Volio, Volio, Wherefore art thou Volio?

While we were in Colorado the boys discovered a furry friend in the window well. Their first descriptions to us were that they had found a very fat mouse, and that he was stuck in the well.  Upon closer inspection, we determined that it was a vole. I never knew it would be so cute.  I did, however, know that voles were destructive.  

Over the next week, the boys took care of their pet. They gave it a name, Volio. They fed it dried corn, fresh tomatoes, pears, apples and greens. He seemed to be delighted. He was not afraid, but readily ate whatever was put down the window well. After a while, however, Volio was no where to be found. He had tunneled away. It was quite unfortunate. He was the ideal pet. Cute and furry, but totally independent. I’m sure Volio was happy when we fed him, but he didn’t care if we forgot, went away all day long, or didn’t clean his cage. He wasn’t picky, he’ll never go to the vet, get shots, or need a new toy.  He didn’t bark, or claw furniture. We were lucky to have him in our lives, but he passed out of it just as easily as he came, with no drama whatsoever.  I’ll miss you Volio.  If you were better for the yard, I might  consider keeping you for real. Alas, wherefore art thou Volio?

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