Life’s been moving along this summer and the struggle has been on to not have every day be the same – so that the next thing you know the summer is over with nothing memorable happening. So in the first three weeks we’ve been having a summer movie series, a summer book club, been to a concert, gone to the pool, played mini golf, had a friend over for dinner, went for walks at the beach, had 4th of July in Williamsburg, and I replace one of our bathrooms’ floor and toilet. So I guess it’s been an eventful summer so far. The last few days fate decided to take over, though, and throw some memorable curveballs at us in which we had to make a decision. Did we make the right ones?
A couple days ago one of our daughter’s guinea pigs was sick. It wasn’t doing well. It wasn’t eating. It was panting real fast and just sitting in a corner of her cage. My wife asked google what was happening and was told it was probably a respiratory infection and if the pig wasn’t taken to a vet soon it would most likely die. Now this guinea pig only cost us $18. It was half price on special. My wife found a vet that takes guinea pigs and found out it was $60 just for an appointment – which means maybe hundreds of dollars to keep the pig from dying. So she calls me for “advice”. What should we do? A little over a year ago we had to have our dog put down. We had her for almost 16 years and our daughter’s whole life. Our daughter really wanted to get another dog. Every week when she would come home from volunteering at the animal shelter, she would bring with her pictures of the new dog she wanted. We really, really didn’t want a new dog. Then the idea of guinea pigs surfaced. We went back and forth about it – should we get guinea pigs, should we just break down and get a dog, should we get nothing and live in peace? Well, we were leaning toward the getting nothing and living in peace decision when we took a trip to the pet shop last October and our daughter laid eyes on this little brown and white fuzzy guinea pig. She really wanted it – and it was making her happy – so the being a good father gene kicked in and I let her get it. And since the store was having a sale and since guinea pigs do better in pairs – I let her get two. Now nine months later one of them was dying and it was decision time. Well, we decided to go the vet route. We didn’t want it to die and we didn’t want our daughter to get all upset without us trying to do something. So my wife took it to the vet. After numerous negotiations with the doctor over what kind of treatment and how much it was going to cost – she got out of there with a non-dead guinea pig and $133 lighter. They gave the pig some oxygen, a couple shots, and two different medicines to take for the next week or two. The bounce back from guinea pig heaven was amazing. The pig looked really bad a few hours before the vet appointment. I really didn’t think it would survive. After the visit, it was like nothing had happened. So, I guess we made the right decision. The summer can now continue without the clouds of death hanging over us.
Last night we decided to go out and do a couple of our favorite things. Visit O’Connor Brewery in Norfolk for a couple beers and listen to some music, and go get some greek pizza at Orapax. While at the brewery a big guy with a big beard asked us if he could share our table with him. Of course, we said. After a while we got talking and found out he is in town for 39 days for training, is from the state of Washington, likes to fish and own guns, and drink beer. He had been on a little local brewery tour using uber which led him to O’Connor. We drank and it got late – and we still needed to go get dinner. While our new friend was off getting another beer, we decided we should finish up so we could go soon. But he came back with another beer for us. That’s when it hit me. Maybe we should invite him to dinner. But he’s a stranger, and he’s been talking all night about guns. But he’s by himself and had a bag full of growlers he had bought for his friend back home. Not the sign of a crazy killer, I don’t think. I wouldn’t be able to confer with my wife and it seemed rude not to ask, so I took a chance. The next thing I knew we were all trying to squeeze into our Mini Cooper. We had the pizza, talked some more, found out his name is Kevin, gave him some advise on what else to do in the area, and then dropped him off at his hotel. It’s weird how rare this kind of thing is nowadays. When I was a kid I remember my dad picking up hitchhikers a few times – or bringing someone he barely knew from work home for dinner. Normally we rarely speak to our neighbors, but last night we made a new friend…
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