In honor of Kanga

Over a month ago we lost our lovely gerbil, Kanga.  He was special.  Very vocal, he would squeak loudly if he didn't like how I was petting him or if I tried to remove him from his condo.   Once I had him out, he would stop and look around, almost as if he realized that things weren't so bad from a different perspective.  He was more like a cat, letting me pet his head and ears, his chest and back. 

He was ill for an evening.  I noticed that he was lethargic.  However, his fur was shiny.  Could that mean that he was still thriving?  Shiny fur, "bright" eyes, and good body temperature are three important things to look for in a healthy gerbil.  I held him for a long time and stayed awake past my bedtime to keep him company. I told him he'd be okay.  He must have a chance, I hoped.  As the evening went on I looked for any sign that he might be perking up.  Every once and a while, I'd notice his nose twitching.  I let him smell things around the house to see if it helped.  Then his eyes looked like they were becoming heavy and he was having trouble opening them.  Not a good sign. 

The next morning, Sunday, I peeked in his condo.  He was on the second floor and hiding in his plastic Golden Gate Bridge toy.  When I picked him up he felt colder than the night before.  I took him to the only vet nearby that was open, a PetSmart Banfield.  The vet couldn't determine anything.  I'm sure she knew as much about what was going on as I did.  We decided to let him have a Vitamin B (or maybe Vitamin C) shot to stimulate his appetite.  As I left the vet's office and checked out, the woman behind the counter told me that I was a good gerbil parent.  This made me want to cry.  I figured that, as a good human to my gerbil, I'd have to save him. I left PetSmart with some kitten formula and a liquid vitamin supplement. 

I got him home as quickly as possible and opened the top to his carrier.  He wasn't moving.  I held him and tried to get him to take some of the diluted formula.  No movement.  Most likely he died while I carried him out of the store.  It was absolutely heartbreaking. 

I get flashbacks of him motionless in his carrier, but I also remember the good things about him, like the fact that he preferred to step into my hands only if I held both together.  He loved his wheel.  When Matt and watched TV, he came up to the second floor of his condo and appeared to be staring at us.   He enjoyed attention and having people talk to him. 

He is missed.