Post by Azayles on Jul 13, 2015 19:52:55 GMT
26th May 2010 - 4th January 2012
My first ever hamster, Millie, passed away in January of 2012. I wrote a memorial post for her on another forum, but since I'm no longer a member there, I wanted to post it here for prosperity.
Dear Millie,
I hope this letter finds you in Rainbow Bridge, and finds you well. I've wanted to write this letter for some time, but really haven't been able to bring myself to do it. Really I wanted to do it when you were ill, so I could read it to you. I only hope I'm not too late, and that this last message, somehow, gets to you.
I don't think I ever really told you how much you meant to me and how much you got me through things. It was always good to go out somewhere, come back and you'd be waiting patiently for me, ready to greet me. I could go away for a whole weekend and you'd be there waiting, ready to hear about my adventures. You were more than just a pet to me, more than just an animal who lived with me and who's care I was charged with. You were a true friend.
I remember when I first took a keen interest in hamsters. Seems so long ago now. I feel like I've come such a long way though. Well, we both have. My friend Holly had taken in a new hamster, Biscuit, and after seeing how absolutely adorable she was, and hearing from Holly how relatively easy they were to care for, I knew I had to have one. It was funny, my friends really didn't think I was the hamster type. I guess it takes all sorts I remember the many false starts and back and forth trips to Pets@Home when I was waiting, oh so impatiently, until Syrian hamsters had come in stock. I didn't know of hamster adoptions yet, so my first hamster, you, was a store purchase.
My birthday, August 3rd came around and so I got lots and LOTS of gifts. All for you! It was a good day. And I hadn't even picked you up from the store yet, that wasn't until the next day.
So the next day, the 4th, I was all set. I had your cage all set up with bedding, substrate and toys, a bottle of water and small dish of food. I had the crinkly tube, the treats, hamster ball and fleece hammock that I got for my birthday, and the small pet carrier all laid out with bedding ready to pick you up from the store. I walked up the road to Pets@Home, my stomach heavy with nervous excitement! Today I was bringing you home!
I got to the store and the lovely young lady, Kerry went into the back room and brought out three female Syrians in a bucket. Two of the Syrians were milling around in the bottom of the bucket, probably grumpy from being woken from their blissful sleep, and you were wide awake, alert and jumping up and down at the sides of the bucket. You was so excited! Your eyes shone like black pearls as you looked pleadingly up at me. "Take me home!" you seemed to say. So take you home I did. I sat at the bus stop to go back home and I watched you burrow and sniffle around in the bedding in your pet carrier. You was soo so tiny, so delicate looking.
You burrowed around and looked up at me, eyes blinking in surprise as you watched me sitting there grinning from ear to ear. I got you home good and safe, and gingerly transferred you to your new cage.
And then I waited.
Oh how I waited! You had plenty of food and water, so I didn't have to worry about that, but I had to wait for you to settle in to your new home before I could handle you. All I could do was stand and watch as you ran around your cage trying out all your toys.
Finally you'd settled in, so I very carefully put my hand in your cage to try and stroke you, and you'd give my fingers a tentative sniff before running off again! You was so shy at first, and I was so worried about hurting you I was scared to pick you up! Eventually though I got you walking over my fingers and into my hand, so I could carefully lift you out your cage and stroke you, all the time chatting gently to you and offering treats.
And so our new friendship began! Each day I would get you out your cage and sit with you on my lap while I stroked you and massaged your ears (which you loved!) and pretty soon you was running all over me, up and down my arms and in my sleeves. You always loved my sleeves
Before long our bond grew stronger. You trusted me more and more, you'd sit in my hand while you let me cuddle you and give you kisses and talk to you. Sometimes I'd talk to you or even sing when you were in your cage and you'd stand there, ears up and just stare at me as if you didn't quite know what to do with yourself.
As time went on I joined a wonderful hamster forum and found out SO MUCH about you! I thought I knew so much already, but there was lots more to learn. I learned you needed a bigger wheel, so I got you one, and that you needed a bigger home, so I build you a giant bin cage. Later on I made this bin cage bigger still! As you grew, so too did your character. You seemed to have so many different moods and different expressions and you could always convey these to me with certain looks and ear movements. I think you really understood me when I was talking to you, and I think I understood you, too. It was like you trusted me, and you let me into your little world.
I knew this wasn't going to last forever. I always knew that. Nothing this precious is supposed to last, that's what makes it precious to begin with. But I never really thought about you getting old, or falling ill. I always lived in the moment with you, we both did, and I thought all this was such a long way off yet.
But one day, everything changed.
