Small stuff

Despite an engrossing game of Vampire last night, I find myself worried and vaguely upset.

On saturday, Freakella's latest litter will be 10 weeks old, sexually mature and ready to rock. Unless I want to turn the house into Greater Smials for Gerbils, some have to go. Now, some time ago two chums were talking about taking a couple, and I was hoping to give them some of the young males. However, they told me on Saturday they couldn't and while I understand completely, I could have used more time to find an alternative.

At the moment I have a cage for the boys and a cage for the girls, five in the boys cage, 3 adults and five babies in the girls'. The gerbil litter includes two silver whites with black eyes, one agouti and two albinos. Of the two albinos, one has some kind of crippled foreleg. It's the smallest and crappest but it's very cute. We have called it Nemo.

The new males must be moved. I could try introducing them into the boys' cage, dowsing the whole crew in vanilla essence and hoping the original tenants will be fooled. If this doesn't work, things could get unpleasant for the new boys, and Larians isn't happy about this option in terms of overcrowding the cage. Or I could attempt to find a new home for the boys, but I am unhappy about selling them to a pet shop. If Nemo is a girl, no worries, she can stay with mum. If Nemo is a boy...well, too runty to risk in the boys' cage, no good for breeding from, and no winner in pet shop beauty stakes, Nemo's pretty much got 'snakesnack' printed across his/her pointless little head.

And I really have to sort this out tomorrow night at the very latest. Argh.