Bernadette passed away last week. She hadn’t been looking well the week beforehand and had stopped eating, but interestingly enough she had been acting like her old self the day before I found her buried under the aspen with which we line the cage. I’m very squeamish with death stuff so I had Joe remove her from the cage because, and I’m sorry if this is too graphic, she didn’t look like a mouse anymore. She was bloodied like she had been attacked, or maybe even partially eaten. My apologies if that grossed anyone out, but that’s how it appeared although I wasn’t about to look too closely. She was buried out back near the patio and now we’re left with Penny.
We visited a shelter on Saturday to look at the animals and came to the conclusion we’re both too allergic to cats to consider adopting one. My whole face felt itchy and Joe’s eyes felt swollen, plus his asthma started acting up. So as much as we both love cats I think that we’ll end up getting a dog at some point instead. Something not too big, though. After having my sister-in-law’s very well-behaved dog come to stay with us twice in the last month I can say it’s not that bad having a dog in the house. I’m sure it depends on the dog but hers is no trouble at all. I even took her for a walk one day and she was pretty good about not pulling on the leash. Granted, I’d still rather have a cat, and am considering fostering kittens to see if perhaps the shelter bothered us due to the sheer number of felines in a small place, but I’m trying not to keep my hopes up with the cat situation.