Last night Daisy, our little black and white mouse, died in my hand. She had been showing signs of age (she was about fourteen or fifteen months old, which is not young for a mouse) and signs of possible unwellness and infirmity, but the day before yesterday she was happily snooping around the cage, digging in the bedding for random lost seeds (yum!), and otherwise seemed okay.

Yesterday morning, Miranda picked her up and said, “Uh oh!” because the mouse was quite weak and floppy. She wasn’t able to use her back legs properly, and she was unable to move very well. The other two mice were grooming her and lying on her inside their hidey house, as if they understood she was not well. In the evening, I suddenly had the very strong urge to go and get her out of the cage and pet her, and while she seemed to enjoy the petting for a little while, she then had what looked very like a seizure and died.

In all the years that I’ve had small animals for pets (mice, rats, hamsters, etc.), I’ve never had one that died in my hand. I must say, while it was painful to see her like that, I am grateful that I got to say a proper goodbye to her, and I’m glad I followed my intuition to get her out of the cage.

So, two mice left, both showing every sign of being in good health. I’m seriously considering getting a couple of new young mice to introduce to the two elder ones, for the sake of the company and the ongoing mouse colony.

Goodbye little miss Daisy mouse. It was a pleasure knowing you and loving you. I’ll never forget your sweet face and funny personality.

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