being sian' - too many gerbils

8/14/2019 'Being Sian' - Too Many Gerbils

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Being Sian

Too Many Gerbils

We were over-run with gerbils. At first it started with Dinky, a smooth

shiny baby black gerbil. I loved her. Then James persuaded me that it

should have a husband.

Another female would be better I retaliated. Theyll just keep breeding

otherwise!

Oh, let them have their fun, theyll be happier. He argued, so I gave in.

He didnt seem to care that the babies kept coming every six weeks, and

he didnt bother to separate them once they were old enough to breed.

So the parents carried on as usual. Soon we had nearly sixty, and because

we were both on the Dole, there was never enough money to survive.

Obviously we couldnt afford more tanks, but clever James had a brilliant

idea.

Dont worry. He said, calm and blank as usual. Ill get some sheets of

glass from the window glazers downstairs- I know they throw a lot out.

I knew it was true. They wouldnt care, they knew that Hackney was a

poor area, and they wouldnt say no.

How are you gonna make the tanks though? I said.

Oh, Ill buy some of that sealant stuff.

Yes, but how are you gonna cut the glass?

Oh Ill get a glass cutter.


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3I knew the idea wasnt going to work when he got a shitty one for 1.99,

meant for flimsy jobs, and of course it didnt get anywhere near through

the inch-thick massive panes hed brought home. The prospect of paying

any more for a better one wasnt considered. No, the looking after your

pets notion, begrudgingly awoken from his minimal conscience, wasgetting too expensive now. We were desperate. no, actually I was; only I

worried about things like this. I had all the anxiety.

Instead, James was the expert of makeshift solutions. He decided to

sellotape three panes of glass together and balance them against a wall, to

create a triangle which would form a good enough tank for now. There

were only four corners of the room that we could use. There were more

houses to be built for the bloody things where would I put them all?

The flat became more and more ugly, messy and smelly. I had the nasty

job of cleaning six makeshift tanks, and four proper ones, once a week, but

then James started to complain that all the sawdust and chewed up tissue

bedding was making him cough. Yet he offered no solutions, he just sat

back and moaned, as if the whole thing was my fault, not his. The asthma

provided a brilliant excuse for letting me do all the hard work.

One day as I cleaned a makeshift tank, one of the panes fell backwards

into my leg, leaving an inch-deep gash. Blood gushed everywhere, but I

had no time to worry about my injury, as all the gerbils shot out from the

sudden gaps in their home, taking advantage of their sudden freedom.

Another time on one of my pet cleaning sprees, one of James makeshift

tanks collapsed again. This time the heavy glass pane fell inwards,

towards the poor gerbils themselves. Fortunately a ceramic toy house

broke the fall, making the two-inch difference between survival, or five flat

squashed pets.

One day we were truly embarrassed. We had to have a council worker

round to fix the ceiling light fittings, which had cracked and couldnt hold

any bulbs. He came into the living room and sort of stared around at the

zoo, then he pretended it was all normal and hid his surprise, probably


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4because he was afraid when he saw that it clearly didnt bother James,

who offered no explanation. His eyes travelled to the words written in my

black eye liner pencil, on our white wall:

I FANCY THE WHITE BITCH NEXT DOOR.

I had gone mad a few days earlier because the horny brown gerbil from

the corner tank had shagged the white one from the next tank. James, not

content with the mess we were in for breeding them, thought it was

amusing to allow both sexes to run together during their exercise, so I had

scrawled these huge words on the corner wall of that brown gerbils tank,

in a hysterical attempt at humor.

The worker stared at the words and looked James in the eye.

James smiled and said: Dont mind that, she wrote it.

I felt cornered and explained: Its because they were breeding and I

wanted to make a joke, I thought it was funny at the time.

The worker just raised his eyebrows and tried to smile in agreement, but it

didnt work very well. Soon after that the Manager from the Council paid

us a visit about Housing Benefit forms, and when he saw them, frowned

and looked very stern.

Youve got six weeks to find homes for them or rehouse them properly.

He said.

James, as ever, didnt look perturbed in the slightest. Despite appearing to

agree with this plan, he did fuck all as usual, even after this warning. Wehad been threatened with eviction if we failed to comply, but even at this,

James face remained blank and utterly unworried, totally expressionless.

Tonight when I came home from shopping James was in an elated mood

from the Speed hed been taking for the past day and a half with no sleep.


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5He told me hed been feeding some of his hash to the gerbil babies, and

they had started running around like mad, their black fur wet and sticking

up in the air. They looked dehydrated like little sacks. He said they have

lost weight. I ignored it and laughed along with him. I didnt want to

have a go at him and spoil his fun, and make him angry with me.Anyway, he seemed concerned about them now and even sounded

regretful that they werent well, and put them back in their tank.

