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This picture was taken two weeks before he died. Dickory was my first mouse loss. It took months to mourn him.
I assume from the fact that his fur had already begun to darken when this picture taken, that he was an old mouse. Maybe that's why he and Hickory got along so well. He appeared healthy until the day he died, although I was a novice mouse person then--I might have missed something. The only time they were apart was when I neutered Hickory, Dickory and Doc in an attempt to get all three to live together peacefully. Doc just refused to come around, but lived happily enough with Una, an antisocial female. (They had a lot in common.)
Dickory and Hickory had a huge 25 gal. bachelor pad. They got on well, and Dickory finished out his days here with me, instead of that tiny tank crammed full of mice. I do not regret buying Dickory and the boys, but I wouldn't do that now. But if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have the menagerie I have now. Dickory was always gentle--even when he had his goolies. I guess he learned a lot living in that pet shop tank. He was always very calm and he seemed wise. He passed this to Hickory, I think, in whatever way mice pass things from generation to generation. He never displayed aggression, or bit anyone, and he has the dubious honour of being the first rodent ever to piddle on my hand. I still miss him. My Old Man.

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