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Let me tell you a story.
In late 2015 I took in a little ball of fuzz. Her name ended up being Clohe, but I always called her Mousy.
In the beginning, she was always curious and a spazz. Running on her runny wheel and spinning around with it, or when she was out in her rolly ball it was like she was just TRYING to find ways to get stuck. Even when I'd pick her up and move her, she'd littterally just turn right around and go try to get stuck again.
Early 2016 she got a little aggressive. Biting and hiding. Even being vicious enough to draw blood! It was difficult, but I couldn't be mad at her. When you're that small, everything around you could be a threat. You don't have time to wonder if the stranger is nice. You do that, you could be dead. Defend yourself, ask questions later.
So, to try to make her a little more comfortable, I spoiled her a lot. She got a much bigger cage. Fancy bedding. Food with a much larger variety of seeds, a taller water bottle, which had special vitamins mixed in to the water, and, while she was skiddish to use it at first, the cage had a second floor on top. Which she had extra bedding made with different shredded paper too. She also got lots of toys and little things to climb on and nibble on.
Still took a a while got her to get used to it, but she grew to be happy. Nibbling on everything and drinking everything very loudly in the middle of the night while I was trying to sleep.
Nonetheless, I loved her and she was happy and wasn't afraid of me anymore. Though, she was always stubborn when it came time to take her out for time in her rolly ball. It'd take 10 minutes to chase her around in her cage to get her, but then I show her the rolly ball and boop, right in. No problem.
Fast forward almost 3 years, to today. When I moved into my condo she was all spazzy and curious, as per usual. At this point, I could give her pets at any time and she wouldn't be bothered at all. Except when she was trying to sleep. Sometimes if I had to move her cage, she'd poke her head out from under her bedding all squinty eyes and look up or over at me being like, "WTF man, I'm trying to sleep. What do you want."
About 3-4 weeks ago, I noticed a little lump under her chin. It was bare, no fur there. But she was running around and not acting any different. After asking around, I chalked it up to possibly being over grooming. Believe it or not, against popular belief, mice are very clean animals. They may end up in gross areas, but they're probably safer in that area, which is how they end up there. She was always cleaning herself. But I though maybe she was a little stressed because of the move. She'd be more sensitive to the environment change than I would.
Last week, I noticed she was drinking a lot more water than usual. How? She'd wake me up every hour making noise. ... Anyway. So Tuesday night, 11/8, I checked up on her, and... the lump had doubled in size. She was having trouble moving and was all hunched over. It was hard for her to stand a little to reach the water.
Freaked out, I moving things around in her cage, making the bedding higher for her to reach the water bottle easier, and I tilted her food bowl up, so she doesn't have to reach into it. At this time I had switched her to a pellet diet, since those are actually better for her. I stayed up a few hours, watching her and helping her get water or get food if she needed it. I kept rearranging her bedding so it was easier for her to move around. It hit me that I haven't seen her ok her top floor in a while, she's been sleeping under the bedding in the bottom level. I just stayed awake with her, and actually ended up falling asleep on the floor about 2ish hours.
I knew what the lump was. It was a tumor. Mousy was about 3 years old. Mice aren't expected to live past 2 years at most. ... So Wednesday I called and went to the animal ER immediately after work. They checked up vitals and if she had a temperature, and said she was actually really healthy, but they didn't know what the lump was for sure.
This morning I went back to see a small animal specialist who checked up on her. When the doctor came back, she said that Mousy was extremely healthy and that she is in very good health especially at her age. The doctor commended me for taking such good care of her and spoiling the shit out of her, because she's outlived her lifespan.
However, and I knew this was coming, it was confirmed that Mousy had a tumor.
There were a few options we could take. Radiation therapy, surgery, medication to just make her feel more comfortable.
