February 12 – “The Lolly Incident”

Yesterday was one of those times when Nathan had to be at work by 6:30 and April had to be at clinicals for nursing school by 6:15.  Rather than wake Cailyn up and drag her over to our house at that early hour, guess who gets to drive over there at 5:45 so she can sleep in?  That would be good old DadDad.  Actually I’m usually up by then anyway, so it’s really not a problem.  I just packed up the laptop and settled in on the floor with my back up against the couch while Abby their boxer snoozed … up on the couch.  Explains why I got the floor. 

Sleeping in for Cailyn means she trudged down the stairs around 7:15 or so.  That event was preceded by the appearance of her sleeping companion, Scooter the Boston Terrier.  And Cailyn’s first stop was the cage of their ferret, Lolly.  Apparently part of the morning routine at the Vaughan Family Zoo is for Lolly to have some time outside her cage, either snuggling on the couch or hiding under the pillows or … as happened in our case yesterday, of course … disappearing.  Now I happened to know from earlier consultations with April that the disappearing trick was not something brand new just to show off for DadDad.  She had told me before that Lolly had gone missing one time and had kept them in suspense until they finally located her behind the stove in the kitchen.  Guess she was cold.  I checked there as my second choice when we realized she was no longer pacing on the side table next to the couch.  That would be after I pulled the couch away from the wall and looked under every couch pillow.  I even asked Cailyn if they had kind of secret signal or special way of calling Lolly.  She looked at me quizzically for a moment, then offered in a bit louder voice, “How about, ‘Lolly’?”  Funny.  Then she suggested, “You could try the kitchen or in my room downstairs, or maybe she’s in my Mommy and Daddy’s room upstairs.”  Great help there, Cailyn.  Just what I needed – a verbal floor plan of the entire house.  But by then she got into the flow of things and suggested scratching the fabric on the couch.  Now there was an inspired idea.  We tried it.  No luck.  That’s when we expanded our search. 

I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to call for some firemen to come help in the rescue attempt.  But a ferret is a rodent, isn’t it?  Worst case scenario would be we don’t find her and she lives surreptitiously in the walls, eating cockroaches and running other mice out of her territory.  What’s so bad about that?  I did want to check one other place, though, before I gave up.  The bathroom always has great places to hide, especially if you are a long, very skinny rat-like creature.  I turned on the hall light as I approached the bathroom and happened to glance over at the ferret’s cage.  And there, peeking out from underneath the cage, was the missing Lolly.  She just wanted to go home, that’s all.  We played hide and seek for a moment or two as she decided whether or not I could be trusted.  She finally came out of hiding and I was able to return her to her humble abode.  Mission accomplished.

Psalms 66:1-2 says, “Shout with joy to God, all the earth!  Sing the glory of his name; make his praise glorious!”

Father, thanks for the reminder from a rodent that I can always come back home to you and you will find me and gently return me to the comfort of your presence.  Amen.