As Hannah’s little brother Sam approaches his 2nd birthday, he continues to do his mission work in the garret household, helping Hannah to heal from her previous trauma (the latest: he’s trying to teach her how to cuddle), and reminding me to laugh, every day. Today he was profiled in The Fluffington Post. Click here to see our Sam.
A little over a week ago, I had to go to New York for my late mother‘s memorial service. I left Hannah and Sam alone overnight with two automatic timed feeders. The evening before my trip, I set the feeder timers so that I could test them both to see if they would deliver food at the appropriate times and amounts of Hannah’s and Sam’s twice daily meals.
When the clock struck “food time,” the feeders made a whirring sound before spitting out kibble into the bowls. At first, Hannah and Sam ran for dear life. But then they became intrigued: food. I’d heard from friends that setting the amount of food to be dispensed from the feeders could be tricky, and it was. Hannah’s hypoallergenic kibble, which Sam also eats by default, is larger than the recommended feeder size. So I set the timer to deliver a larger amount to make up for the deficiency in output. It worked fine overnight. However, in the morning, just before I was to leave, I walked by one of the feeders and it suddenly dumped an extra quarter cup of kibble into its bowl.
Hannah is a grazer by nature while Sam eats anything available; this is the reason why I originally had to initiate timed feedings, to control Sam’s weight. This meant sneaking Hannah food behind Sam’s back, since she wouldn’t eat her meal in one sitting. As I looked at the timed feeders releasing more food against my orders, I let it go. It would be twenty-four hours, I told myself, and Sam would be well-fed and Hannah would need to learn to be there to eat, ready or not. (When I returned from my trip, it seemed all was well.)
Meanwhile, I think Sam’s stardom has gone to his head. He won’t stop gazing at himself in the mirror.