A Tail Tale

Shannon wants a puppy. We're not getting a puppy, so she got this instead:

This is Stacy. Stacy is one of our 2 gerbils. Stacy is Shannon's favorite, but don't tell Jacy that. Jacy is the other gerbil. She's the replacement gerbil for Macy (the original favorite) who died a mere 17 days after we bought her. That's an important particular, because her "warranty" was only for 14 days. That made her death especially painful for me, because I couldn't get my money back.

I don't mind rodents. I had 3 mice when I was a kid. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe the whole mouse experience was kinda traumatic for me. One mouse ended up escaping (how, I have no idea) and ran under the refrigerator. We never heard from that one again. The other two had their own issues, such as cannibalizing their young and some pretty nasty fighting. I'd hear little mouse squeals at night, and in the morning the cage would be streaked with blood. My mouse ownership ended in the the tragic suicide of the female (seriously, my dad really convinced my 11-year-old self that mice commit suicide) who lodged her head in between the spokes of the exercise wheel. So, why did I consent to owning rodents, again??

Our adventure began because Shannon wanted her gerbils to have a little freedom. We got them those little plastic roller ball thingys that they're supposed to walk around in, but we put them in the balls, and they just stand there...they clearly do not get it. So I told her that as long as she kept her door closed we could make a house for them to scurry around in for a while.

The gerbils living in style in their very own book house.

My Barbies were the bomb in their book houses, and I am thrilled to pass on my mad skills at book house building.

Custom furnishings and art work by Shannon
Ah, she's a girl after my own heart.
(She drew on index cards and then taped them to the "walls.")

The gerbils were having great fun, and then it happened...the escape...A wall of the book house was not adequately braced together, and Jacy got out! The fugitive ran under the bookshelf which of course is closed in on 3 sides...she's smart, very smart. And maybe she holds a tiny little grudge because she knows deep down that she's the replacement gerbil and can't hold a candle to the dearly departed Macy: the golden child of all gerbildom, according to Shannon. (Now, she didn't say that in so many words, but that's clearly how she feels.)

We spent several minutes chasing her in and out from under the book shelf. She was scampering away for the 50th time, and I just grabbed for her. I had her! But she was too quick and got away again. But then Ben looks down and says, "Mommy, her tail, her tail!" He then hands me the end of Jacy's tail. I pulled off the poor thing's tail!!...all my tragic rodent memories flashing before my eyes. We spot Jacy in the corner, gerbil blood scattered on the carpet.

Here is where Shannon starts to break down, and here is where I come up with the story that gerbil tails are made to come off so that they can escape from cats and other predators. I made that up, but it sounded logical, so I went with it. I suggested that she (because I am not touching it!) put some neosporin on Jacy's tail, because well, it's always good to fight infection. Also, giving her some sort of treatment would reduce my guilt a little if the gerbil actually did die from her traumatic tail injury.


At this point, Jacy is alive and well. And of course, Shannon wanted to keep the tail. I asked her why she's keeping it, and she says slyly, "so I'll never forget what you did to my gerbil." Nice.

The End