Degu Jack
Tonight my degu died.
Most of you probably think that's pretty stupid, but I liked him. He was one of the most affectionate and intelligent pets I've ever owned.
A week ago, he had a heat stroke at school, and hasn't been well since. Monday, I brought him home to my brother who volunteered to watch him, since he's got a lot of time off. He was doing great until today. Yesterday, he was jumping around, happy as can be. I was ready to take him back to school Monday. Today, he could barely move. We took a dropper and fed him, and held and petted him most of the day. Around 11pm or so, I was holding him while he fell into convulsions, and then he body-spasmed and I felt his heart stop.
Maybe he was just a rodent, but I liked him. I really don't want to have to tell my classes he's gone. They really liked him, too. My brother is also taking it hard. As he put it, "He's the only pet we've ever had that didn't bite me."
Maybe I'm just being stupid. Maybe.
I do feel like an idiot. I've seen so many relatives and freinds die, that I didn't think death bothered me anymore. A few years ago, my great grandpa (while in the hospital tied up because of senility in the last month of his life) asked me to kill him to "put him out of his misery." A little under a year ago, I gave my great-grandma's eulogy without crying. Now I tear up over a psuedo-rat? What's the deal?
Most of you probably think that's pretty stupid, but I liked him. He was one of the most affectionate and intelligent pets I've ever owned.
A week ago, he had a heat stroke at school, and hasn't been well since. Monday, I brought him home to my brother who volunteered to watch him, since he's got a lot of time off. He was doing great until today. Yesterday, he was jumping around, happy as can be. I was ready to take him back to school Monday. Today, he could barely move. We took a dropper and fed him, and held and petted him most of the day. Around 11pm or so, I was holding him while he fell into convulsions, and then he body-spasmed and I felt his heart stop.
Maybe he was just a rodent, but I liked him. I really don't want to have to tell my classes he's gone. They really liked him, too. My brother is also taking it hard. As he put it, "He's the only pet we've ever had that didn't bite me."
Maybe I'm just being stupid. Maybe.
I do feel like an idiot. I've seen so many relatives and freinds die, that I didn't think death bothered me anymore. A few years ago, my great grandpa (while in the hospital tied up because of senility in the last month of his life) asked me to kill him to "put him out of his misery." A little under a year ago, I gave my great-grandma's eulogy without crying. Now I tear up over a psuedo-rat? What's the deal?