Not Working....

This is so depressing. I have to resist the urge to destroy my routine, stop getting sleep, and be totally unproductive...to stay up late...even to drink! I can't leave Lucas in his father's loving but incapable care. He's growing up and needs stimulation and also, hygiene in the morning, neither of which Daddy is willing to provide without lots of guidance and prodding.

The point is that something bad has happened to me...my teaching contract hasn't been renewed. In hindsight, it had to be this way. Well, at least, one could easily have predicted it would be this way. My boss, who has many human traits, did reveal, in a kind of postmortem...."I knew, but I couldn't tell you." In retrospect, I see she has known for a very long time, longer than her innocent comment indicated, because she had long stopped asking me to attend the gifted ed pow-wow in CT which she had been touting in the beginning. (Good...I didn't know how I was going to pull that off with a one year old, anyway.) In the beginning, she put so much faith in me, but after just a couple of short weeks, she had left me almost entirely to my own devices. She revealed that her "outside evaluator of the program" had made the cold calculation that I didn't have enough experience in the field to be the optimal permanent candidate (which is probably true.) I was hired mid-year in a desperate attempt to fill a vacant position for which those with gifted qualifications were simply not applying. (Apparently, there were two women with small children who DID have gifted qualifications, but because they only wanted part-time hours, they were turned down. I guess what happened is I just kept the seat warm for one of them, while my own child suffered :( She also said she needs someone with more "expertise in math and science because that is the direction this position is headed in." I don't believe I was fired or terminated for cause, but it's true I've been sometimes very depressed about the direction of my job, which probably has showed. I used the postmortem discussion as a self-proclaimed "venting session," to complain about how hard it's been to coordinate with other teachers due to their own unwillingness or inability to hand me a lesson plan. Moreover, I've been depressed about not getting enough time with Lucas, about his development without me. I have also become addicted to my measly paycheck, and come to believe I need this stupid paycheck, even though it is clear that I cannot live on it, anyway. Finally, my ears have at long last become inured to the yelling of inordinately noisy middle schoolers (I mean, I have been sufficiently deafened to get through the day with eighth graders yelling in my ear), and I have come to believe that I actually enjoy the adventure of having hundreds of them around daily...well, students and other teachers (my neighbors.) I actually like the work, when I don't have to worry about Lucas (or self-flagellate for ignoring him), or worry about whether or not I am being negatively evaluated because of the absence of any feedback.

I was composed during the meeting about not renewing my contract with my supervisor and the principal of the school, but when my supervisor (whom I rarely ever even see anymore) and I returned upstairs to the lair where I conduct my business, I exploded with blubbering. She has always been a sweet and sympathetic ear when it comes to personal issues...at least, when she is not putting on the facade...

Boy, does this really ruin my spring break. For one thing, I might have justified spending money to actually go someplace before, if even to Massachusetts or North Carolina by car. But now, even the gas and the Hotwire hotel are going to be expenses I simply can't pay. Also, since Tom won't want to go, it will be tough by myself with Lucas, or worse yet, with my mother and Lucas (she wouldn't go, though.)

Tom will have to start paying for things again, by the way. I wonder what his job prospects are, really... especially when he is too depressed and unwilling to look!

Man, you know I really am getting depressed when I randomly google the string of name on my student's email address and come up with her myspace page, where she lies and says she is 19 years old. She's really 13. Ugh. What is life coming to?

Is it worth it to have "a life", i.e. a job and pseudo-purpose, if it is so clearly temporary and meaningless??? What is the point of considering a new way of existence, no matter how tempting, such as becoming a "gifted educator"? My supervisor/boss actually put the crux of it really succinctly when she stood in my doorway (for all around to hear) saying, "Boy, sometimes life just opens doors for you....and them slams them in your face!" (Was this meant to be comforting?)

I'm really crying over the job market for teachers as much as anything else. I am "damaged goods" and have been for a few years. What's more, new teachers are graduating with new requirements...ALL NEW teachers in Pennsylvania are now required to have special education certification, according to my supervisor yesterday.

Working

Mostly, I switched to Facebook as my preferred medium of mindless self-expression! Well, it's become mindless, because my real self-expression now takes place during actual face-to-face encounters. This is because I have gotten A JOB.

Who was the wiseguy who actually liked my last post? It was a heartfelt post full of love for my baby, but I realize it was crap! So, that person is quite the joker.

