My first pet was a gerbil I got when I was eight years old. I begged and begged for the little guy, and finally my parents gave in. Of course, like most kids, I got my initial thrill, and then the novelty started to wear off. But the responsibility didn't, and I had to keep taking care of the gerbil for several years to come.
One night the little guy got accidentaly crushed in a door. I used to let him run around for exercise, and he was on one of those runs when my sister opened the door and he got squeezed between the frame and the door. Blood was pouring out of his nose, and his legs looked broken. Mom helped me patch him up as best we could, and then it was a long night of waiting. Mom brought a hot water bottle and we covered it in a towel and put it next to where he was sleeping. I remember crying with Mom as we watched over his little body.
Miracleously, he survived, and went on to live for many years. But I never forgot that harrowing night. I t was my first experience of watching helplessly while something -- or someone -- struggled to survive. I learned something that night. A hard lesson for an eight year old, but a good education nonetheless.
The magnificent Zhu Zhu Pets Princess Castle
No comments:
Post a Comment