Seems like when you think everything's going great, that bad things happen. Somehow, my female bp "The [bleep]" got out of her cage last week. I think that a friend of mine left the cage open, but I am not pointing fingers. We tore the house apart, top to bottom, and could not find her. Yesterday, my boyfriend yells from the basement that she's down there. I see her coiled up in the rafters.
Keep in mind, this is NY and we have been having subzero temperatures. I am all happy that we found her, but when he took her down, we realized she was cold and dead. I admit, I started bawling, and cried more than I have cried at certain funerals. She was so nice and big and fat, eating ratlings like a champ, and had that priceless attitude that few balls have. And she's the one I rescued from petco a year ago because she was biting people, and she had even begun to tame down a bit.
On a happier (slightly) note, I did get another bp for free from a nearby pet store, where she just wasn't happy. She had no hidebox, pine substrate, and (brace yourself) a hot rock for heat. I got a new cage ready for her (with NO escape routes or door that could easily be left open) and gave her a nice humid hide, since her belly felt really dry, from the heat rock, perhaps? She ended up luxuriating in the new humid hide for a few hours, then hiding out under the newspapar substrate. I am leaving her along for awhile, so she can get used to her new digs. She is such a cutie, and I watched her down a baby mouse before I took her.
I guess that when a door is slammed in your face, somewhere there's an open window... 
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*~Ginevive~*


