Post by jeannie on Apr 16, 2004 11:00:36 GMT -4
Phoenix,
I can't even count the number of times you died and came back to life since I've known you. Your first epileptic fit scared me, but I soon learned how to remain calm in your crisis. Although you now have died for the last time, you will live on forever.
What a tragic little life you had: abandoned in the pet store by your previous owners when you were sick, kept in a cage in the back room of Petco, next to a cage with a huge barking dog in it, and then put on display in a brightly lit tank at Petco. I remembered that although I put you in a comfortable padded critter carrier to bring you home, you squawked during the entire cab ride. It was as if you were asking "what next? what next?"
You never had the love you wanted either - no warm hamster body to keep you company, no female playmate, just an occasional sniff of your girlfriend Phoebe, through the bars of your playpens.
And despite all these things missing from your life, you remained with me for almost a year and 6 months. You were sick since December of 2003, and yet you kept going. You were one tough fighter for a guy who seemed to have so little to be grateful for, and yet you stayed with me.
You were the old geezer who coughed for months, took his meds, and remained a little tough guy to the end. Until this morning when I found you lying on your back. I picked you up, and held you, watching you breathe your last breaths, in peace. I thought you might come back, because you had risen from the dead so many times. I put some of Phoebe's bedding near you hoping to revive you. You took one sniff, squawked, and then breathed a sigh of relief, as you died, at last.
I hope you are now in peace, frolicking around with another female hamster at last.
Thank you for staying with me so long.
I can't even count the number of times you died and came back to life since I've known you. Your first epileptic fit scared me, but I soon learned how to remain calm in your crisis. Although you now have died for the last time, you will live on forever.
What a tragic little life you had: abandoned in the pet store by your previous owners when you were sick, kept in a cage in the back room of Petco, next to a cage with a huge barking dog in it, and then put on display in a brightly lit tank at Petco. I remembered that although I put you in a comfortable padded critter carrier to bring you home, you squawked during the entire cab ride. It was as if you were asking "what next? what next?"
You never had the love you wanted either - no warm hamster body to keep you company, no female playmate, just an occasional sniff of your girlfriend Phoebe, through the bars of your playpens.
And despite all these things missing from your life, you remained with me for almost a year and 6 months. You were sick since December of 2003, and yet you kept going. You were one tough fighter for a guy who seemed to have so little to be grateful for, and yet you stayed with me.
You were the old geezer who coughed for months, took his meds, and remained a little tough guy to the end. Until this morning when I found you lying on your back. I picked you up, and held you, watching you breathe your last breaths, in peace. I thought you might come back, because you had risen from the dead so many times. I put some of Phoebe's bedding near you hoping to revive you. You took one sniff, squawked, and then breathed a sigh of relief, as you died, at last.
I hope you are now in peace, frolicking around with another female hamster at last.
Thank you for staying with me so long.
But I rarerly buy frozen food anyway, so it doesn't matter. Ted Williams is frozen permanently. . .