Well, I could use a little more time to discuss my son. I have gone from maternal bliss to working 9 hours a day and keeping him in daycare, because his father is basically unable and unwilling to take care of him. Daycare is a very mixed experience. Diseases spread through it like wildfire. Between it and my job at a school, we have been continuously sick from January, when I started the job, till a few days ago, with about one week's respite. My son has even had to go to the emergency room for croup, and has developed chronic ear infections as a result of a constantly runny nose. He still has infected ears. The doctors are waiting a while rather than rushing to give an antibiotic. I go to the doctor's for him or myself on average once every two weeks to weekly.

I am too exhausted to stay awake....more later....

There's been so much happening that I can't even keep track. Since my last post, I was pregnant and had a child. He is the most amazing person ever. I am bad about keeping track of things.... video, photos, etc. (well, bad at organizing.) Where can I start? Today. We walked. I finally figured out a way to turn the Peg Perego Skate stroller backwards. That thing is a dream to operate but crappily made, and stuff sticks or falls off all the time. My son is so cute!!!

There's no way to explain. He just has the best smile, and he smiles a lot. He's got these amazing curls. He's clever and determined. He loves his toy doggie. He loves his Omama (my mother) and calls for her when we are in random places. He is strong, yet super cuddly. He is chubby but energetic and a great crawler. He is hypercurious and never forgets a thing he has learned. He's so stubborn that sometimes it's annoying, but overall it's great that he is self-protective. He can say "takoo" for "thank you" and though he can't talk to people, he always engages people with his bag of tricks...waving, sticking out his tongue, smiling, shaking their hand, or giving something to them as a present.

He is loving and loves to swim and play with his boat, his toys...and has a great imagination. He is fascinated by books and all kinds of stories. He craves love and is easily soothed.

I am preserving this online because I am painfully aware that computers are very vulnerable to breaking down, getting smashed, getting stolen, or getting viruses. More later.

US Chess Championships a Demonstration of Mafia Mentality

This arrangement of the US Chess Championships in Oklahoma and low prizes are insulting enough to chess players. Then the Oklahoma chess mafia inserts their pals in the championship as qualifiers. The fact that the Oklahoma champion, not even a senior US Master, is a "wild card" while legitimately qualified player, International Master Bryan Smith, is passed over, is shameful. (I think Ron Burnett also qualified when Smith did, but I'm not certain.) Smith qualified through the US Masters Championship, which was supposed to have been a qualifier for the US Championship, at the time. Later, the single qualifier tournament (which took place in OKLAHOMA a few weeks ago) was proclaimed the only qualifier and the previous qualifier was ignored.

To think that a legitimately qualified player who actually wanted to play was passed over for the championship is very capricious by the organizers. The majority of top GMs who qualified by rating turned down the invitation, by the way. The reasons are thus: 1. the prizes are low and insulting, and may not even justify a trip to Oklahoma and over a week off work. 2. this championship will not be a qualifier for the FIDE World Championship Zonal.

To add insult to injury, Smith will have the opportunity to fight for his qualification one more way- through an online Tournament of State Champions (he's the champion of Pennsylvania)....but this tournament is determined by THREE MINUTE BLITZ GAMES. What genius came up with this format?

Last year, there was talk of bringing the tournament to Philadelphia prior to its having been sold to the chess mafia in Oklahoma. (That's what it seems like- a medieval fiefdom.) Proposed prizes were bigger in Philadelphia. Overall, the prizes, location, and format were much preferable to the championship which ended up taking place at a truck stop in a suburb of Tulsa. Pitiful. The US Chess Federation turned down the Philadelphia bid because the Berrys had cash in hand (about HALF the prize fund of the proposed Philadelphia tournament.) Sponsors had yet to be found in Philadelphia, but since the project had the Mayor's informal support, the success in finding a sponsor(s) was more or less assured. There was a time element involved...but who knows what else, or if someone's palms were greased. Goichberg was President of the USCF, and it's not clear where his allegiances lie, if he has allowed the above-mentioned travesties of chess to occur.

