Death.

Like taxes and telemarketing calls during dinner, death is one of the few certainties we encounter; and yet no matter how often the Grim Reaper comes knocking we can never become quite used to it.

Some people incorrectly believe that there is no such thing as a soul, that death is nothing but a lack of life.  I have a hard time with this as the corollary would then suggest that life is nothing but a lack of death, and what a depressing thought that is.

In the grand scheme of the cosmos, one might question the significance of the passing of one small, frail, hamster, but in the passing of this life lies an inspiration we can look to in our own lives: things can end at any time.

And that brings us to Rhinee, beloved brother to Rhino, son to Brett and Mathilda, cousin to many and friend to all.

Who doesn’t remember Rhinee as the fun loving rodent he was?  Full of life, always running, never getting anywhere.

In talking with the family before this ceremony, they were reminded of the many times during which Rhinee would be placed in the sink while the cage was being cleaned.  The sink, with it’s polished surface and steep inclines, posed a challenge for Rhinee, one to which he always took head on, never letting failure present itself as an option.  Rhinee was stubborn, determined and a fighter.

It is not clear how long Rhinee was stuck there in the cage, trapped between the bars of the upper level and the side of the cage, but when he was found he was still kicking, despite any damage he had done to himself.  He appeared to be fine but in the days following the incident he ran every day, less and less.  As the cage was cleaned and as new food and water were added, he continued to eat and to drink, less and less.

Concern set in for the family when he seemingly lost the use of his back legs and just lay there; his brother Rhino showing his concern by stepping on him to get to the running wheel, as if to say, “You may not run anymore, but I will continue to run enough for both of us.”

In the end Rhinee’s breathing slowed and he just lay there, responsive to only a slight blowing between the bars.  A twitch of his eyelid and of his whiskers the only signs of life.  Soon, even these disappeared and he lay there, the light from his eyes had gone out.

And as the family prepared Rhinee’s body for the cat, they reflected on what a good pet he had been.  As they removed the feet so that the tiny claws would not scratch the cat’s throat, they remembered the hours of entertainment Rhinee had provided, like that one time where he pooped in their hands as they held him.  That was Rhinee right there - always the prankster.

As they set the dinner plate down, they took pause and thanked the maker for such a wonderful life, and as they watched the cat devour Rhinee they smiled, for even in death they saw how much Rhinee could still offer the living.

With the final lip-smacking chew, as Rhinee’s tail disappeared from sight, the family realized he was finally gone and they wept as they mopped up some of the bloody bits that had made their way to the kitchen tile.  These last bits of Rhinee they threw in the trash can so that they may be preserved forever in the city dump.

Rhinee, you will be missed by us all, and wherever you may be right now, may the water bottle never leak, may the tissues be three-ply and may the wheel keep on spinning forever.

God bless.

Filed under: Life Happens