Sad Day Today For M.

This past Christmas, Santa brought M a hamster. I think everyone who reads this knows that Santa is actually me, which means I hid this silly hamster in a travel cage under my bed for two days so I could put the adorable little furball under the tree on Christmas Eve.
When we got Fluffy, he was just barely two months old. Fluffy was the love of M's life. She held him, she kissed his head, she said good morning to him every night (because hamsters are nocturnal so our night is their morning).
Tonight when M got home, she said hello to Fluffy and brought him downstairs. As she was carrying Fluffy back up the stairs, Fluffy fell and unfortunately Jimmy (one of our dogs) was there to break the fall with his mouth. I did not see this happen, but the blood curdling scream from M's mouth somewhat gave it away. By the time I made into the kitchen, M had gotten Jimmy to drop Fluffy and had Fluffy in her hands. I sent the dogs for a little outside time and grabbed a very lifeless Fluffy. With no formal training what so ever, I massaged his little chest and gently blew air into his little nose and mouth and I got a pulse. I washed the dog slobber off and just held him for a while. Then his breathing started to get slower, and he was beginning to be unresponsive so M came in and held him for his last few minutes.
Obviously, I have an incredibly upset 7 year old on my hands that is also incredibly pissed off at the dog.
M is not ready to let Fluffy go. When our cat died a few years ago, I had the cat cremated and the ashes are in a wood box in my computer room along with a ceramic tile with Kitty's paw print. My suggestion to find a shoe box and we bury Fluffy in the back yard was met with, "No, I want to have Fluffy turned to ashes so he can be in a box and I can always have him."
So I will be spending my Monday finding a place that will cremate a hamster and put his little teeny paw prints into a ceramic tile.

Is an Accident Caused by Stupidity Still an Accident?

Thursday morning I stepped out of the shower to four missed calls from M's dad. Unfortunately, he tried to call again right away. When I picked up, he says he is headed to the ER with M. Oh fuck. I throw on clothes, curl my bangs (because ER doctors can be cute) and head for Emmanuel.
I get the full story on what happened while we are waiting for the lidocaine to take effect on M. Apparently, the X had changed the blade on his chainsaw and left it sitting in front of his utility closet at the edge of the kitchen. Dumbass neglected to put the guard back on after he did this leaving the chain exposed. M got up Thursday morning to get something out of the fridge, and when she went running back to the bedroom split her foot open on the chainsaw blade.
A few stitches later we are on our way. Thursday also happened to be M's last day of school which she insisted on attending because she did not want to miss the last day of school party. A chocolate-chip frappacino to make everything better and off to school she went.
Poor little girl... her foot's been all swollen, it hurts, and she can't get her feet dirty and it's flip flop weather.