Last night, when I was feeding my mice, I couldn't find Pie. I looked all around the tank, but she was nowhere to be seen. I called my mom in, and at first, she couldn't find her either. But then, she lifted up their shelter, and found her. She was flattened against the ground, and Cookie was fearfully walking around and over her. Her body was limp, and her chest was not expanding for breath. Nature took its toll. Pie was dead.
Pie, like Oatmeal, had come down with some form of cancer. Pie's, however, was seemingly much worse and obvious than Oatmeal's. Oatmeal had a very small lump on her back about the size of a chocolate chip. Pie's tumor started growing on her side, and it swelled to a very large size; about the size of a grape. She had begun to scratch at it, which caused it to bleed. Black scabs formed on her wounds. At first, it didn't seem to bother her, but then when it started to get bigger, it got in the way of her paw and she had to limp everywhere. It was painful to watch Pie going through this horrible deal, but what were we to do? If we brought her to an animal hospital, there'd be a chance she wouldn't get through, and we would've wasted money. Mice only live around three years, so even if we did have her healed, she wouldn't live too long afterward. We just had to let nature take its course, as sad as it was. And it did.
Unlike Moo, who went crazy after Oatmeal died, Cookie seems to have a better understanding of what was happening. She always groomed and stayed close to her sister when she was ill, and she doesn't appear to be crushed by the loss.
We're going to bury Pie in the backyard. I'm sad that she's gone, but at least wherever she is, she's in a better place, and no longer has to suffer.