Heartbreak in the Backyard

YoungestBoy loves pets. Unfortunately, he has lost three pets in his short six years.

Millie the Cat was dispatched to Kitty Heaven shortly after Babygirl's birth. Millie the Cat developed some kind of neurological condition which required Kitty Antidepressants. I'd shove the pills down her throat and she would vomit them up and then scratch herself until she bled. We agreed that sending her to Kitty Heaven was the most compassionate thing we could do for her since there was no cure for her mental illness. None of the boys noticed that Millie the Cat was missing for about three months.

Greta the Dog was a furry, sweet Newfoundland. We raised her for two years. Then she nipped at TwinBoyB and a week later, nipped at YoungestBoy, drawing blood on both of their faces. She was returned to the breeder and placed in a new home. We just couldn't take the chance of having 100-pound Greta nip at a baby.

Fred the Snail was captured on our driveway in May 2002. He lived a happy, uneventful life in a vented pet box, hidden under the long drapes in the dining room. Then over a year later, he was moved to an upstairs window and the afternoon sun boiled him in his shell.

YoungestBoy cried hard when he lost each pet. We replaced Millie the Cat with Shadow the Cat. Greta was replaced with a giant stuffed animal. But snails are hard to find around here.

And then, a miracle! After dinner yesterday, we were hanging out in the backyard. Babygirl was riding her trike over the grass, TwinBoyB was using a giant magnifying glass to turn a slug "inside out" and YoungestBoy was hunting for more slugs. He came running around the corner shouting, "Mom! I found a snail!"

Clutched in his chubby hand was a snail half the size of my pinkie-fingernail. Its shell was translucent. While we watched, the tiny head stretched out of the shell. I couldn't believe it! In my 39 years of life, this is the second snail I've seen in the Pacific Northwest. (Other than snails that live in the water, of course.) What a lucky boy!

I said, "What are you going to name him?"

YoungestBoy thought for just a moment and said, "Replacement Fred." He went inside, got a Mason jar and put a few tasty leaves in the jar for Replacement Fred.

Awhile later, YoungestBoy says, "Oh no! I dropped my snail!"

"Where?" I ask.

"In the grass somewhere. I was running and holding him in my hand."

Sigh. Then we squatted on the grass and tried--in vain--to locate tiny Replacement Fred. YoungestBoy cried. I said, helpfully, "Well, maybe you can find another one."

YoungestBoy said, "Mom, that was just a lucky stroke. I will never find another snail."

We looked under the rocks where YoungestBoy found Replacement Fred, hoping Replacement Fred had a brother or a sister. Nope. Replacement Fred must have been an orphan or a runaway. YoungestBoy spent a great deal of time in the backyard before lunch, hunting. He found a bunch of potato bugs (he calls them roly-poly-olies). One even hung upside down from a stick, wrapping its teeny little legs around it.

But it's not Replacement Fred.

Replacement Fred! Come back! We promise not to forget you in a sunny windowsill!