I remember looking in your cage one evening and finding you sitting on top of your bedding pile, fast asleep. How strange, I thought, that you should be sleeping like this? I didn't think too much of it though at first, I even found it cute. I recorded a video of you sitting there in that odd position, breathing gently and making squeaking noises as you did so, and showed some friends. I was concerned slightly, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. "You was gonna be fine" I told myself.
But the next day you was the same, you hadn't even moved much. Your ears were folded back, you eyes closed and as you breathed your mouth opened and closed slightly. I panicked, and a coldness spread up my arms and back as I realised something might actually be wrong.
The day after I phoned to vet to book you in for an appointment. I continued telling myself you would be fine, this was just a phase you was going through. maybe you was too cold? I turned the heating up, just to make sure.
Then I saw you in your cage.
Something had happened to you, I don't know what, but it was something huge. You'd lost weight, your features chiselled and prominent against your slackened fur. Ears folded right back and eyes tightly shut, you wobbled as you struggled to walk around in your cage. I called your name, panic cracking my voice into a barely audible rasp, and watched and as you craned your neck to look at me. That cold feeling of panic spread over me again, wrapping itself around my head like a terrible wet towel and I opened your cage to get you out. I took you into the kitchen to weigh you and found you had indeed lost weight.
I made you some electrolyte solution which I fed you with a straw and crushed thyme under your nose. I gave you cucumber to eat and apple sauce and thyme, and watched you struggle to move to eat and drink these things.
You seemed to pick up at some points, you would eat and drink more and move around and everything, but then you'd slide back down into this limp and lifeless state.
I took you to the vets for medication which I tried to give you over what was to be the next few days of your life. I'd give you the medicine and electrolyte and then sit for hours and hours with you on my lap as you slept. I could feel you slipping away from me with each forced breath you took. I could almost see the weight drop off you by the hour. It was absolutely horrible and totally heart breaking, but I tried to be strong. I tried to be so strong for you, because you was being strong for me and holding on. But it was so hard for you. So very hard. You struggled to even lift you head now, was barely breathing and you'd lost so much weight it was horrifying. Gone was the Millie that, less than a week ago, was bounding around inside her cage. Now you were in her place, this frail and almost entirely lifeless creature. So weak. So delicate.
The next morning I phoned the vet again and, with a lump in my throat the size of an orange, I made the appointment to have you put to sleep. Then I sat with you gently sleeping on my lap as I felt like the bottom had fallen out of my world.
On the morning of the 4th of January 2012, I took you to the vet one last time so that you could sleep.
My friend Amy (Spangoid) came to visit me so I wouldn't be alone when I took you in. Looking back, I knew I never could have done this on my own. We both made our way up the road to Pets@Home with you in your fleece pouch. I don't actually remember the trip up the road, everything was a blur. I remember leaving my house, then I arrived at the vets. That was all.
We took you into the vet room when our names were called and with your last ounce of strength you poked your head out of the fleece pouch and buried yourself into my sleeve. This must have been so hard for you, you really didn't want to leave me. At that point, more than any other I realised just how strong our bond was, that even in your last moments you wanted to be that close to me. I had to take my coat and sweatshirt off to get you out of there. You really didn't want to leave.
But I had to let you go, I couldn't let you hold on like that and suffer.
The vet took you in the back room for gas euthanisation and then brought you back out to me again so we could be along for a time. That's when it really hit me that you'd finally gone, and I just broke down then, sobbing gently onto Amy's shoulder and in her hair as I held your frail body, stroking you gently. I don't know how long Amy and I stood there with you. It might have been a few minutes, or several hours. I really don't know.
I wish you didn't have to go. I know you didn't want to, you held on for so long for me, you was so strong, right to the end. But I couldn't let you suffer like that, I had to make this decision for you because deep down I knew no matter how I felt, I had to do what was best for you. And I don't think I was as strong as you were, Millie. If I'd seen you suffer any more, it would have pulled me under. It was truly horrible, watching you slip away more and more each day, watching the life drain away from you.
I hope you know I tried to do the right thing, and I hope you're free now, not suffering. Every day I think of you, and every day I miss you. I stand over your empty bin cage, still able to hear you in there sometimes, still able to smell your sweet scent, like new born baby crossed with a gentle fragrance of wood shavings. You've given me so much, Millie, and asked for nothing in return, and if I could do it all again tomorrow I wouldn't hesitate.
I hope you're making lots of friends in Rainbow Bridge. Look out for Tynchie, too. She was a strong girl, just like you. Strong till the end.
I miss you, my dear, sweet, little girl, and I shall never ever forget you.
