Respite Weekends

Occasionally we have what’s known as a “respite weekend”.  There’s a few days where Bethany goes and stays the weekend at “Miss Kim and Mr. Terry’s house”.

It’s a chance for us to live a normal life.  No need to chain the refrigerator door, no need to lock the window locks I’ve installed on the cupboard doors, no need to deadbolt ourselves into the house.  For a while there I had the dead-bolt locks installed backwards so we’d use the key to lock ourselves in the house.  We were never robbed and I can only assume its because even would-be criminals were puzzled by a home with the locks installed backwards. 

Its amazing how quick and easy lunch is when you don’t have to eye four corners of a room and you have two hands and a relaxed attitude with which to make a sandwich.  No floaters in your soda, no one stealing your chips, no half-eaten pickles left on your plate.

She loves the outdoors at her weekend respite and finds life on an Alpaca ranch to her liking.  Something interesting happens when she nears the pasture though; all the animals from the entire field come running at a full-tilt to exactly three-quarters length of the pasture where they abruptly stop, huddle, and begin to bleat out a bizarre, nasal-toned bleat.  They seem to be responding to some irresistible aura that can only be emanating from Bethany.  Only the youngest cria (baby Alpaca) dare come closer to the wire.  The adults all stand in a huddle and the young ones venture a few yards nearer.  Nothing is said by her, no movement, no special air – just an acute awareness by the animals that something special is afoot.

She thinks it funny – I think it’s amazing, largely because I know Bethany can’t see that far and yet she seems to know exactly what’s going on.  Bethany Doolittle, talking to the animals.


  1. I hope the respite weekend is enjoyed by all, including Bethany.


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