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Here's where I gush over my own little (diminishing) herd. Now that I have a digital camera, I can take pictures of my little babies all the time!
Ebenezer, R. I. P. January 1, 2006, approx. 10:00 pm Right after Ichabod died, I could have sworn that Ebenezer was on his way out. Not so much because he seemed lost without his buddy, but because he started coming down with some of the same symptoms that Ichabod (and all my other wheezy little rats) had. But despite many moments when I thought he was a goner, and more than one panicked trips to the vet, Eb fought long and hard. Finally, six months after the beginning of his ill health, I finally had to let him go. Even after having been sick for so long, after months of being unable to run around because he could barely breathe, after being unable to eat his favorite foods without pausing for air, the little guy still kept fighting. I felt so miserable watching him struggle to keep breathing and hanging on to consciousness long after I thought he'd go down. It killed me to have to keep asking myself if maybe I wasn't being premature. Maybe he's still happy. Maybe he'll perk up and be okay for a while longer. Maybe. I know that those are questions that never stop haunting those who've had to decide between another living being's life an death. But I also know that Eb couldn't have lived forever, and I know that whatever had been killing him wasn't ever going to get better. Even if he had hung on, he still wouldn't be able to run, eat much, or play with other ratties. And that had always been the worst part of seeing him become ill. Long before I put him down, I mourned the passing of the days when I used to call Eb "fathead," (sometimes also "asshead" for his unbelievable rattie willfulness). I missed the days when he would chase my little girls around like the lardy old man-whore that he was. I missed listening to him run in his rat wheel--he was one of the only rats I could ever coerce into using it. I missed the big, lazy, good-for-nothing-but-so-cute-you-couldn't-resist-him Ebenezer. I missed a rat who was already long gone. Still, his resilience continually amazed me, and I feel like I failed him. He fought so hard, and I couldn't even stop him from getting worse. I could only watch, and look for signs that he was tired of fighting, signs that I don't think he ever entirely displayed, even when every moment was an obvious battle for him. Goodbye my stubborn little fathead. I miss you so much, big guy!   While at a conference in Madison, WI, I snuck away to the local animal shelter and picked up two new little fluffballs. Ebenezer happens to be a dumbo rat. Just check out those adorable oversize ears! Ah, if only these little guys would hold still so I could get decent pictures of them... Anyway, Ebenezer is an adventurous guy, always getting into trouble, trying to squeeze into places that he's much too large to squeeze into. Whoever said male rats were more sedate than females?! He quite a charmer of the ladies, too. Silly Ebenezer. Ichabod, R.I.P. May 13, 2005 For some reason, Ichabod's just been so hard to write about. Maybe because I wasn't there for him when he passed, maybe because he'd been sick for so long and had required so much care I almost felt closer to him than my other kiddos. Still, he remains difficult to talk about, and I miss him greatly.  Besides being absolutely adorable, Ichabod is a sweetheart. Even though I know he's secretly a little mischief maker, he's the perfect gentleman around strangers, which makes him my prime candidate for shoulder-rat-in-training. He's still a little jumpy from time to time. I think he's still overwhelmed by living with five other rats. But he's just so cute! Martha Stewart, R.I.P. 15 February 2005, approx. 10:00 pm I just don't know what happened with little Martha. She had been sick a few weeks before. She was having gasping attacks and couldn't breathe so I rushed her to the vet just a week after I lost little Eboshi. However, a pretty vigorous course of antibiotics, bronchiodialators, and anti-inflammatories seemed to bring her problem under control. Initially I hadn't been able to let her out of her small little carrier cage because any kind of movement seemed to bring on an attack. But after her treatment started she had been a happy, healthy little rat again. The gasping attacks stopped and she was able to run and play with her buddies just like old times. So I was completely unprepared for what happened tonight. As I went to let my babies out of the cage, I saw she was gasping again. I immediately took her out of her cage and tried to calm her, but she was clearly struggling. I could hear her kind of gurgling as she kept panicking and gasping for air. This went on for a few minutes, and then she just gave a final gasp and went still. There was nothing I could do--it happened so fast and without any warning at all. All I could do was hold her and try to comfort her until I felt her little rattie heart stop. Words can't describe how awful it feels to be so powerless to help a creature that you love so much. It was so unexpected. Things had been going so well. She seemed happy again, just like her old self. I can't believe that she could be gone, just like that. I don't know how other rat owners can take so much heartache...   