Then James confessed that two mothers had been fighting when he made

them run together on their exercise. They were locked into each others

necks, when hed tried to separate them hed got bitten, and he flung the

mother from his hand to release it but she smashed against a wall and

died. Others were dying here and there. One allegedly got his leg brokenin a fight, and died three days later. It didnt heal right. He explained to

me.

Another gerbil was running on the floor and got into a cupboard where he

ate some ant killer. I was there at the time. It was very sad to see him

struggle back into his tank with his last ounce of strength, then collapse,

bleeding from the mouth. Oh, that bitch who lived here before us must

have laid the ant killer downI didnt know it was there He said. One

baby got trapped under a bit of wood when it got dislodged from the

sawdust after they had burrowed into it. When it was lifted the little

gerbil was as flat as a sheet of paper. James just looked at it and laughed

at how Look, it was all flat and there was no blood or nothing and how it

was, All cute and furry even though it was dead.

I wasnt there to see most of these incidents. James told me himself when

I returned home. Once I read a book on psychopaths, and so many of the

attributes were like James that my blood had run cold. Then I thought,You need to have more similarities than two or three to really make him a

psychopath. Im just being paranoid.

One day I had enough. I was sick of it all. I had to get rid of them. None of

the pet shops would take them, and I spent hours on bus journeys looking


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6for places to ask, and just grew tired and irritated and miserable. So I

decided to give the RSPCA a call. I was mortified explaining my situation. I

could never manage to sound like a responsible pet owner, no matter how

hard I tried. At best, they were refusing and giving me another branches

phone number, where I left a frantic message; at worst, I got threatenedwith arrest by a particularly rotten bossy bitch, who likewise didnt like the

sound of my voice and was also in a shitty mood.

Oh my God I thought. I cant believe this.

Im sitting here calling branches of the RSPCA all over the country, because

of his stupid attitude, breeding them in the first place. Then my phone

rang. A woman from the RSPCA told me she was willing to take my gerbils.She had some space in her house, she said, so how many did I have? I

didnt want to give her an honest answer, and tried to play it down. She

left her address and told me to bring them over. I rang a cab number,

mentally arranging the tanks in my head.

When James came through the door, I told him about the bit of good luck.

James astonished me by behaving like a man for once, offering to carry

them down with me. I couldnt believe it. Even though he was barely

polite as he did so, his face hard and unrelenting, I was glad of his help.

Yet my heart caved in a little more with each second he detached from me.

As we stacked the long glass tanks on top of each other in the back seat of

the car, he did so roughly, with a hostile impatience. He didnt look at me

once, and when he was finished he didnt turn to say goodbye. He showed

no interest in where I was going to, or even offer to join me. It struck me

that he was glad I was going to disappear for the day, giving him the

opportunity to do his own secret activities.

I was a bit concerned at the precarious balance of tanks, hoping they

wouldnt topple with each brake the driver made along the way. I also

hoped that the Police wouldnt pass us on the road, or notice how they

were stacked so dangerously, blocking the drivers rear window. I sat

beside the driver and looked back at all the sweet little pets that had been


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7such a huge part of my life. I felt sad, especially about Mabel, the sweet

silver grey mother of many babies, who Id become attached to the most.

She always had a busy, caring aura, pottering about with a mission in

mind, scampering over me in her innocent way. She never got nasty or bit

me once. Of all the gerbils, losing Mabel broke my heart the most.

I suddenly remembered the time when she chewed through the lead of

the vacuum cleaner wed bought for our new flat together. It was a

shame, it had been fairly expensive, and we had got it from the

accommodation grant that we were awarded from the Dole Office. I

remember being anxious to buy the things we needed before James took a

huge chunk of it. To him it was like winning a small Lottery; an unexpected

free bout of drug money.

He had already wasted 200 unnecessarily on a Sky Digital channel box,

which became free a month later with the subscription. That seemed like

a lot of money wasted, with no possibility for a refund. No-one could have

foreseen that offer would be available, but I felt really screwed. I blamed

James for that, even though technically he didnt know either; I resented

his stubbornness on the issue that day. I had begged him not to spend it,

arguing that we also needed a microwave, and wed never afford it now on

our Dole money alone. He wasnt bothered, and dismissed it. It never

seemed to matter to him whether he ate or not, as long as he had Speed

and Cannabis. One day I was vacuuming the flat when I noticed the hole in

the lead.

The gerbils have chewed it! I told him, disappointed.

He looked over, unconcerned, and told me to leave it.

Ill patch it up with tape. He said.

Is that safe? I asked, filled with doubt.

Itll do till I get electrical tape.


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8True to his nature, of course he never went out and bought any. That was

expensive stuff, about four quid, and he could get two Speed tablets for

that down Tottenham Court Road. Brown parcel tape is all I got, with his

reassuring order:

Dont touch it, youll get fried.

