Thursday, June 11, 2009

here endeth,please god, the saga

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.

Sorry, Nibble.

5 comments:

Mick said...

It was meant to be...

Never heard of gerbil guilt before. I'm sure there are some therapy sessions you can sign up for!

Godspeed, Nibble.

Xbox4NappyRash said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Ms. Moon said...

Sanguine agenda?
Too perfect.
Free at last- both you and the little critter.

morgor said...

I always knew you were a killer.

well more of an accomplice i suppose.

Ciara said...

Aw poor Nibble... Hope the funeral wasn't too sad...