Babies and gerbils

[smokingboot]

Yesterday evening saw us in the two week old presence of Master Garrett Myers, latest addition to the Bruce&Vikiy household. He seems very chilled, and made the evening easy for us all by just being cute and asleep. At one point, he made what his doting parents describe as his little 'baby velociraptor'noise, a kind of piping squeak which chills the blood, or at least, chills my blood. This child was two foot long when he came out; That's three foot shorter than his father. Bloody hell.

I am never, ever doing the childbirth thing. I'll give birth to books and stories and that will have to do. But the night was pleasant, and lifted my mood very sweetly.

Then we got home, and I fed the Freaks. Do not think I have forgotten the gerbils, dear lj, even in the throes of moog enchantment, but try to understand that they live in cages full of peat, twigs, straw and great opportunities for hiding, so one can never be sure that they are all present and correct. Hence my shock last night.



Our she-catlet, Surya, was wandering around the room while I fed the tiny beasties. Imagine my surprise when I saw her slope past, intent on murdering a nearby object - and right behind her on the floor, a wee white rodent sat up on its hind legs and watched us both. I scooped her up and threw her out, and the little white gerbil ran behind a bookcase. Then I checked the cages. I was pretty sure it was one of the boys, Number One Son.

Number One Son has caused me trouble before. Last year, Jan sans lj kindly looked after both cages full of freaks while we were on holiday; 'Don't worry about the boys,' I told her, 'They're never any trouble. The girls occasionally get a bit frisky.' Well, you live and learn. I came back to a long and vehement refutal of that claim. Number One Son had not only got out of the cage, but decimated a pillow case in his wanderings; her front room had been dotted with little pyramids of sunflower seeds, bribes that almost but never quite worked. He was out for a weekend before she caught him.

He was lucky that time; gerbil communities 'forget' after something in the region of 24/48 hours. Then the returned gerbil is nothing more than an outsider, and they will try to kill the stranger. After his first adventure, he was returned to his life with the other inmates, no problem. But not last night.

larians caught the gerbil, and we tried to return him to the cage with his brothers and father. We already had misgivings about the amount of time he had been out: he had chewed through a thick curtain tie, and was hungry enough to brave both our gazes in the search for sunflower seeds, so it was likely to be more than a day. Sometimes being right is no fun. Putting him back in the cage was very distressing to watch as first he bunkered down in a chewed through flowerpot, and threw them out as they came after him. Then they came through the side, chased him up to the top, and I must say, it was horrible to watch, as they surrounded him, and he turned to fight for his life. Once again, with a kind of dexterity beyond me, gentle, swift and accurate, larians swooped his hand in and rescued the poor exile. In that sad moment, all I could think of was the kindness of larians as he stroked Number One Son. There is something in the expression of compassion which has no equal. The contrast between the instinctive cruelty of the tiny group and the kindness of the rescuer's face was extraordinary.

What to do with Number One Son now is a moot point. larians is getting some vanilla essence tonight, we shall douse all the male gerbils in it, and see if, by putting them all in the same uniform, they accept each other. And if they don't?

Then the renegade gets his own cage,(he's in a temporary one right now) and his own life, because his difference has made him important. Don't get me wrong, I am not imputing any moral stature to him; if Tux or any of the others had got out, he would be one of the muggers. It's not about how 'good' he is, though I am enjoying the story. It is about the way he tried something different, escaped not once but twice, eluded a cat, endured hunger and cold and lack of water, conquered a curtain-tie. He's made himself special, has earned a new name and shall henceforth be called Houdini. Trouble is this, gerbils are social creatures, but they are weird about territory. He will need a companion, but it would have to be a youngster. And who knows, if he's completely lost the plot, he might try to kill it.

Oh, and about this cage - where the hell are we going to put it?

Comments

[nyarbaggytep.livejournal.com]

There's a book called I, Houdini about an escaping hamster that I read as a kid, I remember it as very good.

Go No. 1 Houdini Son.

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

I never heard of the story before. I'll have to find it and read it to him, so he can feel proud of himself!

[evilwillow.livejournal.com]

the vanilla essence is a good idea. If not you can get some spray from the pet shop that will do the same thing, it just deodourises them so they can't tell who the newcomer is.

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

That's a good idea too. Fingers crossed!