I adopted Wicket 2 weeks before his 1st birthday – He was my female
glider's twin brother. His owner  called me and asked if I could take him
because they had a new baby in the house and Wicket was not
getting the attention he deserved and needed. Wicket bonded to both my
husband and myself quickly.
  Rubbing us with his head and chest, he would stay on us rather than
run off – we were his playground.  Wicket liked to be carried in a bra
pouch so he could be snuggled and petted.
  Wicket came to us with his own cage, which was 3'x5', made of
Plexiglas and galvanized wire. Within his cage, his previous people
had hung ropes of various lengths and attached wooden perches for him
to climb and play on. His food and water dishes were placed on a shelf
which was made of galvanized wire.  He sat on the wire shelf to eat and
drink. He slept in a wooden nest box, which was attached to the outside
of the cage with an opening fitted against the Plexiglas.
  Being a single glider, Wicket was given special one on one playtime. I
played with him the evening before our nightmare began and he seemed
fine. Each morning, before I get my coffee, I peek in on the gliders to see
if they are okay and to see how much they ate. I found Wicket clinging to
one of the ropes, rubbing himself on it. He had red (bloodstains) on his
face. I immediately took him out to see what was wrong– it wasn't his
face, but his penile region. It was bloody and his penis wasn't retracting
as it should have. I ran and called the vet. He told me to keep Wicket’s
penis moist so it wouldn’t dry out. Wicket was one step ahead of me.
He had positioned himself so that his penis was in his water dish. I
began soaking his penis as the vet recommended. That night Wicket
chewed part of his penis off.
  We rushed him to the vet where Wicket underwent emergency surgery to
remove his penis. He came home wearing a diaper and an e-collar (he had
the collar off before we pulled in the drive way).
  All that the day he slept my pocket. I put him into a smaller cage at night
so the he wouldn’t jump and further hurt himself - but that was no good.
He wasn’t sleeping but rather focusing on his surgical site.
  We realized we would have to stay up with him 24 hours a day to
protect him from himself. We applied a cream every 3-4 hours which did
seem to help. He was also given warm water dips that he seemed to enjoy.
He had a good appetite and drank water normally. His kidneys and bowels
were working even until the end. We kept up this process for almost 2
weeks. I began to think that the worst was behind us, he would make it.
  Then, one day, almost two weeks after this all began, the twinkle went
out of his eye. He seemed sad and forlorn, he looked at me as if to say
“oh mom, I will miss you“. He knew that he was dying. I knew   it too,
but couldn‘t comprehend it. The surgery had gone well, he had stopped
chewing and was healing, he was eating, drinking, playing, being a normal
glider. My heart screamed “No, this cannot be happening!”. As I held
him there, wrapped in his little blanket, I cooed and kissed him, hand fed
him his favorite food (which he ate) and sang to him.
  Sometime later, my husband came in the room to find me, still holding
Wicket - he had passed away in my hand.