Spring Break time came around and we got the usual call. Would MG and I pet sit Buddy the Golden Doodle for two weeks while our Second Son and his family went to Florida? Sure we would. We’re dog people, and Buddy is adorable. We love having him visit Grandma’s Pet Camp.
Then we got the text. Not a call, a text. Would we also be willing to critter sit Oliver, the Princess’s cute little pet hamster?
Oh. Um. Critter sit a little, uh, rodent? In our nice, clean, vermin-free house? Oh, boy. Well now, how could we possibly refuse to take care of our elder granddaughter’s cute little hamster? So, okay, sure. We’d. Love. To.
Taking care of Oliver fell to me, of course. Why was I not surprised at that?
Second Son arrived with both pets on Palm Sunday after church. When we opened the door, Buddy rushed in first, tail wagging, obviously excited and happy to see us. After running around the house to check everything out, he proceeded to chew on his toy pork chop. He hadn’t yet figured out he wasn’t going to sunny Florida with the family. Soon he would realize he was staying in frigid Michigan with Grandma and Grandpa where he would be spoiled rotten. As the grandpuppy, being spoiled rotten was his natural right.
