I was going to write a post about these huge heaving changes that seem to be happening in my life. How this seems to be making my relationship pretty crunchy, how worn out and tired I feel with 3 kids, no nearby familia and years of economic shit ( world economic crisis+ young family just don’t make a great combo however you look at it). How I’ve got these health issues that are unknown and have made me lose a silly amount of weight since having my last baby, how nostalgic I feel about my kids as I will be pushed back into 40 hour a week work as soon as possible.
But I’m not.
I’m going to write about gerbils instead.
So, even though I SWORE we wouldn’t get another caged pet after witnessing how the last hamster spent its short life either locked in a small cage or tucked under my DDs arm like a small dog (her dream), I caved and got 2 gerbils a few months ago.
Note: NEVER get gerbils. They look like hamsters with tails, oh so cute, but they are FAST and they can CHEW.
Chewing their way through our and our friends cardboard supply just wasn’t enough…Pinky (the braver of the two) chewed and jumped out of the first cage we had. Granted, it was just an under-the-bed box I was using to be thrifty, but still…who would have thought…
While on ‘holiday’ Pinky managed to chew through our computer lead (f***ing expensive as we all know) and also used my DHs fancy speaker as a nest, spewing the speaker stuffing all over the place as if she didn’t care.
On to cage #2. A proper caged, second-hand on Internet, so pleased was I.
I woke up last week and realised Pinky had CHEWED an escape hole out of cage #2 and Viper (timid Viper) had followed. It was not just a random “I need to chew and…oops, oh cool…I’ve made a hole, lets see what’s out there” hole, it was a “I’m breaking this joint and getting the F out as quick as I can” type hole.
You see, with one taste of freedom, she (yes it’s a he, we call it she, go figure…) was determined, I would say obsessed, with more. It’s like escaping was all she could think about.
Then for over a week, gerbils, RODENTS may I add (though thank god I had the sense to get 2 boys despite what the names suggests) were loose in my flat. Loose and chewing, and roaming and peeing and pooing and….
i finally caught Pinky, being braver she ventured out for food and water (I’m good, I leave them food and water). I put her in a tiny weeny tank we have for collecting tadpoles and stuff. We jokingly called it “solitary”. Within a day she had chewed the catch and head butted open the lid, escaping again. There went cage #3.
Yesterday again she was caught. I put her in an old fish tank, with a heavy book on top (“maximum security”). That’s cage #4 if you’re counting.
Last night in the middle of the night, it’s still dark and something wakes me up CLUNK, CLUNK, CLUNK…no it’s not Viper who is still loose, but determined little Pinky jumping as high as she can to head butt the roof if her prison. She is wild with a passion to be free.
It’s that taste of freedom. Nothing like it.