Filling the Hole with Fluffies

I've thought a lot about my love of pets.  When I was a kid, I think I loved cats so much because I never got enough attention from Mom.  There were seven of us, and I always felt a little lost in the middle.  So I turned to cats to fill that hole.  

Now, I'm older.  I don't think I'm filling the parental hole in my life.  I think what I've done instead is fill the hole not having a baby has left in my life.  When my husband and I first got married, we had a rational two cats.  Okay, the cats weren't rational, but the number of pets was.  For the first few years of our marriage as we had one child then another, we added a few more here and there, mostly to entertain the kids.  The cats were the love of my little girl's life.  The hamster was to keep my boy happy when we were about to have another girl instead of a boy.  [It took us pretty much the whole hamster's life to finally admit that whereas we had tried to get a boy hamster, so he didn't feel the imbalance in the force quite as much, we only ended up tipping it female just a bit more.]  We got a bearded dragon because my boy was all about dinosaurs, and that was as close as we could get.  We got fish because the kids found them fascinating and pretty to watch.  

But then, after Alli died, our pet population exploded: cats [now five], rats [several, now down to zero], dogs [one then two then three and back to two again], guinea pigs [two, though that phase passed quickly when the stunk up the house and woke my girl every morning with their squealing], snakes [several at one point because my boy loves snakes], ducks [sold], bunnies [we've gone through several over the years and are now down to two that we rescued], chickens [12 at one point, but the raccoons wiped out so many that we only have a few left], lizards [still have two], frogs [all gone], goats [sold as soon as they ran away one too many times], and I'm sure I'm missing one or two more.  But we've had an insane number of pets.  Part of it was because the kids wanted to try out this animal or that one.  

But I think a bigger part of it was because I was filling a hole.  I couldn't go out and buy a baby, but I could go out and buy a baby, but I could go out and buy something else to care for like a snake or a bunny or a chicken.  But none of them scratched the itch.  None filled the hole.  So I slowly pared down to a few cats, two dogs, a couple of lizards, two bunnies, and a handful of chickens.  That still may sound like a lot, but it's sane compared to what it was, and the greater part of the population stays outdoors.  The cats do the best job of filling the hole left by babies because they're snuggly and warm and like to be held.  But I have had to come to terms with the idea that animals just cannot be what I want them to be.  However, I can be what they need me to be, which is their caretaker who gives them the attention/food/water/etc. they need.  It's good to identify what's happening, so I can seek my solace elsewhere and let the animals be whatever they want and need to be.  

A Hug from Heaven

My little girl has always been a toucher.  We called her the Squish [until she told us the nickname dies or else] because she wanted to hold, touch, squish food, people, pets, EVERYTHING, and she wanted to be held and tickled and snuggled.  She's a tactile learner, and her love language is touch.

She also always had a bond with Alamanda, her baby sister.  The day before we found out we were pregnant, my two-and-a half-year-old girl came in to tell me her baby sister was coming.  When we so much as suggested we may get a boy, she looked at us as if we had grown a third eye.  When her baby sister was taken from us, we did not explain how it happened, but she gave us details she couldn't have known from anyone but Alamanda.  They have a bond.

My girl still struggles with the loss of her sister, even after counseling, even after all this time.  Alamanda knew she did.  So when my little girl requested and prayed for a kitten for her 8th birthday, Alamanda sent her an entire batch of kittens to raise from a week old.  But my angel knew that the one we selected would not be the perfect match for my girl.  So six months later, she sent another batch with just the perfect kitten, the one that would remain tiny, the one who would be docile, who would let herself be hauled around and loved and snuggled to bed.  And Heavenly Father wanted us to know this gift was a miracle because each ounce up to a pound was hard fought until we united our voices in prayer with others.  Then that tiny kitten practically doubled her weight overnight.

Alamanda could not be here to give her sister all the hugs she craved, so she sent a hug from heaven, a constant, everyday hug.  And it only occurred to me now that this is the case.  So every time my girl hugs her fuzzy baby, she can know she's hugging her angel, too.  It just goes to show that guardian angels really do watch over us, and our loving Heavenly Father cares about even the little things if they're important to us.