My beautiful, beloved hamster Tinkerbell ("Tinks") passed away this morning from what we believe is wet tail. We tried to do what we could for her but, at the end of the day, it wasn't enough. At least she's no longer in pain like she was before.
Some might say that Tinks was just a hamster, nothing worth grieving for. But she was more than that. She wasn't just some random run-of-the-mill rodent but she had so much personality to her.
Tinks was such a cute little hamster. Before she became sick this weekend, she was always so alert and active. She came right to me whenever I came near her cage, her black eyes wide and curious as she looked around. At night, we could always hear her spinning, spinning, spinning on her hamster wheel. When she first came home, she was so skittish of us, always darting away to the corner when I tried to hold her. But she warmed up to me, I believe, and grew to love me just as much as I loved her.
She always snuggled against me when I nestled her against me. I would stroke her head and she would close her eyes, almost purring. When she wanted to get away, she would wriggle in my arms and I knew to put her right back. When I did put her back, she would either run right to her food bowl, her wheel or her little house. Always running she was. She especially ran out for cheese and carrots, which she loved, even when before she was sleeping like a baby.
Even though she was only with us for a short time, everyone loved Tinks. Her personality lit up a room. Whenever I put her in a ball to run, she would roam the house and her big, curious eyes would take everything in like she was deep in thought. She would respond to her name, her ears perking up.
We could even talk to her at night too and she always seemed to listen. My dad did that every night before he went to bed. He only held her once, last night when we knew she was on death's door. He was too afraid to be bitten otherwise so he only dared to open her cage or the ball and pet her head.
Last night, Tinks still couldn't open her eyes even when we tried to wipe her eyes with a cotton ball. Her back was even more hunched than before. She was cold, so cold that if it wasn't for her movement I would have thought she was dead. Her little body was bloated and it was clear she didn't even have the strength to pass her diarrhea. When she walked back, she was trembling and it was clear her breathing was labored. Most of all, her energy was gone and she only had the energy to move her paws and open her mouth.
My poor sweetheart is no longer suffering, I know. Still, we will miss her dearly. Her burial is tonight and we're making sure to reserve a nice space in the backyard for her.