The Great Gerbilarium in the Sky

Picture the scene.  5:15am, we’re all blissfully asleep.  Then, an almighty crash and an 11 year old girl screaming blue murder.  We spring out of bed, and as the haze of sleep ascends, it becomes clear that there is a crisis occurring; someone has left the bathroom door open resulting in one of the cats launching itself at the gerbil cage, tipping it over, springing the top off and releasing the gerbils into the relative wild of the bathroom.  Eric, the aforementioned cat, got hold of Gnasher, the lovely little jet black and shiny emo gerbil, and pegged it downstairs and out of the catflap before Adie could grab the little git by his tail.

So, Gnasher has either been released so Eric could have a play and then scarpered, or been unceremoniously chomped .  Either way, the poor wee thing’s a goner.  Last seen dangling from Eric’s chops as our feline murderer was caught red-gobbed on the back fence by Adie and a torch.  Sniff.

 

Evie, needless to say, was inconsolable and has now decided to be a vegetarian on the basis that her gerbil (Gnasher was hers, Diego is Ruby’s) has been eaten…I’m sure it makes sense when you’re 11.  Bless her.

 

So, Eric has will most definitely be getting his Catbook page revoked, so there’ll be no Nietzsche-based literary discussion with his mates online any more, oh no sirree.  He’s also banished to the back garden for the time being while poor Diego gets his bearings after the trauma, and we’ll be shopping for Gnasher 2 this weekend I expect. 

 

C’est la guerre…

 

x

~ by Rachel on September 12, 2008.