Vacation sadness

Yesterday, we lost a member of our family.

Ella the gerbil passed away at 5:38 p.m.

Ella went by many names: the brown gerbil, the big one, the bigger one, the really big one, and sometimes the fat one.

While Ella was certainly big, she was also loved, especially by my daughter. On her seventh birthday, we gave her two gerbils as her birthday present. I was anti-pet and especially anti-rodent pet, but I agreed to the idea of two furry creatures that would live their entire lives in a small cage in my daughter’s room.

Somehow it was agreed that the gerbils would be shared-the brown one would be my daughter’s and the grey one would be my son’s. My daughter thought hers should be named Ella and my son thought his should be named Alex, after himself. We told him many times that Alex was a female, but he never listened, cared or agreed.

The two kids played with the gerbils as much as you can play with gerbils. They aren’t animals that like to be handled or petted, but my daughter would pick them up against their will and hold them. Only once was she ever bitten. I can’t recall if it was Ella or Alex who did the biting.

On a few occasions the gerbils made escape attempts and once I was called in to capture the fugitives. I locked myself in my daughter’s room, sat on the floor and made futile attempts to catch them with my hands as they dashed past me. Two hours later, daddy had mastered the art of gerbil trapping and both animals had been returned to their cage. Gerbils will do anything to avoid capture, including running up your leg, inside your shorts until you are forced to abandon your position, but I’d rather not talk about that at this time.

We’re on vacation this week and the gerbils travelled with us as we enjoyed three days of camping. We realized yesterday that Ella wasn’t well. By mid afternoon she was barely moving and my daughter wondered if she was still breathing.

As we headed down the road, towards our cottage a couple of hours away, Ella’s situation grew dire and the updates from the back seat became frantic.

“Daddy, Ella is on her back and her legs are up in the air.”

Oh no.

I knew that we would deal with the death of the gerbils at some point. I really didn’t want them to experience the loss of a pet in this way, watching those last painful moments as life slips away, but unfortunately that’s what happened. As we sat in traffic, all eyes on Ella, she began to shake and soon she was gone.

Uncontrollable tears and wailing followed and I could only drive on, wondering how to answer the questions that came next. Burial plans were discussed and I must somehow figure out how to preserve Ella’s body for four days until she can return home with us.

Ella, you went by many names (sadly, we have now added "the dead gerbil") and you were a good pet. You’re in a better place (and I don’t mean in a box in the basement) and you’ll be missed.

RIP Ella the gerbil
2009-2010