Yes, I named my rat Martha Stewart and no, I was not trying to imply that the human Martha Stewart was a rat. In fact, I adore the domestic goddess almost as much as her furry counterpart. And Martha Stewart the rat tends to live up to her namesake. Not that she goes around making her own doilies, but she is remarkably fastidious from time to time, not to mention tenacious! Eboshi, R.I.P. 26 January 2005, approx. 11:00 am I knew Eboshi didn't have much of a chance when I brought her in for surgery. It was partly my fault. I waited until her tumor was huge. But she'd struggled so with her first operation that I didn't want to risk taking away what little time she might have left with another surgery until it was unavoidable. Still, she did so well during the surgery, I thought she might make it. I thought maybe she could have a few more tumor-free months to run around like she used to and play with her friends. So when she passed away just as she was coming out of surgery, it just broke my heart. I wish I could have been there, so at least she would have known that I didn't abandon her, that I was trying to give her every possible chance. I wish that there were a way to make them understand, and to know how they felt and what they wanted so they wouldn't be scared in their last minutes. I guess that's asking too much.  Ah, what a squirrelly little rat she is. Camera shy, fidgity, and frequently chewing on things she ought not be chewing on--that's little Eboshi in a nutshell. Yet, it's impossible to stay mad at her for very long. She is absolutely the cutest little creature on the face of the earth. The photo here doesn't do her justice. For updates and photos regarding poor little Eboshi's tumor, click here. Gozer, R.I.P. 19 September 2004, approx. 2:30 am I still remeber the first time I saw Gozer. I was adopting my two ladies from a girl who had purchased two female rats form the local pet store only to find out that they were both pregnant. Needless to say she ended up with a lot of baby rats on her hands who needed good homes. At the time, I couldn't really imagine taking in more than two, but I was so excited about having two baby rats to call my own. Vep was easy to pick, of course. Being the curious thing that she was, she just screamed, "take me home!" But Gozer... well, she was a little different. When all the other little baby rats were climbing around, curious about the stranger who was peering into their cage, Gozer was at the bottom of the cage, taking advantage of the opportunity to eat all the food in the food dish. In a way, I always kind of thought of her as the runt of the litter, even though she was bigger than all the other little baby rats. Anyway, there was something about her. I guess I was afraid that she was so anti-social that she would never find a home and end up back at the pet store as snake food. Whatever the reason, I never regretted my decision, even when she spent the first few weeks trying to eat my fingers. During the past few months, Gozer's health had been going steadily downhill. The first thing I noticed was that she was walking funny and having trouble holding her food. So I started giving her Glucosamine/Chondroitin suppliments, which seemed to help for a while. But I guess there's only so much you can do to stop old age. Her arthritis gradually got worse. In her last fews days of life, she couldn't hold food at all. And on top of it, she had serious respiratory problems. She never really wheezed in any kind of serious or consistant way, but it was obvious that her breathing was labored. After a while, I started using an over the counter inhaler (a bronchiodialator) to help her in times of distress. And I started her on antibiotics (in part because she had an ear infection as well). I had hoped that she would at least stabilize, but I guess her time was coming. She got thinner and thinner every day and had more and more trouble breathing. Then, tonight I noticed that her lips, tail and feet were all turning blue and she showed no interest in food at all. I knew it was finally time to let her go. Not that that made it any easier. As much as I know that she wasn't enjoying life anymore, it's still so hard to let her go...   Ah, Gozer the Bulldozer. Yes, when she was young and frisky she used to just plow her way through anything with brute strength. Now, she's a pretty mellow girl. She's getting cuddlier by the day, although she's a little cranky at times. But despite her gruff exterior, she just a big softie on the inside. Vep, R.I.P. 20 September 2004, approx. 1:30 pm   Easily the sweetheart of the group, she is the most gentle rat I have ever seen. She is also the most curious rat I have ever seen. She has been found everywhere from under the sofa to the top shelf of my closet (I never figured out how she got up there). Unfortunately, she was the first of my ratties to develop a tumor and even though she's doing very well after surgery, she suffers from major health complications every now and then. She's been chronically plagued by unidentified respiratory problems such that she's had x-rays taken of her lungs. The poor thing is practically a walking medical miracle. |