Background image source: www.dogcatbreeder.com/rainbowbridge.html
All original copyrights respectfully acknowledged
My first ever hamster, Millie, passed away in January of 2012. I wrote a memorial post for her on another forum, but since I'm no longer a member there, I wanted to post it here for prosperity.
Dear Millie,
I hope this letter finds you in Rainbow Bridge, and finds you well. I've wanted to write this letter for some time, but really haven't been able to bring myself to do it. Really I wanted to do it when you were ill, so I could read it to you. I only hope I'm not too late, and that this last message, somehow, gets to you.
I don't think I ever really told you how much you meant to me and how much you got me through things. It was always good to go out somewhere, come back and you'd be waiting patiently for me, ready to greet me. I could go away for a whole weekend and you'd be there waiting, ready to hear about my adventures. You were more than just a pet to me, more than just an animal who lived with me and who's care I was charged with. You were a true friend.
I remember when I first took a keen interest in hamsters. Seems so long ago now. I feel like I've come such a long way though. Well, we both have. My friend Holly had taken in a new hamster, Biscuit, and after seeing how absolutely adorable she was, and hearing from Holly how relatively easy they were to care for, I knew I had to have one. It was funny, my friends really didn't think I was the hamster type. I guess it takes all sorts I remember the many false starts and back and forth trips to Pets@Home when I was waiting, oh so impatiently, until Syrian hamsters had come in stock. I didn't know of hamster adoptions yet, so my first hamster, you, was a store purchase.
My birthday, August 3rd came around and so I got lots and LOTS of gifts. All for you! It was a good day. And I hadn't even picked you up from the store yet, that wasn't until the next day.
So the next day, the 4th, I was all set. I had your cage all set up with bedding, substrate and toys, a bottle of water and small dish of food. I had the crinkly tube, the treats, hamster ball and fleece hammock that I got for my birthday, and the small pet carrier all laid out with bedding ready to pick you up from the store. I walked up the road to Pets@Home, my stomach heavy with nervous excitement! Today I was bringing you home!
I got to the store and the lovely young lady, Kerry went into the back room and brought out three female Syrians in a bucket. Two of the Syrians were milling around in the bottom of the bucket, probably grumpy from being woken from their blissful sleep, and you were wide awake, alert and jumping up and down at the sides of the bucket. You was so excited! Your eyes shone like black pearls as you looked pleadingly up at me. "Take me home!" you seemed to say. So take you home I did. I sat at the bus stop to go back home and I watched you burrow and sniffle around in the bedding in your pet carrier. You was soo so tiny, so delicate looking.
You burrowed around and looked up at me, eyes blinking in surprise as you watched me sitting there grinning from ear to ear. I got you home good and safe, and gingerly transferred you to your new cage.
And then I waited.
Oh how I waited! You had plenty of food and water, so I didn't have to worry about that, but I had to wait for you to settle in to your new home before I could handle you. All I could do was stand and watch as you ran around your cage trying out all your toys.
Finally you'd settled in, so I very carefully put my hand in your cage to try and stroke you, and you'd give my fingers a tentative sniff before running off again! You was so shy at first, and I was so worried about hurting you I was scared to pick you up! Eventually though I got you walking over my fingers and into my hand, so I could carefully lift you out your cage and stroke you, all the time chatting gently to you and offering treats.
And so our new friendship began! Each day I would get you out your cage and sit with you on my lap while I stroked you and massaged your ears (which you loved!) and pretty soon you was running all over me, up and down my arms and in my sleeves. You always loved my sleeves
Before long our bond grew stronger. You trusted me more and more, you'd sit in my hand while you let me cuddle you and give you kisses and talk to you. Sometimes I'd talk to you or even sing when you were in your cage and you'd stand there, ears up and just stare at me as if you didn't quite know what to do with yourself.
As time went on I joined a wonderful hamster forum and found out SO MUCH about you! I thought I knew so much already, but there was lots more to learn. I learned you needed a bigger wheel, so I got you one, and that you needed a bigger home, so I build you a giant bin cage. Later on I made this bin cage bigger still! As you grew, so too did your character. You seemed to have so many different moods and different expressions and you could always convey these to me with certain looks and ear movements. I think you really understood me when I was talking to you, and I think I understood you, too. It was like you trusted me, and you let me into your little world.
I knew this wasn't going to last forever. I always knew that. Nothing this precious is supposed to last, that's what makes it precious to begin with. But I never really thought about you getting old, or falling ill. I always lived in the moment with you, we both did, and I thought all this was such a long way off yet.
But one day, everything changed.
