Post by thegerbilguru on Nov 23, 2017 8:52:04 GMT -8
This all started when Nibbles, my oldest gerbil, fell ill. Let's give you a bit of info.
I got Nibbles and Smudge, my first gerbils ever, when I was 9, at Petco. (Which was a poor choice)
Smudge lived for a wonderful 3 years, before he got a tumor. We took the best care of him that we could at that time, giving him peas and easier access to water rather than climbing the ramp.
He passed away a week after, and Nibbles was.. Alone. We had researched about how to introduce new gerbils, and that day, we had left to a breeder. We got two lovely hand raised gerbils, Stitch and Jet. We set up a split cage, and that day, we felt confident enough to lift it. They instantly got along, grooming each other. They lived together for a while, but then about a month later Nibbles fell ill with a infection of some sort that we couldn't identify. Respitory infection? His breathing caused him to click and breath very heavily. I had held him in my hands, and he fell asleep in them. I thought he was dead- but he turned out to be fine, and we put him in a separate cage to prevent the other two from getting sick if it were contagious. About 3 weeks later, Nibbles was still alive but not in good shape. Not terrible shape, though. He got apples (his favorite) and peas often, with cloth and a tissue box to cuddle in. He also had a heated bottle covered with a towel for him to cozy up to, for the lack of body heat. We figured that the cage started to smell, so we'd ought to clean it. We had nowhere else to put him but the cage that the babies were in, and sense they had been good and grooming each other about a week ago, we figured it was fine. We put him in, and I stayed to watch, weary. I watched as the babies pressed him down into the bedding, sniffing his scent. Then, they backed off. I was about to leave, when... *SQUEAK*! I whipped around, and yelled to my mom frantically at the sight of a black blur of squeaking. I was in a bit of a daze, but my mom just threw a glove at me and urged me to put it on. I put it on my left hand, and stuck both in, hoping to grab Nibbles. It was difficult to tell them apart. I apparently put my right hand's finger too close, and to my horror, when I lifted it up, a furious baby was clinging onto it with a gaping mouth. I nudged him off, and dove back in with my gloved hand, and to my luck, grabbed nibbles. He twisted around and bit me- but I didn't drop him, and put him in a box at my mom had. I rushed to the bathroom, took off the glove, and furiously washed both of my hands, crying out of shock and disbelief. According to my mom, Nibbles had been seemingly dead when she looked at him, not moving, but they all turned out fine. Nibbles had been in shock. I felt so horrible.
Long story short, everything was fine. I had bite marks on both hands for about two weeks, but that was about it.
Nibbles did die from different causes 2 weeks later, when e sickness caught up to him. He died Haloween night. RIP Nibbles. Jeez, I just wrote a lot. Trust me, it's worth it. Thanks for your time!
I got Nibbles and Smudge, my first gerbils ever, when I was 9, at Petco. (Which was a poor choice)
Smudge lived for a wonderful 3 years, before he got a tumor. We took the best care of him that we could at that time, giving him peas and easier access to water rather than climbing the ramp.
He passed away a week after, and Nibbles was.. Alone. We had researched about how to introduce new gerbils, and that day, we had left to a breeder. We got two lovely hand raised gerbils, Stitch and Jet. We set up a split cage, and that day, we felt confident enough to lift it. They instantly got along, grooming each other. They lived together for a while, but then about a month later Nibbles fell ill with a infection of some sort that we couldn't identify. Respitory infection? His breathing caused him to click and breath very heavily. I had held him in my hands, and he fell asleep in them. I thought he was dead- but he turned out to be fine, and we put him in a separate cage to prevent the other two from getting sick if it were contagious. About 3 weeks later, Nibbles was still alive but not in good shape. Not terrible shape, though. He got apples (his favorite) and peas often, with cloth and a tissue box to cuddle in. He also had a heated bottle covered with a towel for him to cozy up to, for the lack of body heat. We figured that the cage started to smell, so we'd ought to clean it. We had nowhere else to put him but the cage that the babies were in, and sense they had been good and grooming each other about a week ago, we figured it was fine. We put him in, and I stayed to watch, weary. I watched as the babies pressed him down into the bedding, sniffing his scent. Then, they backed off. I was about to leave, when... *SQUEAK*! I whipped around, and yelled to my mom frantically at the sight of a black blur of squeaking. I was in a bit of a daze, but my mom just threw a glove at me and urged me to put it on. I put it on my left hand, and stuck both in, hoping to grab Nibbles. It was difficult to tell them apart. I apparently put my right hand's finger too close, and to my horror, when I lifted it up, a furious baby was clinging onto it with a gaping mouth. I nudged him off, and dove back in with my gloved hand, and to my luck, grabbed nibbles. He twisted around and bit me- but I didn't drop him, and put him in a box at my mom had. I rushed to the bathroom, took off the glove, and furiously washed both of my hands, crying out of shock and disbelief. According to my mom, Nibbles had been seemingly dead when she looked at him, not moving, but they all turned out fine. Nibbles had been in shock. I felt so horrible.
Long story short, everything was fine. I had bite marks on both hands for about two weeks, but that was about it.
Nibbles did die from different causes 2 weeks later, when e sickness caught up to him. He died Haloween night. RIP Nibbles. Jeez, I just wrote a lot. Trust me, it's worth it. Thanks for your time!
