Puck was a special Sugar Glider. We named him after the mischievous sprite from Shakespeare. We had his parents, Samson and Delilah, when he was born. He looked like a hairless little, long-tailed mouse then. I once saw him leap into his mother’s arms. So precious. The three of them were the first “kids” Ries and I had.
He was a sweet boy. He was small, like his mother. After Samson died, he was a solitary glider, but I do not think he minded so much. Our room is a lot quieter at night now, without him running around his cage. Puck traveled in his life. He visited Ohio and went camping once. He loved baby food bananas and squash. He adored cantaloupe and meal worms. He rode on Pullo’s back once, which Pullo was not too fond of and he put up with Wicket’s puppy curiosity with patience.
Last year, he had necrotic spots on his ears and tail. We had them removed and he has been fine since. The vet, an exotic specialist, said he was the gentlest and oldest sugar glider she had ever seen.
Puck would have been 12 years old in March. He lived 11 years and died in his bed of old age. We will bury him beside his parents in the backyard.
Defying Genetics 