Here I'm going to tell you the tale of a little boy that was very near a dear to our hearts. A little boy that only got to grace the world with his presence for a few short days, a boy that lost his life far too soon. The description and images I'm about to share with you are going to be hard to see and listen to, so please know that you've been warned.
Do you see that gorgeous little boy to the left? That is David, one of the prettiest and most precious little sugar glider joeys I've come to know and love. He, along with his brother Neal, we're Violet and Cas' first two joeys. They had joeys before, but they were pulled long before we ever got a chance to meet them, or even see them grow to a size larger than a bean. We knew these two would be special. After all, they were the joeys of a glider that was born and raised here, one of the sweetest little girls we own.
Violet was a great mom to these little guys. She was also a nervous mom and decided to keep them IP (in pouch) for an extended period of time. They should have probably been OOP (out of pouch) about 5 days before she actually let them. After all, Neal's eyes started to open at just 2 days OOP. This is something that normally doesn't happen until at least the 5-7 day mark. Knowing that she loved and cared for them so much made us love and care for them even more. We grew exceptionally close to them from day one when Violet's cage mate, Cas, decided he didn't want to partake in his fatherly duties and help babysit the joeys while Violet was able to play and eat. That was fine by us, we had no problem's being the designated babysitters.
Things seemed to be going perfectly for the first couple days, Violet nursed and sang to them constantly. Cas still didn't have much to do with them, he wasn't mean to them or anything, just avoided them as much as possible.
Violet was a great mom to these little guys. She was also a nervous mom and decided to keep them IP (in pouch) for an extended period of time. They should have probably been OOP (out of pouch) about 5 days before she actually let them. After all, Neal's eyes started to open at just 2 days OOP. This is something that normally doesn't happen until at least the 5-7 day mark. Knowing that she loved and cared for them so much made us love and care for them even more. We grew exceptionally close to them from day one when Violet's cage mate, Cas, decided he didn't want to partake in his fatherly duties and help babysit the joeys while Violet was able to play and eat. That was fine by us, we had no problem's being the designated babysitters.
Things seemed to be going perfectly for the first couple days, Violet nursed and sang to them constantly. Cas still didn't have much to do with them, he wasn't mean to them or anything, just avoided them as much as possible.
It was late Friday night, early Saturday morning when everything began to take place. I heard fighting and fussing coming from the glider room, nothing unusual for that hour -- a lot of the gliders like to bicker at one another, but there was something different about this noise, something that told me to go check things out. I've never been one to ignore my gut feeling, so I went to the glider room and decided to check on the two boys.
As soon as I pulled the pouch out, I saw Violet on top, looking out at me. I looked over at Cas, who was kind of slouched over, almost like he was slouched over eating something. When I pushed him off to the side, what I saw under him was nothing I could have prepared myself for. It was David, looking up at me -- his eyes were still closed, mind you -- with blood covering his entire face. I panicked. I grabbed him out as quickly as possible and called for my sister, who was just in the other room. She met me half way, where I proceeded to hand her the pouch with Cas, Violet, and Neal. |
After I gave her a quick rundown of what had happened, she moved Violet and Neal into a zippered bonding pouch and put Cas back in the cage. After I stopped shaking some, we were able to assess just how bad David's face really was. Unfortunately, things were as bad as they looked. David had a few different bite marks on his face, two severe ones that were on his nose. We cleaned the blood off of him the best we could without causing him anymore pain.
We sat for an hour holding him, contemplating what to do with him. Even though it looked as if Cas was the aggressor, we didn't know for sure. We were scared that Violet might cause him more harm if we put him back in the pouch with her. After a long debate, we decided to let her sniff him, just to see how she reacted. To our surprise, she welcomed him with open arms. She groomed him just as if nothing had happened.
For the next few hours, we tried and tried to get him to nurse, all of which were unsuccessful. That was mainly due to the fact that his worst injuries were in his nose, which was constricting his breathing. That's when we decided to mix up some milk replacer and try to feed him ourselves. Again, unsuccessful. We knew that if he wasn't able to breathe, he wouldn't be able to eat, especially on his own. We held him until 5 in the morning, then decided to put him in the cage with his mom and brother.
When I got up the next day for work, I feared the worst when I went to check on him. To my surprise, he was alive and on his mom. He wasn't nursing, which troubled me, but he was alive and that was enough for me! I woke my sister to let her know so that she could get up and feed him. I left for work at noon and got word from my sister around 3 PM that he had eaten 2 different times within the hour, which was fantastic to hear! I continued getting good reports all throughout the day, even reports of Violet cleaning him and doing all that she could do for him, which was equally as exciting.
