No More Degus
A few days ago, my degu Isabell died. She was 9 years old, very old for a degu. She was happy and bright right up until the end; she had a stroke and then passed very quickly.
Her daughter, Daisy, was left alone. Daisy was sad. She sat in the wheel looking bummed. When we cleaned her cage, she made a hole in the bedding and buried her face in it. But yesterday and today she seemed to be perking up a little . . . and then today, she died in her sleep. She was 8 years old.
Isabell and Daisy were both born with us and lived with us, and together, their whole lives. They were both sweet girls who were loving and fun. I will miss their sweet faces.
Her daughter, Daisy, was left alone. Daisy was sad. She sat in the wheel looking bummed. When we cleaned her cage, she made a hole in the bedding and buried her face in it. But yesterday and today she seemed to be perking up a little . . . and then today, she died in her sleep. She was 8 years old.
Isabell and Daisy were both born with us and lived with us, and together, their whole lives. They were both sweet girls who were loving and fun. I will miss their sweet faces.