The doctor mentioned that surgery would likely be fatal. Mice and animals as small as her, lose body heat VERY quickly when knocked out for surgery. That, and the tumor is dangerously close to her throat, enough said. Radiation would also likely not help her, and would probably do more harm than good. Best case during surgery is she could remove part of the tumor so it's easier for Mousy to move around, but that's only a temporary solution. As is the medicine to make her feel more comfortable.
I got Mousy when I was fired from Schneider Electric. I was unemployed for 6 months, and stayed home in the cold, refusing to turn the heat on. It was electric heat. I wasn't going to deal with it. So I was bundled up as much as I could, at my computer, getting turned down for job after job. ... I was violently depressed. And... bad things ran through my mind several times. ... Sorry to get morbid, but I believe I even said to Eric, my roommate at the time, "you're lucky you didn't find me on the kitchen floor, bled out from my throat being cut open." ... Didn't happen obviously.
But my point is...
No matter how depressed I got, I could look over to her, and see her on her wheel, or nibbling on a toy, or nibbling on her seeds, Sunflower seeds were her favorite, and think, "at least I can make someone happy."
After some final few minutes of time alone and holder her, petting her, and trying to keep her from calling up my sleeve because she's a spazz and was running up and down my arm, I made the painful decision to put her to sleep, but it got worse. Medication would have been delaying the inevitable. Even if she wouldn't be in pain, she'd eventually be unable to eat, or move.
Clohe was put down by anestisha and pronounced dead at 9:58am this morning, 11/10.
Some people have told me "Oh, it's a mouse. Yeah they don't last long. Just get a replacement."
...."Just get a replacement." .... Like she's a fucking car part.
The animal hospital was very kind, and treated her with respect.
Mousy will be cremated, and I will get her remains in a little paw print casing.
I also have her paw prints in a little clay disk.
I hope I did a good job making her happy and comfortable, and I will miss her immensely.
Rest In Peace, my little squeaker.
Chole.
Fall 2014 - November 10th, 2017.
In late 2015 I took in a little ball of fuzz. Her name ended up being Clohe, but I always called her Mousy.
In the beginning, she was always curious and a spazz. Running on her runny wheel and spinning around with it, or when she was out in her rolly ball it was like she was just TRYING to find ways to get stuck. Even when I'd pick her up and move her, she'd littterally just turn right around and go try to get stuck again.
Early 2016 she got a little aggressive. Biting and hiding. Even being vicious enough to draw blood! It was difficult, but I couldn't be mad at her. When you're that small, everything around you could be a threat. You don't have time to wonder if the stranger is nice. You do that, you could be dead. Defend yourself, ask questions later.
So, to try to make her a little more comfortable, I spoiled her a lot. She got a much bigger cage. Fancy bedding. Food with a much larger variety of seeds, a taller water bottle, which had special vitamins mixed in to the water, and, while she was skiddish to use it at first, the cage had a second floor on top. Which she had extra bedding made with different shredded paper too. She also got lots of toys and little things to climb on and nibble on.
Still took a a while got her to get used to it, but she grew to be happy. Nibbling on everything and drinking everything very loudly in the middle of the night while I was trying to sleep.
Nonetheless, I loved her and she was happy and wasn't afraid of me anymore. Though, she was always stubborn when it came time to take her out for time in her rolly ball. It'd take 10 minutes to chase her around in her cage to get her, but then I show her the rolly ball and boop, right in. No problem.
Fast forward almost 3 years, to today. When I moved into my condo she was all spazzy and curious, as per usual. At this point, I could give her pets at any time and she wouldn't be bothered at all. Except when she was trying to sleep. Sometimes if I had to move her cage, she'd poke her head out from under her bedding all squinty eyes and look up or over at me being like, "WTF man, I'm trying to sleep. What do you want."
About 3-4 weeks ago, I noticed a little lump under her chin. It was bare, no fur there. But she was running around and not acting any different. After asking around, I chalked it up to possibly being over grooming. Believe it or not, against popular belief, mice are very clean animals. They may end up in gross areas, but they're probably safer in that area, which is how they end up there. She was always cleaning herself. But I though maybe she was a little stressed because of the move. She'd be more sensitive to the environment change than I would.
