Goodbye, Galaxy

Our first family hamster, Galaxy, passed on this morning. Our helper discovered it under the staircase in the basement of its enclosure, deathly still and lifeless, yet serene. I observed Galaxy in her resting posture for a long time, silently bading farewell to her and thankful that she seemed to depart in a peaceful and painless mien. 

She came into our family around April 12 last year, as a present for Big Bee's 6th birthday. She grew fatter and fatter with each passing month. She was still gargantuan, like a hulking matriarch, a couple of months back, when Big Bee and I observed that she could barely fit into her little hamster tower. 

Yet, in the past month, I started noticing her gradual reduction in size. She became scrawnier, less active. No more of the nocturnal squeaky sounds emitting from her hamster wheel that accompanied me when I was on the computer until late at night. Her usually thick, fluffy and hale creamy fur became more unkempt and thinner. Soon, her gaunt self became alarming and just on Sunday night, I noticed that she had difficulty climbing up the stairs to the second level of her house. 

I started warning Big Bee that the end is nigh for Galaxy, as she is getting old. She accepted this with sadness and quiet resignation, and was hence not overly distraught when she discovered Galaxy's death after school.

Once pets age, that downhill process will be rapid. I had 2 beloved dogs, Vicki and Boy Boy, whose elderly selves were mere diluted shadows of their glorious and vivacious youth. Peace be with them now. And to Galaxy too.

In the meantime, Pebbles Junior, that stray hamster whom we adopted early this year, is healthy and well. It is putting on weight now (I could not decipher if it is a male or female hamster) and becoming more and more active. I always stare at it in wonder, amazed at how a single act of easy help can save it from the clutches of possible fatality.