Dick Dawkins is a cool dude

I'm the "DEVIL'S SPAWN"... and joined Atheist Blogroll

That reminds me....the woman who started me out playing cello, Gladys Helland, was my orchestra teacher from fourth grade through high school. I remember particularly in about eighth grade (the time I wrote about below), those few bouts of my rebellion against repression appeared in the form of rebellion in orchestra class, because it was the one place I felt comfortable around others. I was the principal cellist and a star musician. Ironically, it was also the one place where I was also being judged by my teacher, for my combination of Judaism and naughtiness. In particular, one day I grabbed a bunch of water bugs from a sink backstage, and released them onto the stage during orchestra rehearsal! Ms. Helland called me a "heathen" and "the Devil's spawn"!!! She was a religious Lutheran from Minnesota, who was trained in music as an expression of her religiosity, not trained in religion in order to have an outlet to express her musicality (like I was, somewhat.)

I knew that Ms. Helland needed me in her orchestra, and I was not in the slightest fazed by her insults. They did not hurt me, because I was, in fact, an atheist. I marveled at her weirdness, because those statements revealed someone more religious than I had ever met. But, I didn't tell my parents, and even if I had, I am sure they would have sided with her. After all, I released bugs onstage during rehearsal!

My confidence remained high and the experience was in no way traumatizing, because Ms. Helland and I had a good working relationship through the years. I am sure she had forgiven me by the end of high school, when she awarded me a music scholarship. It's all just a frame of reference....we had a different frame of reference-- hers was religious, mine was not. Since then, I have become a teacher, and in a similar situation, I would have reprimanded a student, but not using such colorful language! I would have been a bit tougher, and probably gotten the student suspended! So, in fact, her words were quite harmless and amusing to me.

Yet, the hidden danger in this story is that rhetoric like "devil's spawn" comes to be interpreted so literally by some Christians. It's ideas like this, or calling Jews "heathens," which resemble the idea that Jews are evil because they killed Jesus, or so the story goes... It's ideas like this which cause violent tendencies of some religious adherents to express themselves quite literally against the objects of the insults. Witness what is happening in Iraq! I feel this is an expression of Christian paternalism and general self-righteous sentiment against "heathens," or non-believers in Christianity. Therefore, in this way, any such religious rhetoric is dangerous.

The focus of many of these blogs seems to be that religion is dangerous, because religions (like, say, Catholicism), will never freely admit hypocrisy. Clearly, my teacher, Ms. Helland, was a sort of hypocrite. Institutions which create policy and set a tone for their adherents are largely responsible for violence by members, whether by direct cause or by negligence.

Well...I joined the Atheist Blogroll....hence the list of fellow atheists' sites at right. Enjoy.

ATHEISM

I just sent an e-mail requesting to join the atheist blogroll. This is because I'm about as devout an atheist as you can get. The whole topic of religion has always fascinated me, and I believe that some people who are religious are actually good people. I am a good person....but I just am not religious, and never have been.

The Blogroll lists the Atheist Jew blog. That's not me, exactly, but sort of. I wasn't raised in a Jewish home. My father was Jewish (his family came here in the early 20th century from Germany), and my mother was a Holocaust refugee, who fled Austria for New York in 1938. She was half-Catholic, on her mother's side, so technically, I am not Jewish. The Atheist Jew blog defines Judaism: "A Jew is any person whose mother was a Jew, or any person who has gone through the formal process of conversion to Judaism." I would add that a "Jew" could be any person who would have been so defined by the Nazi race laws. There are those Jews that do not consider themselves Jewish, but would have suffered persecution nonetheless. That anti-Semitic persecution is very real to me, because I've experienced a minor version of it, and I am aware that my mother's family experienced the most intense version.

So, I have no problem with people that identify with a certain religion because, like them, I am not a practicing Jew but see value in identification with that religious group. In this way, to me, religion is mainly a social institution. All religions strike me thus. Even Fundamentalist Christianity seems like a fairly logical life choice if you live in a place like the Deep South, where there is better socialization for religious Christian people. Indeed, a lot of the dialogue and culture focuses on religion. So, if that were my whole frame of reference, I may have felt the same way.

That is the conundrum of religion. Religion provides the most banal, mundane social institutions for humanity. That is the dark secret of religion, which religious people rarely freely admit.

Growing up, I never regretted being an atheist, but I regretted not understanding the religion of those around me. I learned several languages by high school, and had traveled around Europe. I felt as though religious people were just like foreigners, whose culture was yet to be understood by me. This understanding was especially important to me because the great majority of those around me were religious Christians, at least to some extent. My friends and other peers were mostly nominally Christian. The idea that people like me were motivated by religion baffled me. I also felt excluded from social institutions, and wanted to understand how to manipulate them.