For the next few hours, we tried and tried to get him to nurse, all of which were unsuccessful. That was mainly due to the fact that his worst injuries were in his nose, which was constricting his breathing. That's when we decided to mix up some milk replacer and try to feed him ourselves. Again, unsuccessful. We knew that if he wasn't able to breathe, he wouldn't be able to eat, especially on his own. We held him until 5 in the morning, then decided to put him in the cage with his mom and brother.
When I got up the next day for work, I feared the worst when I went to check on him. To my surprise, he was alive and on his mom. He wasn't nursing, which troubled me, but he was alive and that was enough for me! I woke my sister to let her know so that she could get up and feed him. I left for work at noon and got word from my sister around 3 PM that he had eaten 2 different times within the hour, which was fantastic to hear! I continued getting good reports all |
throughout the day, even reports of Violet cleaning him and doing all that she could do for him, which was equally as exciting.
I made it home a little before 11 PM. My sister told me that he hadn't ate much within the last couple hours, but we both figured he had got his full. I'm not joking at all when I say he ate his weight in milk replacer.
We tried to get him to eat throughout the night, only getting a couple CCs down him at a time. Still, some was better than none. Around 3 in the morning, this was Sunday morning, he started to have trouble breathing. Much like when the whole incident took place, only worse. He was starting to gasp and breathe out of his mouth way more than he should. By the time we were getting ready for bed, a little after 4 in the morning, he was only able to breath out of his mouth, which was a horrible strain on him, you could tell.
It was against our best wishes, but we decided to leave him be with his mother, hoping that he would be able to recuperate better with her. After all, she would be able to clean him far better than I would.
When I woke the next morning, I walked in the living room, only to find my sister holding David in a pouch, her eyes heaving, as if she hadn't slept in days. When I asked her what was wrong, she began to tell me that she got out of bed not 30 minutes after we had went to sleep. She said that she saw David trying to climb out of the pouch and climb the bars. She ended up getting him out and holding him the rest of the day, all the while trying to feed him... but it was to no avail.
I took him from her so she could go get some sleep.
This is where it's going to get hard for me to talk about. I will spare you the details, as they are extremely graphic and heartbreaking. I held David in my hand from noon up until he took his last breath at 7:08 PM. I cried non-stop from 5 up until 8. I have never, in my entire life, witnessed something like that. Something so pitiful and helpless, suffering.
My heart was broken. I felt like I lost a family member. I held him in my hands for a few minutes, sobbing over his tiny corpse. I prayed that he would make it and still be breathing, but then there was part of me that was relieved that his suffering was over.
I made it home a little before 11 PM. My sister told me that he hadn't ate much within the last couple hours, but we both figured he had got his full. I'm not joking at all when I say he ate his weight in milk replacer.
We tried to get him to eat throughout the night, only getting a couple CCs down him at a time. Still, some was better than none. Around 3 in the morning, this was Sunday morning, he started to have trouble breathing. Much like when the whole incident took place, only worse. He was starting to gasp and breathe out of his mouth way more than he should. By the time we were getting ready for bed, a little after 4 in the morning, he was only able to breath out of his mouth, which was a horrible strain on him, you could tell.
It was against our best wishes, but we decided to leave him be with his mother, hoping that he would be able to recuperate better with her. After all, she would be able to clean him far better than I would.
When I woke the next morning, I walked in the living room, only to find my sister holding David in a pouch, her eyes heaving, as if she hadn't slept in days. When I asked her what was wrong, she began to tell me that she got out of bed not 30 minutes after we had went to sleep. She said that she saw David trying to climb out of the pouch and climb the bars. She ended up getting him out and holding him the rest of the day, all the while trying to feed him... but it was to no avail.
I took him from her so she could go get some sleep.
This is where it's going to get hard for me to talk about. I will spare you the details, as they are extremely graphic and heartbreaking. I held David in my hand from noon up until he took his last breath at 7:08 PM. I cried non-stop from 5 up until 8. I have never, in my entire life, witnessed something like that. Something so pitiful and helpless, suffering.
My heart was broken. I felt like I lost a family member. I held him in my hands for a few minutes, sobbing over his tiny corpse. I prayed that he would make it and still be breathing, but then there was part of me that was relieved that his suffering was over.
He was buried under a bleeding heart bush in our yard. It's a nice, shady place for him to rest. I waited until spring to post this picture, because I knew that it would be a beautiful place after everything bloomed and turned green. I try to go out there daily, just to spend a few minutes with him and reminisce. With that being said, anything can happen when you breed. It doesn't matter if you've been breeding for 2 years or 10. It can happen, it does happen. Most of the time it will happen when you least expect it. That's exactly the case with us, and with a pair we least expected. When you decide to breed, make sure you know what you're getting into. Research, find a mentor, and prepare. |