Death and taxes, well maybe just death

This is Layla giving my father-in-law's dog, Goliath, some love. Goliath and his sister Georgia are adorable little Dachshunds. Who doesn't love a cute little "wiener dog"?
According to Wikipedia, "The standard size was developed to scent, chase, and flush badgers and other burrow-dwelling animals, while the miniature was to hunt rabbits." Unfortunately, my husband and I did not know this little fact about dachshunds but even if we did, I'm not sure we could have predicted the events that happened within 5 minutes of letting them in my FIL's house while he was in sunny CA, and we were supposed to be taking care of everything.
Dachshunds are yapping dogs. Chuck and I can take only so much yapping before we start trying to think of ways to divert their attention to something quieter. On Thursday of last week Chuck had the brilliant idea to let the dogs inside to rest on their little beds. We made sure to lock the cats up so there would be no altercations there and let the dogs have the run of the house. Oh how foolish we were. I was downstairs with the girls and I hear Chuck call to me "Baby, did you put the gerbil's cage on the floor?" Oh. My. God.
Carnage.
Cage on the floor.
Cedar bedding everywhere.
No sign of gerbils.
I flash back to when I was 9 and lost my hamster. I found it weeks later, cowering in the corner of my mom's closet. So I start searching dark corners. I turn, move the desk chair and see it.
Gerbil carcass.
I shriek and Chuck comes running. I think we stood there for a full minute, just staring at the poor dead rodent. Then Chuck speaks. "Do gerbils play dead?" No honey. No they don't.
I found the other one in a guest room.
Let me ask you. Does that puppy in the photo above still look cute?? No, not to me either.
RIP little gerbils. And thank you God for understanding in-laws.