As a young child (like when I wrote the blogs below), I was musical. Church was a great outlet for my musicality. I actually sang in a Catholic choir at St. Catherine of Siena church. Church music has always deeply affected me, and it was exhilarating to sing in a choir. I frequently played cello in church musical performances like Messiah and Noah's Flood.

More later......

MY NEW PROJECT- 8th Grade Journals Online!

I am going to post all 33 of my 8th grade journals on this blog. I wrote them in the school year of 1983-1984. I was only 11 years old when I went into the 8th grade. The journals are pretty hilarious. They're ignorant and yet, extremely pretentious at the same time. I hate to characterize myself stereotypically as a "JAP," but I guess I was. I was spoiled, and loved possessions and the finer cultural offerings of New York. I had few friends, but the few I did have were pretty creative, so there is some reference to pranks I pulled. Some highlights of the journals are "Breeding My Gerbils," "My Favorite Spectator Sport," "Dear President Reagan," and a few other gems.

As someone who has taught 8th grade English, I find myself wishing my own students possessed some of the descriptive skill and vocabulary I'd commanded in 8th grade. Overall, though, I can't help notice how infantile are the emotions displayed in my journals, compared to those of 8th graders today. I am not sure if it's because it was a different era (the early 80s), or because I was so much more immature than my classmates. I seem to have no motivation to do anything but fulfill simple childish fantasies, like getting a puppy. Only my descriptions of my New York haunts and a trip to Paradise Island hint at somewhat of a cosmopolitan existence.

In general, I was quite depressed through 8th grade. I didn't like to bathe. I was chubby. I was shy. I had no boyfriends. (Bryan notes that I was only 11 years old...true, I was younger than everyone else in 8th grade, but had the same pressures on me to grow up as my classmates did...I just couldn't deal with them.) 8th grade was a horrible year for me! I really wrote way too little about my personal issues, and way too much about teddy bears and animals. The journals display minimal self-reflection. Yet, that could also have been because the audience was old Ms. Ramsay, my English teacher. These journals were written merely to fulfill an English class assignment at Eastern Junior High School in Greenwich, CT. I chose neutral topics, and got the one-page journal assignments out of the way as easily as possible. By the way, in the second half of the year, I started getting D's in algebra, and otherwise disappointing my parents greatly. If someone had simply explained that I needed to pass algebra in order to become a veterinarian, I probably would have done my homework once in a while, judging from these journals!

(journal 1) Nijel Cyril De Slatse: The All-American College Patriot

Nijel Cyril De Slatse is a fascinating person. He was voted fencer of the year in his hometown of Gilroy, California, the garlic powder capital of the world. He has visited Disney Land [sic] 34 times. He was elected "Most Devoted Member of Clean-Up Crew" two years in a row at his home town high, Gilroy High. He has written to Dayton College, Wheaton College, Vassar College, and Fordham University. He was created by Janet Powers and I about 2 years ago. We first created Nijel to make people believe that he really existed. Some people believed us! Nijel actually wrote to some colleges. He received one reply saying that he was one of the most talented young students who had written to Dayton College so far, had written to Dayton College so far, and went on to ask him if he would please come to one of four seminars on entering Dayton College, being given at the Stamford Howard Johnson's. Nijel Cyril De Slatse is fun, and I hope Janet and I do more with him soon.

(journal 2:) My Favorite Place in the Whole World

Even though I was only there for 9 days, my favorite place in the whole world is Paradise Island, Nassau, Bahamas. I stayed at the Paradise Beach Inn. From the moment I got there it really did seem like paradise. When we got there we went up to our rooms. The only bad part of the vacation was that I had to share a room with my bratty older sister, Laura, who is 20. Our room had a balcony. It was right next to beautiful palm trees. There were ripe and unripe coconuts underneath them. Every morning I would wake up, very early, and go downstairs. I would usually take my sister with me. We would play shuffleboard or ping-pong. It was beautiful. There were a board and a table right on the sand, and they were shaded by many palm trees. Then we would eat breakfast in the outdoor cafe, right on the beautiful beach. Then we would go for a swim on the beach or in the pool (I preferred the beach.) The sand of the beach was pure white and extremely fine. The water was light green and clear, if you were in water up to your chest, you could see your feet. It was always the perfect temperature in the water. I didn't burn the entire time I was there. There were no rocks, crabs, fish, or seaweed in the water. There was a coral reef at one end of the beach. The wonderful things about Paradise Beach could fill this notebook, but I have to finish.

