July 31, 2010: A bear and a sloth

Gavin and I were on our own today since Stacy was up north for a funeral. Rest in Peace, Great Aunt Vernice. I would have liked to go to pay my respects and be there with Stacy, but there really is no way a one year old is going to sit still during a Catholic funeral service. I only met Vernice twice but I am so glad that I did get to meet her. Every year she was always the first person we'd get a Christmas card from and she sent it addressed to Stacy and me. You know, like we're an actual couple. And then when Gavin was born she sent a card congratulating us. Gavin got to meet her, too, and she adored him. For his first birthday she sent him a birthday card with a bear on it and $5 in it (old people love to send cash through the mail). We never did get a chance to thank her. She died so soon after his birthday.

So instead of a funeral, I took Gavin to see bats. More specifically, Laura and I took Gavin to see bats. And greyhounds. And a sloth. And some flying squirrels. Even more specifically, we went to the Cranbrook Institute of Science for the Great Lakes Bat Festival, which celebrates, well, bats. While bats might seem like an odd animal to celebrate, they're actually really cool. They have a bad reputation because of Dracula and rabies and nighttime. But they're really insect eating machines. Mosquitoes are one of their favorites and any animal who slurps up thousands of bugs a night is A-OK with me.

Gavin really liked the dogs, which is not surprising, and shouted "dog" and "doggie" over and over and over again. He says "dog" with more gusto than any other word or word-like sound in his vocabulary. He babbles softly to him self frequently but when he hears or sees a dog it's shout time. The reason the dogs were there in the first place is because ReGAP (Retired Greyhounds As Pets) had a booth there. A volunteer came over with a dog and let Gavin pet him. The dog's head was about level with Gavin's stroller, which was perfect for petting. Thankfully Gavin didn't try any of his crazy animal "petting" stunts, like when he kneads the skin on Jasper's head with one fist while pinning his neck with the other. Pulling cat fur out is fun, too. As is yanking on dog collars, especially the jangly tags. Gavin's Aunt Laura has a greyhound named Emma. In fact, Emma is from ReGAP. She turns 14 tomorrow. Laura has had Emma since she was two years old. Gavin has gotten to meet her several times and while at first she was disinterested, as Gavin has gotten more mobile he's started freaking her out. She's an old lady. He's an insane pint size human who lurches zombie-like around the house and screeches in a language that sounds like a mix between German, Swedish, and something tribal and perhaps yet undiscovered. When he visits, probably all Emma thinks about is how brittle her bones are.

Having never seen a bat before, I think Gavin was a little confused at first in the Bat Zone. The rooms are relatively dark and the cages are lit with red bulbs, presumably to mimic the whole nocturnal thing. So it was hard to see even if you knew that you were looking for bats, and of course Gavin was not. He was equally fascinated with the fake greenery hanging from the ceiling and his own stroller, which was soon abandoned because it was a tight squeeze in there. I ended up carrying Gavin and hoisting him up so he could see. This resulted in what I would imagine a broken collar bone feels like. But once he saw the bats flitting about he quickly realized what he was seeing: flying dogs. He wasted no time announcing what species was being observed in the Bat Zone, lest the other people there not be as quick.

The sloth was also a dog to him, and a complete surprise to us. I expected to see bats and bats only, but for whatever reason the Bat Zone contains a sloth that Laura said is named Mo. She said it was in/on one of the many pages of bat-related literature we were given to accompany our visit to Cranbrook. Thankfully we arrived during one of Mo's active periods. And by active I mean that he went from hanging upside down with his giant toenails on the far size of his cage to hanging upside down in the middle of his cage where there was a basket filled with food. We got to watch him eat a strip of yellow squash. One of the Bat Zone ladies told me that his food intake is carefully monitored since his digestion is so slow. She also pointed out that he uses a litter box in the corner of his cage, thereby qualifying him to be an indoor pet. She then said that when he goes to the bathroom it is really, really stinky, thereby disqualifying him to be an indoor pet. (I am, of course, joking about keeping a sloth as a pet. I have a long history of decrying primates as pets). So yeah, sloths are awesome.

Also, as a heads up for anyone thinking about visiting the Bat Zone: it smells very strongly of pee. Like a hundred open diaper pails. Okay, maybe not that bad. But pee city, for sure. And it was not at all Gavin's fault this time.