Tiny feathered gerbil-wings are fluttering heavenward - after an onagain/offagain/onagain/offagain recovery, we had a mercy visit to the vet this evening.
Of course, poor Nibble, bedraggled and half her original size, perked up and started eating the minute we got in there, but I've been here before; I couldn't afford the care in the first place, and she was so pathetic, I refused to be swayed from my sanguine agenda.
And now, I feel as though an infinitesimal but infinite weight has been lifted from my shoulders, feather light but expansive enough to fill a room, a house, like smoke or a gas.
Gerbil guilt. Potent stuff.