(journal 3:) What Will I Be Like When I Am an Adult?

I sometimes wonder what my life will be like when I am an adult. I think I am either going to become a cellist, bassoonist, lawyer, or linguist. I don't think that I will be a very agressive [sic] person, I never really have been. If I can't get one of the jobs listed above, I think I would want to be an ordinary housewife with two or three children. I would probably belong to a choral society and art society or two, maybe be on the board of a local symphony orchestra. I would want to get married and have kids even if I wasn't a housewife. My dream house is a dream apartment. At my camp, Camp Mohawk, I met a girl named Jennifer Watts. She lives in New York, and has a nine room apartment, with an upstairs and a downstairs (which are fairly expensive in New York.) She actually goes to school with Tatiana von Furstenburg, Diane von Furstenburg's daughter! I definitely want to live like that when I grow up-- very rich. But what if I never marry and I end up poor? Well, let's hope for the best! I hope if I never marry to get rich, I have a really good career to get rich on my own.

(journal 4:) Eigth [sic] Grade So Far

So far, eigth [sic] grade has been very good. There is one major setback, though. In the first week of school, I had about two hours of homework every night. I think that's very unfair. Last year, by the end of the year, we did not have nearly as much homework as in the first week of school in eigth [sic] grade. This week I have almost four hours of homework every night. I am not slow at homework, either. I think Eastern Junior High should ease the transition between seventh grade work and eigth [sic] grade work. So far, I've had no trouble opening my locker, unlike last year. I do not like having my locker downstairs. Almost every single one of my classes are upstairs. So far, most of my teachers seem pretty fair. I am in orchestra, so I can't have study halls. That annoys me, since I have so much homework. It seems as though most of last year's seventh grade is on Cluster 3. I like having most of my friends in my classes. It has been apretty good year so far, and I hope it continues this way.

(journal 5:) Young Artists' Philharmonic

Young Artists' Philharmonic (YAP), is a group of junior high and high school age students who live in the Stamford area and want to be in an orchestra other than school. There are also the younger orchestras Young People's Symphony (YPS) and Young String Ensemble (YSE). This year they are adding a Young Flute Ensemble (YFE). This is my third year of being in one of the orchestras. My first year I was playing cello in the Young People's Symphony. I was in both the Young People's Symphony and the Young Artists Philharmonic in my second year. This year the music is simpler than last year. Our orchestra consists of about 100 students. We have all four instrument groups in our orchestra. I love playing in an orchestra where all the children are at a high level, because they sound professional. We give three or more concerts a year. Last year we played in the Stamford Town Center and in Stamford's Pink Tent Festival. Last year the Young Artists Philharmonic went to Montreal. I decided not to go, but when everyone got back they said what fun it had been and I wished I had gone. This year I am an assistant teacer under Miss Hymes, the conductor of the Young People's Symphony, and Mrs. DiFranco, the conductor of the Young String Ensemble. The conductor of the Young Artists' Philharmonic is Salvatore Princiotti, who conducts the advanced group of the Greenwich Arts Camp, teaches orchestra in Darien, and gives private lessons to many students. He is a fine conductor.

(journal 6:) My Classes

So far, all my classes are pretty good. I think my advisor base teachers, Mr. Bernier and Mr. Micik, seem really nice. For first period, I have science with Miss Frasier. She seems like a good teacher, and I'm sure science will be interesting. Then I have social studies. I know that it's going to be a terrible class. I think the new critical thinking program is stupid. No one is learning anything at all. For one assignment, we had to write our hypothesis on how geography affected the South. Mr. Zboray said we could write anything. He handed them back, and many people got bad grades because their assignments were too long or too short, or they weren't what Mr. Zboray wanted. Our assignments are like that every night. You know about 3rd period English. Mrs. Hamm is an excellent algebra teacher. She explains everything fully, and is strict but fair. I have Mr. Kent for French. He may be a good teacher, but I don't like him at all. I had him last year too, and I don't think that's right. I wish I could take Latin. I like Home Arts, and Miss Oleksak is weird but nice. Orchestra is good, but Miss Helland is really weird. Gym is okay, but I don't like that we have to stay on the 7th grade curriculum (since I'm in orchestra.) So far, all my classes are pretty much fun.

