Ratablog

Neiko: ??-August 19, 2006

Abita and I made the decision to help our last girl, Neiko, to her final nap today. As we had discussed before, she had developed some tumors. Even with the tumors, she was pretty active up until about last week, she could (and would) climb the ramps to the upper levels. Recently, though, she started spending all of her time in the lower level. Also in the last couple of weeks, she started losing weight at a faster pace, and I think most of her nourishment was from the Boost and yogurt I gave her daily.

She first came into our lives on September 4, 2004, when we adopted her, along with four boys and two other girls, from our friend in Pennsylvania. She was an adult at that time, and in fact, had given birth to a litter of rats. We're certain either Misto or Rabskuttle was one of her sons; it's sad when you think she outlived her children. She was a sweetie, as all of our girls have been, with the softest fur you've ever petted.

One of our first pictures of Neiko, walking around like she owned the place. Maybe not the place, but certainly us :~)

Our last picture of Neiko--I'm sorry it's out of focus. I think you can see how tired she is, but still, she held her head up with dignity.

Missing Roo

It's hard to walk into the rat room and not see Roo's head pop up in greeting. She was always curious and loving and eager to crawl onto my shoulder when I took her out of the cage.

In the waiting room at the e-vet four days ago I cuddled with her and she crawled up toward my shoulder. She didn't quite make it all the way, so I cupped my hand over her to hold her in place. Abita asked if I had my cameraphone; I didn't and she didn't have hers. I turned around and I saw why she wanted a camera--in the reflection Roo was curled on my shoulder, her head against my neck.

See ya later, sweetie.

Jim - ? 2003 - 5 March 2006

We let Jim go.

On the way to the vet he was gasping for air. They put him on oxygen right away, but even 90 minutes in the O2 tank didn't seem to help him much. The x-ray didn't show anything remarkable in his lungs, and the best the emergency vet could offer was leaving Jim there overnight to have more tests next week. At best, the vet said, the prognosis was "guarded to poor."

At Jim's age, and with the rapididty with which these symptoms flared up and knocked him down, I didn't have confidence that they could fix whatever was wrong. I didn't want his final days to be spent alone in a hospital tank.

I will talk to Dr. F tomorrow about doing a necropsy...I do want to know what it was that took Jim so quickly, and Dr. F seems to be interested in learning all he can, too.

Jim had an inauspicious start as a feeder down in southwest Virginia, but he grew faster than the snake did and was surrendered to the Rockingham-Harrisonburg SPCA. He was known there as Ratty Lumpkin, and the day we picked him up we tried on many names (Harrison, Madison, James) as we drove up I-81. By the time we got home we'd settled on the unassuming and friendly "Jim," which fit him very well. He was a happy and hyper baby, never destructive or mean, just active. He mellowed into sweet, if not so bright, boy...George often took advantage of Jim's less-than-clever stashing.

I'm going to have a hard time looking at the nest ball and not seeing Jim in it...it was always his favorite spot.

Rest easy, my sweet boy. You'll always be my funny valentine rat.

Goodnight, Leather

Our tough old lady left us today, just eight days shy of her 3rd birthday.

She had been going strong until Thursday night, when I noticed that she didn't launch herself out of the cage door when I opened it to serve dinner. She ate Thursday, but without gusto. Yesterday she only ate baby food and yogurt. This morning she wouldn't even take Pedisure.

I kept her with me most of the day, and around 4:30 she had a seizure. Still, she displayed that same tenacity that carried her through the mysterious epilepsy she had as a baby, multiple respiratory infections, and the fractured leg just over a month ago...she raged against they dying of the light for two and a half more hours before passing away. Even after I could tell she was gone...it was almost as if I felt her leave her body...Victor heard a few more moments of faint heartbeat through the stethoscope.

This is the end of a generation for us; Leather was the last of the second group of rats we adopted. Her passing leaves Oliver alone right now, and I have to figure out what to do...earlier attempts to introduce him to the other boy groups were very unsuccessful, so we may be sending him for a neuter so he can move in with the girls. I owe Oliver a lot; I firmly believe that having him to harrass was one of the things that kept Leather going so long.

