#mondays... am i right?

I called the RSPCA. the machine lady [who I named Joan] informed me that after recent budget cuts- they no longer do call outs. Then Joan began to list names and numbers of 24 hr emergency vets throughout Melbourne in alphabetical order. After writing out 6 numbers that are within a reasonable distance to where i live, I said "thanks Joan" and hung up [it was 5:32am and I talk to machine voices when I'm tired, stop judging me]

When I rang the first number, a real lady answered. She said that vets also don't really deal with this kind of - possum stuck in bathtub situation and that I had two options:

A- go online and report said situation to the Victorian wildlife rescue, put some fruit and water in the tub for Bambi [yes I named the possum, he was cute and fluffy and couldn't get out of the bath... And that was 5:17am] and wait to hear back from the humans that read reports...
B: get a blanket or rug, throw it on Bambi and scoop him up with two hands and carry him to the backyard- basically kidnap him, give him a cuddle and set him free.

Well, even though I'd already put fruit in the bath and was pretty much half way there on option A. I decided to go with the freedom and the cuddly. He must have been in there for a while already, as some crashing sound had woke me hours earlier...and i was determined to ignore it.
He was scared, I was loosing sleep-I think we both needed freedom and a cuddle.

It didn't exactly work like that. I'd thrown the blanket over him a few times without the bravery of acting on the cuddle part- which was imperative to the freedom. He realised he could attach himself to the blanket and just as I was trying to get brave, with my two hands on the blanket, he came out the top and I'd given him just enough effort for him to now get out of the tub.
He scurried and slipped on the top corner and fell to the floor. We both looked at wide open bathroom door... I throw the blanket over him, slammed the door shut and with my heart racing said out loud "I'm just trying to help you live your life Bambi!"
My courage came to me; I held him firm in my arms, while also trying to open the door and walk him down stairs and let him leave from under the blanket. I put it all on the ground and pulled the blanket from him. I'm sure he was shocked with gladness, I could see it in his big eyes. He was still for a moment and then moved slowly toward the tree, he was free ‪#‎byebambi ‬‪#‎happymonday‬

‪#‎ps‬ Lou he broke your pot plant, it's in pieces all over the bathroom ‪#‎sorry‬

#kidsilove

I never really know how to feel on camp. It's interesting. At the staff meeting the other night someone talked about Mondays [pick up day] I said "I'm glad I wasn't on pick up day this wk, nothing messes me up as much as seeing where they live does..."
I never knew I thought that way but its true.
You spend two, sometimes four weeks with these kids and later you can forget their filthy language, bad attitude and behavior

, the violence the exchange between themselves- that draws blood and leads to the emergency room. The hurt they inflict on each other, while at camp, which must have some lasting effect...

But I can't forget the smell of their house or the look of their father or step dad or "mums friend joe" and his beer gut, and him dressed in his best underwear at 2pm and how the sun reflects off his bald head as he slurs his words and asks me to read out the questions because the daylight is too bright, for him to read the form. And he makes excuse about why the kids clothes are in a garage bag instead of a suitcase like "the cat had kittens in the suitcase or ferrets ate a hole through it- YES FERRETS.
And as you walk away that child clutches your hand and wish that smell would stay with the house but it follows you in the garbage bag and you think to yourself "there must be more i can do!!"
Because you know that what you're walking away from is what this kid is coming back to...and that's only your experience at the front door."