Consider Jennifer Mally's notes a kind of blog in slow motion.  "It's not moment to moment commentary.  It's not always current, and it's not always colorful.  That pretty much describes me," says Jen, "but you might relate."

Larry, Curly and Moe had Babies
by Jennifer Mally

Larry, Curly and Moe had babies.

I knew we were in trouble when the clerk at the pet store said they were too young to tell if they were boys or girls.  OK, odds are at least one of the three little buggars would be a girl.  Itty-bitty baby white mice were most certainly in our future.  But knowing it didn't prepare me for what was ultimately to come.

Inquisitive young David later determined that yes, indeed, we had one girl -- Curly was/is a she.  Looking back on it, we now know why Curly spent so much time running in the wheel.  When she was running, Larry and Moe couldn't catch her.  Obviously, though, on at least one unfortunate occasion, she stopped for a little too long of a breather.

I'm sure if any of you have let your children keep small pets that you know much of the care will end up in you hands.  At least that's the way it's worked around here.  So, one evening, not so long ago, while checking on our three stooges, I discovered four very small, very pink new additions to the family.  Mother and fathers and babies seemed to be doing just fine, but when I looked in on them only two short hours later, it was quite the contrary.  The only way I can describe it is to steal a line from a popular war movie, "the horror, the horror."  Four babies were now three babies, two of which were not in the best condition.

What do I do?  No, it was more like, OH MY GOD WHAT DO I DO?  Flash back to other nightmares of resuscitating gold fish, performing CPR on a hamster and holding the ear back of a vomiting dog left me temporarily immobilized.  Within seconds, however, I regained my composure and went into action.

Surely, Curly would care for her own babies, right?  So I separated the boys from the mama and her young ones.  Which is how they are housed to this day, and how they will forever be -- separate.

Only the one healthy baby of the three survived, and he/she/it is thriving.  It's been named Sammy (for Sammy Sosa, of course), but it's too soon to know if it's boy or a girl.  (Uh oh, dj v.)

Becky has yet to show interest in a small pet of her own.  Maggie the dog seems to keep her satisfied.  If, however, she ever does, I have a nice, young house plant that would love to call her bedroom home.  That little life needs love too.

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