Of course I didnt let that stop me using it, even though the wires inside

the tube were barely connected, after his makeshift job. Every time the

lead bent in a different direction the vacuum stopped, and Id have to

switch it off at the mains and push the tape back in place.

I was determined to vacuum the floors regardless. Having a clean, tidy flatgave me the illusion of the peace and order that was lacking in my life with

him. The vacuum eventually died altogether. When I tried to use it a

week later, sparks flew from the gap in the lead, and it blew the lights and

the T.V. That seemed to concern James more than the house not being

clean; the faulty vacuum interrupted the programme he was watching.

What am I going to do now? I stormed.

I dunno. Isnt there electrical shop down the road? Take it there, they

might fix it. He offered.

So I took it there, afraid that the cost of repairing the wire would be nearly

as high as the vacuum itself. The Asian guy inside was okay though,

fortunately. He must have seen how upset I was because he only charged

me a fiver. I went home jubilantly, and gloried in the fact that I could now

use my vacuum, as good as new, without being afraid of electrocution. It

was a great feeling. After weeks of being miserable over a chewed up oldwire, I ran the new smooth one through my fingertips with joy. Now it

didnt matter that James was an asshole; he couldnt stop me cleaning my

flat now. I enjoyed it more that now he was gone out of it, unable to spoil

my buzz with his sour nasty face.


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9The next day I went out shopping, and returned home to find James had

gone out for some hash. That made sense, hed start to get tetchy when

he was running low, even more grumpy than usual. Still, I was surprised,

because we didnt have any money left apart from the six pounds Id just

bought food with. It became clear now though, as I unpacked theshopping and opened the cupboard in the kitchen where we kept the

dustpan and brush. The vacuum was gone. Annoyed, I searched the

whole flat looking for it, thinking that I must have left it somewhere and

forgotten about it. Just then, James came in.

Wheres the vacuum? I asked him.

Oh, I sold it. He replied blankly.

When?

Today.

I was really pissed off, but some tiny thought entered my brain that maybe

now at least, wed have more money to get through the week.

How much did you get for it? I asked him, curious to find out. I

expected him to say ten or fifteen pounds.

A fiver. He replied, cool and relaxed as he hit the couch suddenly,

reaching for his pouch of tobacco to roll another joint.

You didnt even ask me, I was looking for that vacuum for ages. I

complained.

He had lost interest now, staring instead at the T.V as he pointed the

remote control at it with glazed, detached eyes. I remembered with

resentment all the times hed complained about me using the dustpan and

brush when the vacuum lead was chewed, or wed run out of dirt bags and

couldnt afford more.


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10The dust is killing me, its making my asthma worse. Hed moan. Leave

it, well get vacuum bags.

That would never happen, and hed complain then that all the gerbils

were creating dust from their tanks as they chewed up paper andshredding their nest bedding:

Creating fibres theyre going straight into my lungs. Hed explain angrily.

I just couldnt win. I wasnt allowed to clean the floors, but whenI didnt,

it was the animals fault. It was actually his fault for breeding them against

my wishes in the first place. Poor gerbils, now they are getting punished

for his irresponsibility now.

We were here now at last. Lost in thought, I hadnt noticed the journey. I

had forgotten I was even inside the cab. As the driver stopped outside the

house, the RSPCA woman stood at her front door, waiting anxiously. I felt

embarrassed now at all the tanks I actually had for her. Over the phone it

was easy to bluff, but not now. She could clearly see how many there

were. She got a bit panicky as each one kept on appearing, large, bulky

and never ending, from the deceptively small cab seat.

I hope I have enough room for all these. She said, worried.

I started to feel even more guilty inside her house, because it was tiny

inside and crammed to the roof with cages, stacked on top of each other

and filling every possible corner. Hamsters came out to sniff through bars,

and guinea pigs snuggled with rabbits in poky brown hutches. She saw me

looking, and said;

I had to bring them home with me, they were going to put them down at

work. They didnt find homes.

I felt an unstoppable wave of rising shame, which refused to leave, so I did

instead, as quickly as possible. No words of genuine gratitude would ever

compensate for the way I had tricked this poor, kind hearted woman. I


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11started to resent James even more, for causing this problem. It wasnt him

who ended up fixing it, it was me. Yet again; I solved the problems that he

constantly created.

He reminded me of mould that keeps growing on the damp walls of ahouse. I am the clean soapy cloth that wipes away the damage, just for it

to reappear eventually. In that moment I reached a new planet of thought

from deep within me. I actually considered that perhaps we may not be

together much longer, that I deserved better than this shit. I felt free

thinking it, even though it will probably never happen.

copyright@emmasharn2009

being sian' - too many gerbils

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