The sad news first. My rat Gus died. I of course knew it would happen. Death comes to us all, no? And I expected it. He's been losing weight and slowing down since December. But he lived to a ripe old age of 3-3.5 years. He's been with us since November 2011, and I like to think that I gave him a happy end to his life, with the love of me and Camden, and also the companionship of Robin. Saturday (the 7th) night I held him while I sat outside on my parents' porch swing and read. I snuggled with him Sunday morning, also. I knew he was close, but I didn't expect it. Not really. I went to town, and when I came home, he was gone. I buried him in my parents' orchard, which is close to the garden I've planted there. He's "just a rat" and I only knew him for a year and a half. But I loved him. And I miss him. He was such a snuggle bug. And now Robin is alone, which is terrible for him, I know. I'm giving him as much freedom and time with me and Camden as I can, since I can't bring myself to get another short-lived rattum to keep him company. Is that selfish of me? Probably.
And so I can end this post on a happier note: We did have a lot of fun at my parents the days we were there.
Saturday, Camden and I helped my dad get the garden in. He's trying a new thing this year: raised beds using stock tanks. He planted green beans and zucchinis in them, hoping it will be easier to harvest them. And since I'm fresh out of home-grown canned green beans, I say more power to him! And if it saves his and my mom's backs, even better.