The Mouse

Well I came home (from the fucking AFTERNOON FROM HELL--unmedicated Ashley would have cried, for sure) and the mouse had moved to the other side of the cage.

When he squeaks, I give him pedialyte from the syringe and he drinks it and stops squeaking.

I'm thinking that I'm confused between what a critically injured mouse looks like and what a baby mouse looks like.

Are his eyes half open because they aren't fully open yet? Does he squeak frantically every hour or two because he's hungry? Does he not eat peanut butter because he drinks milk?

I don't know. He has hair, but he's smaller than my thumb--tiny, tiny. I'm having a hard time even getting a decent photo. He's perfectly content (or too busy dying to care?) to sit in my hand and he can walk.

So, there will be no murder happening in the Ashley household tonight.

I stole the heat lamp from the chicks (it's 85 degrees out--they will deal), I have the spoon of peanut butter in there, and a shallow thing of pedialyte and water but I plan on syringe feeding him often. I wish I had some baby formula. Would cow's milk be an okay substitute?

What a mess. Trust me when I tell you my plate is plenty full without attempting to nurse newborn mice back to health.