This is the reason I was offline all day yesterday.
On Friday, January 25th, 2013, my beloved gerbil Squirrelflight passed away. We don't know exactly how old he was, because he was an adult when we adopted him from Pet Smart on August 26th of 2008 along with his brother Speedy. Squirrelflight was my gerbil; the one I picked out from the others. I thought he was a girl at first, so I named him Squirrelflight, but when I found out that he was male I had already named him. Squirrelflight was the biter. He nibbled on people's fingers as well as his favorite treat: a sunflower seed. So his nickname quickly became Gerbite. It was from the two words gerbil and bite, and it sounded like Squirrelflight, so it was perfect. Many gerbils turn on each other eventually, but not Gerbite and Speedy (my sister's gerbil). They lived in the same cage (which was basically a mansion for a gerbil) and got along perfectly. On Thursday the 24th (I had a day off of school on Friday) I went to a sleepover with some of my friends that aren't here on Chicken Smoothie. Now, I was the one who usually checks on the gerbils, feeds them, cleans their cage, and plays with them. They lived in my room, after all. So I fed them and everything before I left, and Gerbite was happy and playful. I gave him a treat and stroked his little head, then I set off. The day after when I came home, I didn't check on the gerbils. I figured they were alright because I wouldn't need to feed them and all until later in the evening, so I went on Chicken Smoothie. I am not sure when the end came for Gerbite, but around 9:00 (pm) or so I went into my room to feed them and clean their place. When I approached their cage, I was above, but then I saw the bottom half of Gerbite, stretched out in the bedding. I couldn't see the rest of him because two of their platforms were hiding him from me. I slowly leaned down so I could see him, my eyes following up his still body. Then I got to his head. His neck was torn open, and I could see ragged pink and red flesh poking out. It was a huge gash, perhaps as big as a five-year-old's kneecap. I only saw it for a moment, but the image imprinted itself onto my mind, and I can see his poor broken body whenever I close my eyes. I whipped around, screaming, and ran into the living room, where my parents and sister sprang to their feet while the show Shark Tank blared from the tv. I was in tears, and I had a hard time telling my family what had happened. Eventually I got these two words out: Gerbils, Gerbite. My dad rushed in while my mother tried to comfort me and my sister just sat there, staring at me blankly. Apon inspection from my dad, he figured that my beloved, playful gerbil died of natural causes, but that Speedy, with a brain the size a sunflower seed, did what gerbils do and gnawed on his lifeless brother. We buried Gerbite out in the backyard, and I cried the rest of the night. I will ever again see my adorable little Gerbite running up to the front of the cage, wondering if I have any treats for him. Never again will I feel his warm, fragile little body in my hands. Never again will I see him running on his wheel. I swear I'm tearing up as I'm writing this. I miss him so very much. At least there's still Speedy. I haven't lost a pet since Medea, my cat who died when I was very young, so I am unused to this kind of pain. I feel as if I am responable for Gerbite's death; that if I hadn't have gone to my friend's sleepover he might still be alive. But I know that that's not true, though I cannot help but feel as if it is. Goodbye and good night, Squirrelflight. I loved you so much, and I miss you incredibly.
Anyway, as always comments and critique are welcomed.
Edit;; In the book Where the Red Fern Grows there are two dogs: Old Dan and Little Anne. They're littermates. When Old Dan is killed by a cougar, Little Anne can't go on living without him, so she drags herself to his grave and dies. I believe that this very same thing is happening to Gerbite's brother, Speedy. Speedy is horribly depressed. He usually just sits in a corner sadly, and he has stopped eating. Even when I offer him a treat he turns away, so I'm worried that his time is coming soon. :'c
On Friday, January 25th, 2013, my beloved gerbil Squirrelflight passed away. We don't know exactly how old he was, because he was an adult when we adopted him from Pet Smart on August 26th of 2008 along with his brother Speedy. Squirrelflight was my gerbil; the one I picked out from the others. I thought he was a girl at first, so I named him Squirrelflight, but when I found out that he was male I had already named him. Squirrelflight was the biter. He nibbled on people's fingers as well as his favorite treat: a sunflower seed. So his nickname quickly became Gerbite. It was from the two words gerbil and bite, and it sounded like Squirrelflight, so it was perfect. Many gerbils turn on each other eventually, but not Gerbite and Speedy (my sister's gerbil). They lived in the same cage (which was basically a mansion for a gerbil) and got along perfectly. On Thursday the 24th (I had a day off of school on Friday) I went to a sleepover with some of my friends that aren't here on Chicken Smoothie. Now, I was the one who usually checks on the gerbils, feeds them, cleans their cage, and plays with them. They lived in my room, after all. So I fed them and everything before I left, and Gerbite was happy and playful. I gave him a treat and stroked his little head, then I set off. The day after when I came home, I didn't check on the gerbils. I figured they were alright because I wouldn't need to feed them and all until later in the evening, so I went on Chicken Smoothie. I am not sure when the end came for Gerbite, but around 9:00 (pm) or so I went into my room to feed them and clean their place. When I approached their cage, I was above, but then I saw the bottom half of Gerbite, stretched out in the bedding. I couldn't see the rest of him because two of their platforms were hiding him from me. I slowly leaned down so I could see him, my eyes following up his still body. Then I got to his head. His neck was torn open, and I could see ragged pink and red flesh poking out. It was a huge gash, perhaps as big as a five-year-old's kneecap. I only saw it for a moment, but the image imprinted itself onto my mind, and I can see his poor broken body whenever I close my eyes. I whipped around, screaming, and ran into the living room, where my parents and sister sprang to their feet while the show Shark Tank blared from the tv. I was in tears, and I had a hard time telling my family what had happened. Eventually I got these two words out: Gerbils, Gerbite. My dad rushed in while my mother tried to comfort me and my sister just sat there, staring at me blankly. Apon inspection from my dad, he figured that my beloved, playful gerbil died of natural causes, but that Speedy, with a brain the size a sunflower seed, did what gerbils do and gnawed on his lifeless brother. We buried Gerbite out in the backyard, and I cried the rest of the night. I will ever again see my adorable little Gerbite running up to the front of the cage, wondering if I have any treats for him. Never again will I feel his warm, fragile little body in my hands. Never again will I see him running on his wheel. I swear I'm tearing up as I'm writing this. I miss him so very much. At least there's still Speedy. I haven't lost a pet since Medea, my cat who died when I was very young, so I am unused to this kind of pain. I feel as if I am responable for Gerbite's death; that if I hadn't have gone to my friend's sleepover he might still be alive. But I know that that's not true, though I cannot help but feel as if it is. Goodbye and good night, Squirrelflight. I loved you so much, and I miss you incredibly.
Anyway, as always comments and critique are welcomed.
Edit;; In the book Where the Red Fern Grows there are two dogs: Old Dan and Little Anne. They're littermates. When Old Dan is killed by a cougar, Little Anne can't go on living without him, so she drags herself to his grave and dies. I believe that this very same thing is happening to Gerbite's brother, Speedy. Speedy is horribly depressed. He usually just sits in a corner sadly, and he has stopped eating. Even when I offer him a treat he turns away, so I'm worried that his time is coming soon. :'c