Now We Are Gathered...

I was just perusing my friend Dave's blog posts from way back yonder (last year) and his hamster post reminded me of my own small pet story...

When Maddie was about four, we gave in to her unrelenting requests for a personal rodent. Willis (See? Willis was not all bad after all, was he?) and Spanky, the gerbils, took up residence in an aquarium located on a silver, wire shelving unit in our spare room/office in Berwyn. Terrible housekeepers, their digs tended toward the smelly side, even with the efforts of Maddie parents (mostly dad) to provide them with personal maid service.

Taking comfort in the fact that gerbils only live for about a year, give or take (so we were told), I didn't think we'd have much to worry about. Of course any red-blooded American child will get very bored with their creatures after a few days, and from there it is just a waiting game with feedings and cleaning interspersed. Fortunately for those guys/unfortunately for us, those little buggers lasted for what seemed like decades! One day, and this may have been contagious all the way from Royal Oak, Michigan, it was either Willis or Spanky that developed a horrible, bloody lump on his/her chest. To the vet we went. Diagnosed with a mammary tumor, the prognosis wasn't terrible, but I couldn't see letting this little guy (girl?) go on with that thing dragging around on its shavings, bleeding from the friction. We decided to put it to sleep.

Five minutes and $65 later, the vet came back with a little white bakery box, gerbil taking the eternal nap inside. Maddie clung to the box with her little fingers and cried. I, of course, being the mom, comforted her, murmuring words of encouragement and reminding her that her little pet is no longer in pain. Sucking on a complimentary lollipop on the way out, I guess she bought it.

We decided that the deceased would be Willis. We planned a burial for him and that very afternoon (I'm pretty sure he was Jewish), dug the hole that would be his final resting place.

Maddie gave the eulogy. It went like this:

"Dear God, please take care of Willis. Please make him comfortable and give him lots of good food, but not meat, because we're vegetarians."

I don't have to tell you that David and I peeked up at each other as surreptitiously as possible. I had to put a hand over my mouth so my giggles wouldn't escape.

In all, it's a nice story, one about a little girl beginning her education about the meaning of life and its fragility. Too bad she didn't even know for sure who she was burying.