"Curiosity killed the cat" doesn't just apply to felines. Our sweet little Natasha died horribly two days ago by drowning in an open toilet. Like Houdini's owners (see his memorial site), we had been aware of this hazard and tried to be almost neurotically careful about making sure the toilet was shut. The bathroom was the only room in our log house where the gliders couldn't get lost or escape through chinks in the walls, so we let them play there every night, after making sure to put away all the soap,
razors, shampoo, etc. and making sure the toilet was shut. Nevertheless, on several occasions, a different person each time (including a house sitter whose instructions had warned about open toilets) had left the toilet open by mistake or in a hurry, and at least twice before, the gliders had jumped
or fallen in. The other times, they had managed to stay afloat and were quickly rescued each time with apologies and promises and good intentions of never, never letting it happen again. Saturday night they weren't so lucky. They had only been in there a little while, and when we went to
check, there was poor Natasha already drowned, and Amelia who had somehow escaped or perhaps tried to help her, soaking wet and hiding up on the door frame. Attempts at resuscitation were failures. Her little body with its bulging eyes and gaping mouth was already getting stiff. It was so horrible. We all feel to blame, especially the person whose turn it had been to let them out to play, who had gotten distracted because it was late, we had just come home from a movie, someone had left eyeglasses
in the bathroom and he had deviated from his set-up routine to remove them lest the gliders break them, etc. etc. Lots of reasons, but no good excuse for leaving a known hazard where the trusting gliders could fall in and die.
    Natasha was always our bold one. She had been hand raised in a family and was used to people from birth. She trusted us and felt safe gliding around wherever she could.  This was not her first brush with death. She had been in my son's pocket asleep when his brother shoved him, not realizing
she was there. That time, she had acted like a head injured patient, shaking her head and wobbling. A visit to the Emergency Clinic (30 miles away) and x-rays couldn't find anything wrong and she recovered. Then she figured out how to undo the clothespins we used to secure the doors on her cage (a big double finch cage so the doors just lifted up), and she got out while we were all away, and my older son, who had come home to pick up a video game, found her unconscious on the floor after apparently being tossed about by both the cat and the dog, who were standing over her. Another frantic night ride through a snow storm to the Emergency Clinic, where more x-rays couldn't find anything broken though there was blood in her urine from internal injuries. She got over that, too, and still kept her trusting and snoopy nature. Then the toilet episodes -- we always believed she must have jumped or fallen in first because she was the adventurer and Amelia the follower (and yes, they ARE the kind of foolish creatures who would answer "Yes!" to the proverbial parents' question, "If all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you jump after them??"). She didn't seem to learn -- in fact, what she probably learned was that it was great fun and someone would always come fish her out before it got scary. This time we didn't.
    We all feel horrible. Everyone feels partly to blame. Every time we have to use that toilet, we shudder and picture her gasping and struggling for her life. Amelia may die of depression and grief, although we are trying to find another glider to keep her company or a good SAFE home where she can
be with other gliders if they will accept a new friend. She is not a friendly glider, so it will not be easy to place her.  If you are reading this, you probably already have a glider, so all I can say is, "Be careful and NEVER leave them alone, even though that is inconvenient and probably limits their playtime and independence. If you are considering getting a glider, I would recommend selecting a different pet. They are truly meant to live free where they can fly around and live in the big groups that they naturally belong to. They are social animals and even having two is not enough for them to be really relaxed and happy. Ours used to "bark" plaintively, sometimes up to 200 times in a row at 4:00 AM every morning, presumably calling desperately for friends who would never answer. We played with them and gave them love, but it was just not the same. They are sweet and cuddly and almost unbearably cute, but that is no reason to punish them by depriving them of the freedom and society that they crave.  Get a pet who really prefers to live in a house with people. Even our old pet rat, surprisingly enough, really hated the outdoors and would creep up on our shoes and tug our pants to be picked up and taken back inside. He loved us and would come up to our rooms looking for us, or sit in our favorite chairs waiting for us to come back, if he were let out for playtime. Natasha liked us well enough and would hang out on our shoulders or glide over to us, but it was obvious her real life was being with her glider friend and looking for ways to escape. She found one, but it was an escape out of this world entirely. If there is any other world for gliders to go to when they leave this one, I hope she finds it and is wild and free there at last.