Sam Bellamy the Pirate Mouse   4 comments

What happened on November 6 is this:

I hadn’t cleaned Sam’s cage in a week, so it was high time to do so. The first thing that I always do is move Sam to a small critter carrier so he can’t run away. He usually puts up a fight, since he hates getting picked up. But this time, I found him just lying next to his chew tunnel. He didn’t move when I touched him. And he felt cold. So I immediately called the exotic animal vet and set up an appointment for within the hour. I then gathered up Sam and left.

I knew Sam was still alive because I heard him move a little bit on the drive over. He shifted a little bit. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was stopping myself from crying. I kept saying things out loud to him about how it would be okay.

Last time I had arrived at the vet, Sonny and I had had to wait for about 20 minutes, even though I called them and made an appointment for ASAP, just like now. That hadn’t been weird. But this time, as soon as I walked in, they immediately took Sam to the back. The nurse at the front desk asked me twice if I wanted water. I was shown into an exam room as soon as they had one available. That, more than anything else, told me how close to the end of the line Sam was. I was asked again if I wanted water.

Pretty soon the doctor walked into the exam room. Sam had a tumor, a big one, and it was causing him a lot of pain, and they could treat it, but it would be painful to treat, and it might not really be effective. I nodded. I said that I thought that was what she would say. She asked how he had been acting the last few days. I said that I hadn’t really looked at him on November 5 — I had worked at Petsmart, then got sick and went straight to bed — but that on November 4, he had been crawling up and down the sides of his cage and demanding Cheerios as usual. I said that I had noticed that he looked a little bigger than usual but just figured that he was fat. The vet nodded and said that animals did a really good job of hiding weakness.

I agreed to euthanize Sam.

“Do you want to say goodbye to him?” she asked.

I said yes.

Sam was brought in on a heating pad. He was completely still. He looked terrible, especially since he was lying right-side up, showing his sewn-up eye. I wondered if the tumor had been the cause of his mysterious hair loss I had noticed a few months ago.

He was too far gone to stop me from finally touching his tiny baby paws and his cute ears. I ran my finger down the length of his tail. It didn’t flick like it normally did. He didn’t care what touched him. His spirit was already gone. That was when I started crying. I may have already been crying, but that was when I started crying hard.

After a while I calmed down and when the vet came back in, I said that it was time. I agreed to be there when they put him down.

Sam fought for a bit. But he lay there and slowly finished dying. I told him what a brave little pirate mouse he was. I told the vet how he lost his eye. I told the vet about how he fought Moby over Christmas.

Sam didn’t live for very long, but he had lived an exciting life anyway.

Posted November 20, 2014 by agentksilver in Personal

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4 responses to “Sam Bellamy the Pirate Mouse

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  1. I’ve never felt so sad about a mouse before. You really make me think about things from new perspectives.

  2. So sorry, honey. Thank you for sharing.

  3. I’m so sorry. *hugs*

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