/salesperson at a drug store in town) and are living rent free for now. It will be fun getting used to living in a "smaller" town than we are both used to, and at times challenging getting used to living a bit further from civilization (we are not technically living within city limits so things like delivery and internet service are compromised). I find it very worth the small "sacrifices" we've been making, but I'm not extremely technology-minded, which seems to be the thing most affected... technology.
On a somewhat random note, but as mentioned in the previous post, we adopted my Grandma's cat - Kiki. She is a large calico in her later years of life. Lydia is interested in her but unfortunately Kiki is not the most playful cat and finds Lydia's playful nips to be very perturbing. They have made some headway in their relationship, but I don't think they will ever be best friends.
I intend to write more about life at "grandma's" and the new job, but for now I want to get back to a book I'm reading called "Fairest" by Gail Carson Levine.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Calci's death
I haven't written in quite a while partially because so much has happened (you'd think it would be the other way around since it's nice to have something to write about). I won't be writing about everything that happened in this post, but I wanted to address the death of our little ferret, Calcifer.
Calcifer, or Calci as we more often called her, was born some time in February 2006. I gave her the birthday of February 23rd because it's Saint Polycarp day which I like to celebrate (I'm not kidding - maybe I'll write about it later). I picked her out at a Petco in April of 2006 to be a friend for Lydia (our other ferret who I've had since December 2005). Calci was a sweet little ferret and also a little demon at times, particularly when nipping our toes or reacting to the dreaded squeak toy. She and Lydia got into many battles and then cuddled up together during nap times. Almost a year ago Calci started showing signs of Adrenal Gland disease, which is a common problem for ferrets. After talking to the vet it sounded like the major options were surgery (2-3 thousand dollars) which may lead to other problems, or shots that would treat the symptoms but not the actual disease. Since Calci was not in pain we had her get one of the shots and then monitored her over time. In late July (this year) she began to chew more at her side but still seemed very playful. Then one day she didn't come out of her cage. I pulled her out and pet her. Normally she is too squirmy for much cuddle time, but this time she just lay in my arms quietly. After a while I set her down to see if she would play, this is when I found out that she couldn't stand up, her back paws wouldn't hold her. Something was wrong with her back. When we were able to get her to the vet, she told us it was likely that because of the adrenal disease, Calci had also developed (an) insulinoma. The treatments were a combination of surgery and steroid shots with hopes that she would live one more year, so we chose to have her put to sleep. I never wanted her to suffer but it was a very difficult decision. If you are a pet-lover you will understand, if not just think of it as a silent friend/family member that has been in your life every day for 3 years. It is heartbreaking to be the one to chose your pet's fate, and it doesn't seem fair to have to chose when the pet can't easily communicate how it feels or it's desires. I was lucky enough to have Dave with me through this experience. We kept Calci with us after they injected her. We told her how much we loved her, what a good ferret she was, and that we were sorry. Not much time passed before she closed her eyes. She looked very peaceful and sweet. She has left a void that I do not wish to fill. I do not want another ferret even though I care very deeply about her and Lydia. Although Lydia looked for Calci and now is alone in the cage, she is a very independent little creature and seems to be doing well. She also has a new cat "buddy" that she likes to torment (poor kiki). More about the cat in another post. Since I believe in heaven, I am choosing to believe that Calci is there. I know it sounds sappy, but how can a loving God exclude such a sweet innocent? I hope that if I was wrong, I can be forgiven. It sounds like life would have been hard if that's what we had chose.
In loving memory of Calcifer 2/23/06 - 7/30/09
Calcifer, or Calci as we more often called her, was born some time in February 2006. I gave her the birthday of February 23rd because it's Saint Polycarp day which I like to celebrate (I'm not kidding - maybe I'll write about it later). I picked her out at a Petco in April of 2006 to be a friend for Lydia (our other ferret who I've had since December 2005). Calci was a sweet little ferret and also a little demon at times, particularly when nipping our toes or reacting to the dreaded squeak toy. She and Lydia got into many battles and then cuddled up together during nap times. Almost a year ago Calci started showing signs of Adrenal Gland disease, which is a common problem for ferrets. After talking to the vet it sounded like the major options were surgery (2-3 thousand dollars) which may lead to other problems, or shots that would treat the symptoms but not the actual disease. Since Calci was not in pain we had her get one of the shots and then monitored her over time. In late July (this year) she began to chew more at her side but still seemed very playful. Then one day she didn't come out of her cage. I pulled her out and pet her. Normally she is too squirmy for much cuddle time, but this time she just lay in my arms quietly. After a while I set her down to see if she would play, this is when I found out that she couldn't stand up, her back paws wouldn't hold her. Something was wrong with her back. When we were able to get her to the vet, she told us it was likely that because of the adrenal disease, Calci had also developed (an) insulinoma. The treatments were a combination of surgery and steroid shots with hopes that she would live one more year, so we chose to have her put to sleep. I never wanted her to suffer but it was a very difficult decision. If you are a pet-lover you will understand, if not just think of it as a silent friend/family member that has been in your life every day for 3 years. It is heartbreaking to be the one to chose your pet's fate, and it doesn't seem fair to have to chose when the pet can't easily communicate how it feels or it's desires. I was lucky enough to have Dave with me through this experience. We kept Calci with us after they injected her. We told her how much we loved her, what a good ferret she was, and that we were sorry. Not much time passed before she closed her eyes. She looked very peaceful and sweet. She has left a void that I do not wish to fill. I do not want another ferret even though I care very deeply about her and Lydia. Although Lydia looked for Calci and now is alone in the cage, she is a very independent little creature and seems to be doing well. She also has a new cat "buddy" that she likes to torment (poor kiki). More about the cat in another post. Since I believe in heaven, I am choosing to believe that Calci is there. I know it sounds sappy, but how can a loving God exclude such a sweet innocent? I hope that if I was wrong, I can be forgiven. It sounds like life would have been hard if that's what we had chose.
In loving memory of Calcifer 2/23/06 - 7/30/09
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