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Girlfriend and I broke up for a while, a week exactly. It was one of the worst weeks I have ever experienced. Girlfriend seemed to take it well, so good for her. Bitch. Just kiddddddddddding, Girlfriend. Stop crying!
I was going to blog about it all but decided to try and keep the whole ordeal mostly private. It was a difference of opinion/life style thing and I wasn't looking to embarrass either of us. Or jeopardize us getting back together... Anywwwwway... It was a Thursday night when we broke up (I broke up with her, ahem) and a Thursday afternoon when we got back together. She was adamant that she make me dinner and that the two of us drink massive amounts of wine. It's her way of saying "Sorry" or "I am going to murder you and eat your flesh later and need you massively intoxicated so you don't know what is going on". I'm not sure... What I am sure of is this: she understands me unlike anyone else... She gets me. She knows that you need to give me food and wine to quiet my anger. I am so lucky.
This is why I love Girlfriend. We made Sangria with bubbly wine, grilled chicken, and ate fresh strawberry salad, and rescued baby mice.
ROMANCE KILLER ALERT: Always check the grill before you barbecue unless you want to be surprised by something.
It was all set, beautiful! I made the salad, she prepared the chicken. We made sangria together. She goes to open the grill and and I hear her longing voice... far off and sultry. "Uh, Rachael. Can you come here?"
"This better be good," I was about to pour myself my first goblet of the sangria.
She points to something in the grill, I tell her that she's disgusting and needs to take better care of her things. In the back of the grill is a big mound of leaves, fur, thread, etc.
"I think it's a nest!" she says. Sure, I think. We just got back together and she's trying to win me over, doesn't want me thinking she's a slob (because there can only be one! And it's me. I'm the slob.)
I move in, testing the waters. I blow on the nest a little. Rattle the grill. Howl. Then I see it; something gray and tiny writhing. Then I see IT; something gray and big, running. Baby mice and momma mouse.
"TURN ON THE GRILL. KILL THEM!" I shriek. End their suffering - they aren't long for this world and I was hungry!
"Uh..." Girlfriend looked at the nest. "I think that's not... uh... Okay."
"You're right," I say. What was I thinking. "Take them out, clean them, then grill them!" tonight will be a good feast, I thought.
"Rachael..."
":("
"Be honest..."
":'("
"Go on..."
"FINE. We need to save them. WE NEED TO SAVE THEM. Find a box, stat!" I went into super savior mode. I was trying to act tough for Girlfriend, but I CANNOT LET A BABY ANIMAL SUFFER. Or something. I don't know. If we had just walked off and baked the chicken all woulda been fine.
Girlfriend comes back with gloves and a strawberry box. She informs me the mom will kill the babies if our scent rubs onto the babies. I cry in horror. I stop crying after an hour and realize "Eh, it's nature."
---
So, this is where I left off... However many months ago. I am going to try and remember what happened but errr...
---
We battle through time and space to capture the babies which actually is much easier than it sounds. We just lifted the nest up and place it into the strawberry box. The hard part was the mom ran off with three of the babies. We tried getting her out of the grill and after about two minutes she jumped from the grill onto Girlfriend's porch that is on the second level. We then proceeded to lose the mother mouse and can only assume she fell to her death, but not before dropping another mouse.
We saved four mice, lost two and the mother.
What a good day!
Hahaha, ya, no. Since the mother was gone it was up to us to either leave the mice in the forest or help them. We helped them because I wanted to raise them and use them in my SUPER MOUSE CIRCUS.
I searched the internet for help, learning to feed them soy baby formula every 2 hours.
You also have to rub their baby bellies after feeding to help them to do their business.
I can't remember, but I think our mice were 8 days old. Furry and gray, but eyes closed.
It was all set, beautiful! I made the salad, she prepared the chicken. We made sangria together. She goes to open the grill and and I hear her longing voice... far off and sultry. "Uh, Rachael. Can you come here?"
"This better be good," I was about to pour myself my first goblet of the sangria.
She points to something in the grill, I tell her that she's disgusting and needs to take better care of her things. In the back of the grill is a big mound of leaves, fur, thread, etc.
"I think it's a nest!" she says. Sure, I think. We just got back together and she's trying to win me over, doesn't want me thinking she's a slob (because there can only be one! And it's me. I'm the slob.)
I move in, testing the waters. I blow on the nest a little. Rattle the grill. Howl. Then I see it; something gray and tiny writhing. Then I see IT; something gray and big, running. Baby mice and momma mouse.
"TURN ON THE GRILL. KILL THEM!" I shriek. End their suffering - they aren't long for this world and I was hungry!
"Uh..." Girlfriend looked at the nest. "I think that's not... uh... Okay."
"You're right," I say. What was I thinking. "Take them out, clean them, then grill them!" tonight will be a good feast, I thought.
"Rachael..."
":("
"Be honest..."
":'("
"Go on..."
"FINE. We need to save them. WE NEED TO SAVE THEM. Find a box, stat!" I went into super savior mode. I was trying to act tough for Girlfriend, but I CANNOT LET A BABY ANIMAL SUFFER. Or something. I don't know. If we had just walked off and baked the chicken all woulda been fine.
Girlfriend comes back with gloves and a strawberry box. She informs me the mom will kill the babies if our scent rubs onto the babies. I cry in horror. I stop crying after an hour and realize "Eh, it's nature."
---
So, this is where I left off... However many months ago. I am going to try and remember what happened but errr...
---
We battle through time and space to capture the babies which actually is much easier than it sounds. We just lifted the nest up and place it into the strawberry box. The hard part was the mom ran off with three of the babies. We tried getting her out of the grill and after about two minutes she jumped from the grill onto Girlfriend's porch that is on the second level. We then proceeded to lose the mother mouse and can only assume she fell to her death, but not before dropping another mouse.
We saved four mice, lost two and the mother.
What a good day!
Hahaha, ya, no. Since the mother was gone it was up to us to either leave the mice in the forest or help them. We helped them because I wanted to raise them and use them in my SUPER MOUSE CIRCUS.
I searched the internet for help, learning to feed them soy baby formula every 2 hours.
You also have to rub their baby bellies after feeding to help them to do their business.
I can't remember, but I think our mice were 8 days old. Furry and gray, but eyes closed.
That is a bad picture, but fuck you'll live!
They were adorable, they were sweet, they were hard to feed, and they made squeaking noises that freaked me out and kept me constantly checking on them.
We made a small nest for them in my niece's fish tank stuffed with hand warmers, cotton balls, and tissue. It was pretty good - except that you HAD TO FEED THEM EVERY TWO HOURS. I'm not sure if you missed that earlier, because I didn't think it was a big deal at first either. Except it is.
I realized I wasn't going to make it at 4am the next day. I had homework I wasn't able to do because I was tired, my brain was barely working. After a whole day of feeding and squeezing them free of poop I knew it was over for me. I woke up with my alarm, in tears. Girlfriend woke up.
"I can't do it! Just bury them in the back! I give up!"
"You'll just cry harder if you do that."
"I don't know what to do though. I am so tired and I have homework and I am watching the kids in a day and I can't do this anymore!"
I would be able to stop feeding them every two hours in like four days I think, but this was ridiculous. I wouldn't be able to feed them while in class and running errands. I flew too close to the sun.
That next day we gave them to a pet store that I am pretty sure froze them or fed them live to a snake.
RIP BABY MICE
I have fat hands.
Also, I miss them sometimes.
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