Last week, I noticed she was drinking a lot more water than usual. How? She'd wake me up every hour making noise. ... Anyway. So Tuesday night, 11/8, I checked up on her, and... the lump had doubled in size. She was having trouble moving and was all hunched over. It was hard for her to stand a little to reach the water.
Freaked out, I moving things around in her cage, making the bedding higher for her to reach the water bottle easier, and I tilted her food bowl up, so she doesn't have to reach into it. At this time I had switched her to a pellet diet, since those are actually better for her. I stayed up a few hours, watching her and helping her get water or get food if she needed it. I kept rearranging her bedding so it was easier for her to move around. It hit me that I haven't seen her ok her top floor in a while, she's been sleeping under the bedding in the bottom level. I just stayed awake with her, and actually ended up falling asleep on the floor about 2ish hours.
I knew what the lump was. It was a tumor. Mousy was about 3 years old. Mice aren't expected to live past 2 years at most. ... So Wednesday I called and went to the animal ER immediately after work. They checked up vitals and if she had a temperature, and said she was actually really healthy, but they didn't know what the lump was for sure.
This morning I went back to see a small animal specialist who checked up on her. When the doctor came back, she said that Mousy was extremely healthy and that she is in very good health especially at her age. The doctor commended me for taking such good care of her and spoiling the shit out of her, because she's outlived her lifespan.
However, and I knew this was coming, it was confirmed that Mousy had a tumor.
There were a few options we could take. Radiation therapy, surgery, medication to just make her feel more comfortable.
The doctor mentioned that surgery would likely be fatal. Mice and animals as small as her, lose body heat VERY quickly when knocked out for surgery. That, and the tumor is dangerously close to her throat, enough said. Radiation would also likely not help her, and would probably do more harm than good. Best case during surgery is she could remove part of the tumor so it's easier for Mousy to move around, but that's only a temporary solution. As is the medicine to make her feel more comfortable.
I got Mousy when I was fired from Schneider Electric. I was unemployed for 6 months, and stayed home in the cold, refusing to turn the heat on. It was electric heat. I wasn't going to deal with it. So I was bundled up as much as I could, at my computer, getting turned down for job after job. ... I was violently depressed. And... bad things ran through my mind several times. ... Sorry to get morbid, but I believe I even said to Eric, my roommate at the time, "you're lucky you didn't find me on the kitchen floor, bled out from my throat being cut open." ... Didn't happen obviously.
But my point is...
No matter how depressed I got, I could look over to her, and see her on her wheel, or nibbling on a toy, or nibbling on her seeds, Sunflower seeds were her favorite, and think, "at least I can make someone happy."
After some final few minutes of time alone and holder her, petting her, and trying to keep her from calling up my sleeve because she's a spazz and was running up and down my arm, I made the painful decision to put her to sleep, but it got worse. Medication would have been delaying the inevitable. Even if she wouldn't be in pain, she'd eventually be unable to eat, or move.
Clohe was put down by anestisha and pronounced dead at 9:58am this morning, 11/10.
Some people have told me "Oh, it's a mouse. Yeah they don't last long. Just get a replacement."
...."Just get a replacement." .... Like she's a fucking car part.
The animal hospital was very kind, and treated her with respect.
Mousy will be cremated, and I will get her remains in a little paw print casing.
I also have her paw prints in a little clay disk.
I hope I did a good job making her happy and comfortable, and I will miss her immensely.
Rest In Peace, my little squeaker.
Chole.
Fall 2014 - November 10th, 2017.
Category Photography / Still Life
Species Mouse
Size 1280 x 960px
File Size 191.6 kB
I feel ya. I used to have Gerbils and mice. They are so adorable and nice and extremely entertaining. They are never just pets they are part of the family and the same applies for all pets. i still cry when my fish die! There is nothing wrong with feeling sad about losing an animal friend. <3
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