In short memory of My. Jerry Mouse...
Me and Ben brought a poisoned mouse home, knowing it would die, but having false hope it would live... somehow.
I saw it and screamed MOUSIE MOUSIE MOUSIE!!! Noticed it wasn't scared of me, just drinking from a puddle of water. I knew that was bad news.
Katie Anderson warned me that the last time she brought a mouse home, it lived for a while but started bleeding from it's eyes and other orifices, and died shortly after.
He was surprisingly calm, his little lungs working hard, his tiny veins clotting from the poison.
We had faith in him because he would realize once in a while that he was in a 12 ounce cup filled with napkin shreds and he would freak out a little bit, and then zone out again.
When we got home i put him in a little 'kritter karrier' (totally made that up) with a tiny cup of water, newspaper and toilet paper, a carrot, and one ritz bit.
Ben said the mice liked peanut butter, but i don't believe him.
I put him on top of a heating pad hoping it would thin his blood out or something, make him feel cozy.
Ben blew some weed smoke into his cage a few times, hopefully that would ease his suffering.
A few hours into being in his new and final home, he moved around, hopelessly, with one side paralyzed from the blood not reaching his brain.
Climbed into his water cup and couldn't get out. I tipped it over. I don't think mice like being in water too much.
He laid there for a while, in a puddle of water, just how i found him.
Jerked a little. Struggled for life.
I went into the next room to discuss options for humane euthanasia.
I came back and found him on his side, not breathing.
Relieved that he wasn't suffering anymore, me and Ben took him into the backyard at 3:24 in the morning, me in my slippers.
We chucked him far into the ivy-floored woods off a napkin.
And that was the journey of Mr. Jerry Mouse.
I thought i might immortalize him in this post.
He was pretty cute.
Disclaimer: Jammin' Java does not have mice.
I saw it and screamed MOUSIE MOUSIE MOUSIE!!! Noticed it wasn't scared of me, just drinking from a puddle of water. I knew that was bad news.
Katie Anderson warned me that the last time she brought a mouse home, it lived for a while but started bleeding from it's eyes and other orifices, and died shortly after.
He was surprisingly calm, his little lungs working hard, his tiny veins clotting from the poison.
We had faith in him because he would realize once in a while that he was in a 12 ounce cup filled with napkin shreds and he would freak out a little bit, and then zone out again.
When we got home i put him in a little 'kritter karrier' (totally made that up) with a tiny cup of water, newspaper and toilet paper, a carrot, and one ritz bit.
Ben said the mice liked peanut butter, but i don't believe him.
I put him on top of a heating pad hoping it would thin his blood out or something, make him feel cozy.
Ben blew some weed smoke into his cage a few times, hopefully that would ease his suffering.
A few hours into being in his new and final home, he moved around, hopelessly, with one side paralyzed from the blood not reaching his brain.
Climbed into his water cup and couldn't get out. I tipped it over. I don't think mice like being in water too much.
He laid there for a while, in a puddle of water, just how i found him.
Jerked a little. Struggled for life.
I went into the next room to discuss options for humane euthanasia.
I came back and found him on his side, not breathing.
Relieved that he wasn't suffering anymore, me and Ben took him into the backyard at 3:24 in the morning, me in my slippers.
We chucked him far into the ivy-floored woods off a napkin.
And that was the journey of Mr. Jerry Mouse.
I thought i might immortalize him in this post.
He was pretty cute.
Disclaimer: Jammin' Java does not have mice.