Death comes in threes.

I have looked were that phase came from, but there is not a whole lot of information on it. I do know that it is a much truer statement than I care to admit. These past few months have been crazy. I know I have held on as much as I could for my family.

Our pet Guinea pig died this morning. His name was Pascal from the movie Tangled. He was my daughter’s first family pet. My wife got him from a gentleman about 5 years ago who was getting rid of him following a bad break up. It was her pet and she loved him. He was nervous of us at first but soon, when he realized that we all loved him and was caring for him, he was very happy in his new home. He loved fruit and veggies. His favorite was the tomato. He would get one and he would squeal like a pig (go figure). When he was especially happy he would do little hops (or as my girls called it “he is doing his popcorn dance!”).

He was getting old here lately. He never liked being moved (our last move was 3 years ago) and we were not looking to move again. He was at least 2 years old when we got him and we had him for almost 5 years. We knew his time was coming soon.

I am tired of death. The death of the unborn, the death of a family member, and now the death of a family pet have worn me thin. I am having to explain once again about death to my daughters. Parenting has never been easy. This is by far one of the hardest experiences to help them through. I just need a break.

I think it is time to hug a pony.Sad_fluttershy

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