Gerbils Again

I think we must have gotten some modern Industrial Strength Gerbils. When I was a young lass, my parents bought me a set of gerbils and one of the first Habitrail gerbil cages that were produced. They were cool cages that you could add all kinds of attachements on to so the gerbils could run through them and keep entertained. This cage kept all the gerbils, through successive generations, nicely contained.

Now, I don't know if the strength of the plastic on cages is now inferior, or if we have a new breed of genetically modified gerbils with the strength of ten inserted in their genes, but the girls' gerbils ate through their cage in not one, but FIVE different places.

I was out with all the children the other day and my husband found Suki puss crouched down outside the girls' bedroom door. He opened the door to find bands of marauding gerbils busily eating through electrical cords and other paraphanalia. He quickly scooped up a disappointed cat and incarcerated her in the bathroom and then quickly turned to meet the onslaught of gerbils, who, he swears, came at him in waves.

It took a while, but with great skill and dexerity he managed to corral them all in a box. The girls came home and transferred them to a large, tall plastic bucket for the night because they had already made serious inroads on the box. Because the gerbils chewed through the small fan that they use for "white noise" while sleeping, Bethany moved the gerbils into the bathroom (which had been vacated by the cat by this time) so they wouldn't be disturbed by all the chewing and scratching, and in the process managed to become thoroughly bit. The resulting shriek sent me rocketing skyward like a startled pheasant and I erupted from my bedroom to see who was being murdered and why. A quick glance told all, and with infinite kindness and mercy, I told Bethany to stop bleeding on my carpet and threatened to skin all the gerbils with a blunt knife before feeding them to the cat.

The gerbils were settled for the night with a large board across the top to keep them contained. In the morning, we went about our duties and the gerbils were left in the bucket. Unfortunately for them, the bucket was soon sitting in a pool of glorious morning sunshine. While sunshine on our shoulders generally makes us humans happy, it had the unhappy effect of turning the bucket with the board on it into a sort of mini-gerbil sauna. My oldest son happened to go by the bucket and decided to check on the gerbils, since they were unnaturally silent, and found them all laying on their sides, wet with sweat. The insides of the bucket were coated in condensation and the aroma of wood chips rose to meet his nostrils. However, the health benefits of sauna seemed to do them good once they got a bit of fresh air and they were up and at it very shortly afterwards, trying to eat and scratch their way out of the bucket with renewed vigor.

My husband is far more understanding and patient than I am when it comes to gerbils turning my house into a giant litter box. However he has to live with me. Next evening he comes home with a spacious GLASS aquarium for the gerbils. Sadly, the children wouldn't let me fill it with water before putting the gerbils in; but you can't have everything.

The gerbils are now installed in their new digs and are busily engaged in trying to find a purchase on the glass for gnawing or else in digging their way through. Me? I make faces at them through it.