Well, my dad caught wind of this and dropped by Poor Richard’s, made an offer of $30, and brought the bobcat to Lydia. She was surprised, delighted, and a little awed at the same time. She told us, incredulous, “I actually own the bobcat.”
My mom was perturbed because how could he put her in this spot? That thing wasn’t coming inside and that’s that, not on the porch, and not in the garage either. Nowhere, and she had to be the bad guy and a grandchild was involved, and NO we’re not making Val take that to her house either. That’s just wrong.
So he built a shelf in the window of the barn and put Bob on the perch—where Lydia can visit him and Bob can look out the window every day and not be bored. Other found bones are on the shelf now too–the little skulls and stuff they find, they put next to Bob.
I don’t even know what to say about it. Love, Val
Wow! That is one pitiful critter. I think it's sweet that your girl loves it, and even sweeter than your parents are such amazing softies.
Awwww… gotta love a grandpa that will buy his granddaughter a beat up old bobcat. I am in love with your family, Val.
This is so brilliant and perfect. And just when I think I can't love your family any more than I already do… :o)
You guys are sweet. You can see past the scruffy weirdness… but when I think about it, that's what I love about you girls and your families too, the real stuff. love, Val