Broken Hearted
Once, a very long time ago, I wrote a story and fell in love with one of the characters. And because that character was a hedgehog-like creature, I fell in love with hedgehogs. And because I loved hedgehogs we ended up buying two as pets.
And do you know, the funny thing was, the boy hedgehog was exactly like the character I had written. He was grumpy and surly, prickly and quick to huff. But like the Puck from my story, he was also sweet and loving with beautiful dark eyes and a brown nose that always twitched. He'd lay nestled in a felt sack on my lap, he'd let me pet the soft fur on his cheeks and forehead. He was a chow hound who loved food and ripping up the bedding in his cage to make a horrible mess. He rejected the comfy hidey house I gave him and instead slept under his cage liner, contrary as always. He was a very unhedgehog-like hedgehog. He was completely devoted to his cage-mate, Pinch. Separate the two of him and he became depressed and stopped eating and drinking. Put him with another hedgehog and he huffed and kept his distance, but with Pinch he would follow her anywhere.
They slept tumbled together, bodies touching. Like an old married couple they had no manners with one another and shoved each other as they both ate from their food bowl. He never played with toys. Never wanted to explore. He only wanted to be with Pinch. Just give him that and he was happy. When he got sick it happened quickly. All he wanted to do was lay beside Pinch. He held on for her. He lived for the few moments each night when she'd nose his cheek and lay beside him for a while. That is the thing I will remember most about Puck - he loved. He defined the word.
Puck died today just after 11am. I held him in my hands and cried as he went to sleep for the last time at the vet's office. He was in too much pain and getting sicker every hour. Letting him go was so hard. I touched his cheek one last time, kissed his little head and whispered that I loved him. And then he was gone.
When I carried his body back to the car and drove home, The Bee Gees "How Can You Mend A Broken Heart" was playing on the radio. I felt as though the song had been chosen just for me, the words were so perfect. I buried Puck beneath my willow tree in the backyard next to his son, who died a little over a month ago.
And do you know, the funny thing was, the boy hedgehog was exactly like the character I had written. He was grumpy and surly, prickly and quick to huff. But like the Puck from my story, he was also sweet and loving with beautiful dark eyes and a brown nose that always twitched. He'd lay nestled in a felt sack on my lap, he'd let me pet the soft fur on his cheeks and forehead. He was a chow hound who loved food and ripping up the bedding in his cage to make a horrible mess. He rejected the comfy hidey house I gave him and instead slept under his cage liner, contrary as always. He was a very unhedgehog-like hedgehog. He was completely devoted to his cage-mate, Pinch. Separate the two of him and he became depressed and stopped eating and drinking. Put him with another hedgehog and he huffed and kept his distance, but with Pinch he would follow her anywhere.
They slept tumbled together, bodies touching. Like an old married couple they had no manners with one another and shoved each other as they both ate from their food bowl. He never played with toys. Never wanted to explore. He only wanted to be with Pinch. Just give him that and he was happy. When he got sick it happened quickly. All he wanted to do was lay beside Pinch. He held on for her. He lived for the few moments each night when she'd nose his cheek and lay beside him for a while. That is the thing I will remember most about Puck - he loved. He defined the word.
Puck died today just after 11am. I held him in my hands and cried as he went to sleep for the last time at the vet's office. He was in too much pain and getting sicker every hour. Letting him go was so hard. I touched his cheek one last time, kissed his little head and whispered that I loved him. And then he was gone.
When I carried his body back to the car and drove home, The Bee Gees "How Can You Mend A Broken Heart" was playing on the radio. I felt as though the song had been chosen just for me, the words were so perfect. I buried Puck beneath my willow tree in the backyard next to his son, who died a little over a month ago.