RIP Swiper Willson (2006 - 2009)

Earlier today we had to put Swiper to sleep, and as you can probably figure, euthanizing a pet is a ridiculously sucky experience.

(Just zooming through the necessary details: he'd been sick and was getting worse, might have had a stroke. First he had trouble walking, then staying awake, then eating. The rodent specialist at the hospital was away for most of the week and he saw us as soon as he could, but I don't think there was anything he could've done. Swiper was an old gerbil, after all, and they don't live forever.)

We resolved to be with him at the end, since I didn't want him to have to die all alone. Gerbils get scared so easily. By this point he was mostly unconscious, but he'd still squirm and kick whenever you'd pet him, because he kind of hated to be touched. Good ol' Swiper! However, he was always OK with me touching his paw with my finger, which I'd often do and pretend we were shaking hands.

So we petted him for a bit before they gave him the anesthetic, and I like to think in his delirium we felt like other gerbils grooming him, and that was somehow soothing. And then we thought the anesthetic killed him, but he resumed breathing. Swiper was nothing if not a fighter. And they let me hold his paw as they gave him the last injection, right into his heart, Jesus Christ, but he didn't even flinch, and that was it, he was finally free from the pain. His paws and nose, usually a nice gerbil-pink, turned gray far, far too quickly. He was so little, the poison must have spread so fast.

It wasn't fun leaving him with the hospital, but it would be weird carrying his body home, then illegally burying him in the park or something for some animal to dig up and eat and then die from the poison. The hospital knows what to do with the bodies, and Sarah thought it'd be nice for him to be with other animals, so at least he won't be alone for long.

The doctor saw me kissing his head before we left. He still smelled good. Gerbils have a very nice smell, even in death. And I tucked him under a tissue just so he wouldn't be lying there all exposed and undignified, and I wrote his name on it so they'd know he wasn't just any dead gerbil but someone who was really cool.

And... that was it.

But I'd like to celebrate Swiper's life, not dwell on his death, so here are a few of his greatest hits and (mostly unrelated) funniest pictures.


Swiper was the only one of the gerbils who seemed to enjoy getting in The Ball. Here's a blog entry from Jen365 in which Swiper appeared, and also this weird (unrelated) video featuring Too Many Balls.


Another great moment happened when we integrated all the gerbils together. For one week, they all lived in a single tank but were separated by a mesh fence, and then they chewed through the mesh so they could be together. That was very cute - they decided on their own that it was time to tear down the wall and live as a family.


Swiper was a master groomer. I guess his year of living alone gave him a newfound love of grooming, because, yeah buddy, he'd totally go at it for the other two. You could hear them squeak (usually a sound of pleasure or annoyance - but since they let him do it, it had to be pleasure) from across the room when he'd groom them, so it must've felt very good. I likened him to an old Asian masseuse who really knew what he was doing.


My personal favorite moment in Swiper's history: when we came home from my brother's wedding, and he scampered out of the kitchen to greet us. What a surprise! He'd broken out of his cage somehow, somewhen, and set up a habitat in the kitchen. Who knows for how many days or for how long, but it was a very surprising sight, and I think he was psyched to see us, so we could put him back in his cage.


And finally, the time Swiper tried really hard to get to the pistachios.


He had a good life, and I'm grateful for having known him. We'll miss you, Swiper.