Well, dear fellow FML'ers,
 
You do not know me except by references from my husband!  I am Rocky Coder,
and I am another fanatical convert to the little "fuzzy beans", (a term you
guys invented, that I adore).
 
My "hoomin' bean" hubby dearly wished for me to relate our adventures
rescuing the "Fredonia Fuzzies,", and up until now, I have let him, and you
guys down!  Please forgive me!  I am the only female tool and die maker
where I work, and I am under a considerable amount of stress and overtime.
Thank the Lord for the stress relief I receive from the babies and a VERY
special husband!
 
It all started when we discovered our only male, Ashlar, (Yes we are Anne
Rice fans) was diagnosed as older than we thought, and with insulinoma!
John was devastated, though he tried not to show it.  I tried to cheer him
up by telling him we could pick a new male kit from a nearby breeder.  We
could stay at this really cool bed and breakfast one block away, on the Ohio
River, and make an event of it!  He loved the idea!
 
Now Fate and the FML stepped in!  I work the 2nd shift and my dear hubby
works the first!  We miss each other terribly, on a daily basis!  So, he got
hooked on the FML to help him over missing me, bless his soul.
 
He called me at work, on night, wanting to meet me for my dinner (30 minutes
from an obviously generous company) and discuss a "very serious matter!"  Of
course, I agreed, even though I was afraid something was very wrong!
 
Most of you know the story, he had connected with a beautiful soul named
Troy Lynn who was desperate to find homes for a barnful of fuzzies!  John
asked if we could rescue some of these as opposed to spending a decadent
weekend picking out a baby that would probably get a home anyway!  One look
at his face, and his concern, and how could I refuse?
 
I told him, hey, it was his birthday gift, however he wished to spend it was
OK by me.  (We will overlook the fact here that it was tearing up MY
heartstrings as well!!!! I am the tough guy in this relationship)
 
So, equipped with maps, camping gear, a road plan, and people north of us
looking to meet us back in Cincinnati to further pass on adoptees, we
optimistically set off in a truck with a cappper.
[Posted in FML issue 1766]