I should have known...
It finally happened. My cat attacked my mice.
It was my fault, actually... I turned my back on her while I was handling the babies and she stole one. She didn't kill him... I think she only wanted to play, but he still got a bite mark in the back and a nasty bruise (for a baby mouse; it was about the size of a rice grain) by the time I managed to take him away from her. The poor dear was terrified and was getting cold, so I had to warm him up and calm him down before I could put him back in the tank.
That was two days ago, and the bruise is all but faded by now, but he hasn't been recovering so well. He looks skinny and he doesn't seem to have the strength to fight his siblings to nurse, so he is lagging behind in his growth.
So now I find myself with the duty to provide him with the milk he hasn't been able to get by himself... which means that I have to bottle-feed him lactose-reduced milk with the tiniest syringe I could find several times a day. You should have seen the vet's face when I asked him how I could bottle-feed a baby mouse...
It was just as hard as I thought it would be. He is positively tiny, smaller than my thumb, and he didn't seem to get the concept of bottle-feeding (or syringe-feeding) at first... he ended up getting more milk on his face and paws than in his stomach. He got it the second time around, though, and I managed to get him to drink some. Not more than a few drops... but it's still better than nothing. I'm planning to keep this up until he gets strong enough to fight his rightful place among his siblings when it's time to nurse. When you have twenty brothers and sisters and only ten nipples per mum, feeding time gets rough...
Two of the babies have already passed away from whatever reason (it's inevitable when it's such a big litter), and I'll be damned before I let another one die.
Some of you may be wondering why I go through so much trouble just for a mouse... Well, I've wondered the same thing myself, but when he fell asleep on my thumb after stuffing himself full of milk, my heart melted a bit...
I know it's not advisable because I'll get attached to him (and because he's a boy, I won't be able to keep him unless I get a cage just for him), but I've named him. He is now Brandy, because of the bite mark he has on his back, which will probably leave a scar (mark = scar = brand. Brandy!)
And if you were wondering, no, I didn't punish my cat for attacking Brandy. It's not her fault if she thought he was a live treat; she was just following her instincts.
On another note, I'll probably post some more pictures of my rodent family later tonight, or tomorrow. I finally figured out a way of getting decent pictures even when they're moving, though I still haven't figured out a way to take close-ups that aren't out of focus.
It was my fault, actually... I turned my back on her while I was handling the babies and she stole one. She didn't kill him... I think she only wanted to play, but he still got a bite mark in the back and a nasty bruise (for a baby mouse; it was about the size of a rice grain) by the time I managed to take him away from her. The poor dear was terrified and was getting cold, so I had to warm him up and calm him down before I could put him back in the tank.
That was two days ago, and the bruise is all but faded by now, but he hasn't been recovering so well. He looks skinny and he doesn't seem to have the strength to fight his siblings to nurse, so he is lagging behind in his growth.
So now I find myself with the duty to provide him with the milk he hasn't been able to get by himself... which means that I have to bottle-feed him lactose-reduced milk with the tiniest syringe I could find several times a day. You should have seen the vet's face when I asked him how I could bottle-feed a baby mouse...
It was just as hard as I thought it would be. He is positively tiny, smaller than my thumb, and he didn't seem to get the concept of bottle-feeding (or syringe-feeding) at first... he ended up getting more milk on his face and paws than in his stomach. He got it the second time around, though, and I managed to get him to drink some. Not more than a few drops... but it's still better than nothing. I'm planning to keep this up until he gets strong enough to fight his rightful place among his siblings when it's time to nurse. When you have twenty brothers and sisters and only ten nipples per mum, feeding time gets rough...
Two of the babies have already passed away from whatever reason (it's inevitable when it's such a big litter), and I'll be damned before I let another one die.
Some of you may be wondering why I go through so much trouble just for a mouse... Well, I've wondered the same thing myself, but when he fell asleep on my thumb after stuffing himself full of milk, my heart melted a bit...
I know it's not advisable because I'll get attached to him (and because he's a boy, I won't be able to keep him unless I get a cage just for him), but I've named him. He is now Brandy, because of the bite mark he has on his back, which will probably leave a scar (mark = scar = brand. Brandy!)
And if you were wondering, no, I didn't punish my cat for attacking Brandy. It's not her fault if she thought he was a live treat; she was just following her instincts.
On another note, I'll probably post some more pictures of my rodent family later tonight, or tomorrow. I finally figured out a way of getting decent pictures even when they're moving, though I still haven't figured out a way to take close-ups that aren't out of focus.