I remember looking in your cage one evening and finding you sitting on top of your bedding pile, fast asleep. How strange, I thought, that you should be sleeping like this? I didn't think too much of it though at first, I even found it cute. I recorded a video of you sitting there in that odd position, breathing gently and making squeaking noises as you did so, and showed some friends. I was concerned slightly, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. "You was gonna be fine" I told myself.
But the next day you was the same, you hadn't even moved much. Your ears were folded back, you eyes closed and as you breathed your mouth opened and closed slightly. I panicked, and a coldness spread up my arms and back as I realised something might actually be wrong.
The day after I phoned to vet to book you in for an appointment. I continued telling myself you would be fine, this was just a phase you was going through. maybe you was too cold? I turned the heating up, just to make sure.
Then I saw you in your cage.
Something had happened to you, I don't know what, but it was something huge. You'd lost weight, your features chiselled and prominent against your slackened fur. Ears folded right back and eyes tightly shut, you wobbled as you struggled to walk around in your cage. I called your name, panic cracking my voice into a barely audible rasp, and watched and as you craned your neck to look at me. That cold feeling of panic spread over me again, wrapping itself around my head like a terrible wet towel and I opened your cage to get you out. I took you into the kitchen to weigh you and found you had indeed lost weight.
I made you some electrolyte solution which I fed you with a straw and crushed thyme under your nose. I gave you cucumber to eat and apple sauce and thyme, and watched you struggle to move to eat and drink these things.
You seemed to pick up at some points, you would eat and drink more and move around and everything, but then you'd slide back down into this limp and lifeless state.
I took you to the vets for medication which I tried to give you over what was to be the next few days of your life. I'd give you the medicine and electrolyte and then sit for hours and hours with you on my lap as you slept. I could feel you slipping away from me with each forced breath you took. I could almost see the weight drop off you by the hour. It was absolutely horrible and totally heart breaking, but I tried to be strong. I tried to be so strong for you, because you was being strong for me and holding on. But it was so hard for you. So very hard. You struggled to even lift you head now, was barely breathing and you'd lost so much weight it was horrifying. Gone was the Millie that, less than a week ago, was bounding around inside her cage. Now you were in her place, this frail and almost entirely lifeless creature. So weak. So delicate.
The next morning I phoned the vet again and, with a lump in my throat the size of an orange, I made the appointment to have you put to sleep. Then I sat with you gently sleeping on my lap as I felt like the bottom had fallen out of my world.
On the morning of the 4th of January 2012, I took you to the vet one last time so that you could sleep.
My friend Amy (Spangoid) came to visit me so I wouldn't be alone when I took you in. Looking back, I knew I never could have done this on my own. We both made our way up the road to Pets@Home with you in your fleece pouch. I don't actually remember the trip up the road, everything was a blur. I remember leaving my house, then I arrived at the vets. That was all.
We took you into the vet room when our names were called and with your last ounce of strength you poked your head out of the fleece pouch and buried yourself into my sleeve. This must have been so hard for you, you really didn't want to leave me. At that point, more than any other I realised just how strong our bond was, that even in your last moments you wanted to be that close to me. I had to take my coat and sweatshirt off to get you out of there. You really didn't want to leave.
But I had to let you go, I couldn't let you hold on like that and suffer.
The vet took you in the back room for gas euthanisation and then brought you back out to me again so we could be along for a time. That's when it really hit me that you'd finally gone, and I just broke down then, sobbing gently onto Amy's shoulder and in her hair as I held your frail body, stroking you gently. I don't know how long Amy and I stood there with you. It might have been a few minutes, or several hours. I really don't know.
I wish you didn't have to go. I know you didn't want to, you held on for so long for me, you was so strong, right to the end. But I couldn't let you suffer like that, I had to make this decision for you because deep down I knew no matter how I felt, I had to do what was best for you. And I don't think I was as strong as you were, Millie. If I'd seen you suffer any more, it would have pulled me under. It was truly horrible, watching you slip away more and more each day, watching the life drain away from you.
I hope you know I tried to do the right thing, and I hope you're free now, not suffering. Every day I think of you, and every day I miss you. I stand over your empty bin cage, still able to hear you in there sometimes, still able to smell your sweet scent, like new born baby crossed with a gentle fragrance of wood shavings. You've given me so much, Millie, and asked for nothing in return, and if I could do it all again tomorrow I wouldn't hesitate.
I hope you're making lots of friends in Rainbow Bridge. Look out for Tynchie, too. She was a strong girl, just like you. Strong till the end.
I miss you, my dear, sweet, little girl, and I shall never ever forget you.
Background image source: www.dogcatbreeder.com/rainbowbridge.html
All original copyrights respectfully acknowledged