Alice Dryden (huskyteer) wrote,
Alice Dryden

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Small Things

I thought when I acquired my gerbils that they'd be a constant fund of funny stories for you. This wasn't the case; they shred, they eat, they look cute and make me happy, but they don't do much worthy of note. You might have forgotten I even had any - and now I'm telling you that one of them probably isn't going to last much longer.

I noticed when I was cleaning them out last night that Pin - the grey one - was less lively than usual, and when I picked him up he was slightly cool to the touch. Having had gerbils in the past I was rather expecting a corpse in the morning; since he was still hanging in there but obviously poorly, I registered with the vet in the next street and made an appointment after work.

Pin was so out of it that I was able to take him out in the waiting-room and hold him in my hands, which he'd never normally allow. The couple sitting next to me swapped places as the woman was frightened he was a rat. Tsk.

We were seen by a lovely Australian vet who was terribly kind to us both. She explained that it was very hard to tell what might be wrong with such a small creature - which I well knew - and said "I just want you to be prepared for the fact that the little guy probably isn't going to make it", at which point it all got a bit too Rolf Harris and I started blubbing.

I have had enough gerbils to know that when one is sitting with its fur looking all ruffled and its eyes half-shut, breathing rapidly, it's very probably not worth paying £20 for an injection of fluids and a course of antibiotics.

But I did, of course.

Now I'm just waiting.
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