(journal 7:) Breeding My Gerbils

I have two gerbils named Abaduscadabadusadusbusbaliusabuzzybabbaloobabbaloobabbalooandabuzzybabbaloo (Lil' Abner) and Baby Pompadour. As you can see, I named Abner when I was little. They are male and female, respectively. I'm not sure about it. They are adorable. Today I was thinking about putting them together and having a batch of tiny baby gerbils. There are some problems. Problem #1: I got Baby Pompadour from school, and there she got in a fight with her brother and chewed up his ear. I am not sure whether or not she would get along with Little Abner. He is helpless because he is so incredibly stout. Problem #2: I don't know whether or not Baby Pompadour would make a good mother. You can tell from observing her that she is very stupid. She is also very young. Problem #3: I'm not even sure of what sex the gerbils are. (Major problem.) I think that Lil' Abner is a male, and Baby Pompadour is a female, but I don't know. There are some good things, like I lowered Baby into Abby's cage, and they rubbed noses. I hope they get along.

(journal #8:) My Birthday

My twelfth birthday is coming up on October 1st. There are many things i want. I generally want teddybears and videogames but generally not real necessities. I am upset because I am not as excited as I used to be when I was younger, near my birthday. My heart used to leap when I thought about my birthday, and now I can't get a flutter. I still remember my sixth birthday. It was a wonderful birthday. I woke my mother at about 6:30 in the morning. We [went] upstairs, and the large dining room table was covered with gifts. Most of the gifts weren't important, but it still felt great. My second birthday [was] fun, too. My whole family was at my birthday party expecting cake. As soon as the cake came, I stuck my face inot it and started eating. I've seen movies of it. I hope I get psyched for my birthday soon.

(journal #9:) What do I Want My Child to Be Like?

I'm sure of what I want my child to be like. I want a girl, and I don't really want a boy, but whoever I have, I want them to have black hair, dark brown eyes, and a dark complexion. I want my child to be intelligent, but not overly intelligent. If I had a daughter, I would name her Cassandra, and if it were a boy, I would name him Mark.
I know what kind of parent I am going to be. I am going to be aggressive but still listen to my child's opinions. I want to be a loving parent, but I do not want to be always paying attention to my child, because (s)he would become attached to home, and would miss it too much if they went to camp or on a trip. Of course I am not planning to have a child soon, but it's funny to think about it.

(journal #10:) How I would Feel if I Found Out I Was Adopted

If I found out I was adopted, I would be very angry at my parents for keeping it from me. My mother had a ceserean [sic] operation that was scheduled for October 1st. I often wonder what my birthay would be if it weren't scheduled. I used not to sympathize with people who wanted to find their real mothers, but now I understand. A mother is much more important than a birthday, and I often wonder what my real birthday is. I don't know if I would look for my real parents. I don't think I would be courageous enough, because I would be afraid of what I might find. Children who look for their real parents are cruel to their adoptive parents, but if my parents told me I was adopted, when I am twelve, I would be very angry.

(journal #11:) My Favorite Spectator Sport

My favorite spectator sport is tennis. It's a lot of fun to watch. I especially like to watch John MacEnroe. I watched him play at Wimbledon, and I could hear the umpire, and not a sports caster. I heard every obscenity that John uttered. A couple of times I saw him throw his tennis racket down on the grass court. The officials couldn't decide whether he was thrusting the racket on the ground because he was angry or because he wanted to ruin the court. They decided he was just angry at himself. They fined him about seven hundred dollars for audible obscenities, so John stopped making his obscenities audible. You could see his lips moving while he was cursing to himself. After I watch John McEnroe [sic], I like to watch Ivan Lendl, because he's so polite. I really love tennis. It's aerobic exercise, but it's a lot more fun than running. I think I should take up tennis seriously.

(journal #12:) My Pets

In this journal entry, I will write about my three pets, Sailor, a male dog, and my gerbil mates, Lil' Abner and Baby Pompadour.
I bought Sailor at the Elmsford Dog Pound about four and a half years ago for twenty dollars. He was about to be put to sleep. He is adorable. He looks like a puppy because his head is so large ad his legs are so short. He has never bitten anyone, and is very sweet.
I got Lil' Abner about four years ago. His fur is incredibly soft. He is shaped exactly like a sphere. He only eats oily sunflower seeds.
Baby Pompadour is about eight months old. She is very sweet. She is thin and cute. She is very timid, and runs into the hole that she makes whenever someone opens her cage. She would never bite. I hope that one day Lil' Abner and Baby Pompadour have a batch of adorable baby gerbils.