Babies…we all love them don’t we? Human, bovine, feline, equine, canine… Why is every infant so dang cute? We’d love our babies even if they were as ugly as dirt, wouldn’t we? Or do we need those early memories to sustain us through the terrible twos, the trying threes and the tiring teens?
(My newest granddaughter, Josey Rose. :)
When my own children were young I can honestly say that I thought every age was the best. (Brain damage caused by sleep deprivation probably.) Infancy…when they’re as small as bunnies and entirely yours, curled up against your chest…that tiny fragrant bundle of love. There’s nothing better.
Then the fast track to learning when you can practically see them consuming knowledge. The teen years…when they grow into people…when they develop, if you’re really lucky, into your best friends. It’s all a miracle.
I’m pretttttty sure I won’t be giving birth to any more babies, but I still try to keep infants in my life. And come to think of it, I always have. When I was little I was constantly sporting scratches on my arms from the motherless bunnies, sparrows, and kittens that wandered onto the farm. Here’s my latest baby.
I call her Eclipse. I found her on the road on my way to my book signing a few weeks ago, then took in another kitten a couple weeks later so she wouldn’t be lonely. (And because I honestly thought she might chew my leg off if she didn’t have someone else to chase around. Turns out cats experience the terrible twos also…it just comes very early in life.)
This is L.A. Infinite Image at about two weeks of age. I call him Finnegan. Is he adorable or what? I brought him home about three months after this picture was taken. He was just as cute then. Now he’s going through the terrible twos. His head has grown disproportionately large compared to the rest of his body, and he chews on, paws at, or carries away everything he possibly can. Yesterday I found a saddle pad in the middle of the pasture. I didn’t even know he could reach it. He’s quite naughty. But I looooooove him.
And this is Sagacious Sage, age 22. He was once two also…and terrible. (I raised him. In fact, I had his mother for 28 years.) Now he’s wonderful, gorgeous, wise, and so dear it makes me tear up to think about him. On his back is Kyah Rose…who is two…and maybe sometimes…a little bit terrible. But mostly just terrific.
So I guess every stage of development is fun. What’s your favorite?