Rest in Peace, Little Friend

Sammy the Gerbil is dead. I am in shock. Remember, this is the rodent who survived an eye-gouging by our cat, being crunched underfoot by me, a coma, the self-amputation of his rear leg, the yellowing of his fur, and a sudsy bath (animal experts have laughed at such a suggestion). He was thriving despite these things, and had recovered both emotionally and physically from all of these challenges to have full mobility and a great caged-life. But my wife called me this evening to tell me the very sad news, and I spiralled. A slow-motion montage of the key events from his life spun through my mind like an iPhoto slide show set to music.

Sammy was one of Marshall's birthday presents last year. He got him a few weeks early--simply by happenstance. We were at a pet store and I was enduring one of my wife's legendary pouts for a puppy, when I tried to distract her with a rodent. I noticed a white gerbil feverishly digging at the glass of his aquarium and I remarked how much he looked like Marshall. Instantly, both boy and mom fell in love with the little thing, and a few minutes later I found myself ringing up $70 worth of gerbil merchandise at the check-out counter.

Marshall's birthday is tomorrow--and his gerbil friend lived just one day short of seeing his master turn six. He would have wanted to be here for this day, but instead, it will be his burial day.

Tonight, after the kids were in bed, my wife and I gathered around his petrified body to remove him from his little home. And as I reached in, my hand double-bagged in plastic sandwich wrap, I felt his stiff little form in rigor mortis. Paula held open a ziploc sandwich bag, and we sealed Sammy inside. Then we put the bag inside an empty plastic mini-donut container, and taped it shut.

We haven't been able to bring ourselves to make the arrangements, but it will be a small gathering--just family. Please respect our privacy at this time as we heal. In lieu of flowers, we ask that monies be given to the Stuart Little Prosthetics Fellowship, in hopes that little limbs and toes might some day be available to rodents like Sammy, who only want to run and scratch and tunnel.