I will miss Leather greatly, but I have to say: hers was a long and well-lived life.

Leather: 11 September 2002 - 3 September 2005

Leather this morning. We suspected she wouldn't last the day; she passed on at 7PM. Good night, sweet girl.

Arwen

The bad week got much worse today, when we had to say goodnight to Arwen.

Her tumor (on her left side, you can see it in these pictures) ulcerated yesterday. Dr. F helped her cross the bridge this evening.

Mr. Ratburn

I wasn't ready for another memorial so soon, and I really wasn't ready for it to be one of the young rats.

We lost Mr. Ratburn this morning.

I'm still in shock, I think; it was so unexpected.

Late last week Ratburn and Misto were both being a little grunty, so I took them in to the vet yesterday morning. They were both a bit congested, and the vet actually commended us on how quickly we catch the respiratory infections. We went home with Baytril and some triple antibiotic/steroid drops, which is the standard treatment we've been using for the URIs.

Yesterday Ratbun was fine. This morning I had to pull him out of his sleep sack for the meds, and at first we figured he was groggy from the rude awakening. But when we put him back in the cage he didn't seem right, so I brought him to the bed with me.

He didn't move around, and he was limp, almost like a rag doll. With the stethoscope I could hear his heart, but not air movement. Victor called the closest emergency vet, but they don't see rats. He called the emergency vet where we took Pinky; the one vet there that treats rats wasn't on til 6 pm. We looked up some other vets, but the next possibilities were over an hour away. Out of desperation, we called our regular vet and woke him up...8 am on Sunday morning. I felt bad about that, but I figure if he really didn't want calls, he wouldn't list his number. He said he'd meet us in the office around 10.

Briefly, Ratburn perked up...he moved around a little bit, opened his eyes, and his breathing, though shallow, was a bit stronger. He drank some soy milk. But in the next hour he faded again. I held him the whole time, and he had some gasps and some spasms just before he died, but never did he seem like he was in pain or distress...it really was just ebbing away.

Of course I can't understand why...he really didn't seem particularly sick, and the doctor agreed. One of the scary thoughts to me was something wrong with the medicine, but Misto seems absolutely fine (thankfully, and I will be watching him like a hawk.) I don't know if a hypersensitivity response to something in the meds would have brought on respiratory arrest. We are going to have an autopsy, because I'm afraid there's something contagious and I'm now worried about everyone.

I really loved Ratburn. Part of it was just his looks; I have a soft spot for double rexes because of Pinky. But Ratburn was a mommy's rat...during playtime he spent more time on me than the other three boys combined. He was a bully to Oliver, but I couldn't even hold that against him when he gave me little kisses. I will miss him more than I can say.

With his brother Arthur.

With me about three weeks ago.

Schwartz's baby picture

Deaths in the Family

Neither Calle nor Schwartz made it to their 30th monthday. They were brother and sister, born on 20 September 2002. Calle died Saturday past in his sleep, and Schwartz was PTS today, just a few hours ago.

Calle had been slowing down (no doubt because of hind leg paralysis) and getting even fatter (or so it seemed), but his appetite was still good and he seemed to be aware of his surroundings. I found him Saturday afternoon, in the little house in the cage, seemingly awake, but not moving. He looked as if he had laid down to rest and just slipped away. His eyes were open and he was still warm when I found him.

Schwartz had been losing weight for several weeks along with use of her rear legs. We noticed blood in her private area; unlike Olie, this was coming from either her urethra or her vagina, and it was pretty irregular. Also, she wasn't eating solid food. We would give her yogurt, egg, cereal soaked in soymilk, and other soft foods regularly. Abita also noticed when she was out of the cage she would get very agitated.

This morning, I noticed her private parts were bloody again, and there was also blood spotting in the bedding in the cage she shared with Leather, Oliver, and (until recently), Calle. Abita and I talked about it, and we made the decision to take her to Dr. G for her final nap.

Leather and squishy boy Calle at Leather's 30th monthday party.

Schwartz enjoying a grape during Leather's 30th monthday party.

How Schwartz (way in the back) spent most of her last day--cuddled with Leather and Oliver.

Our last picture of Schwartzy.

UPDATE: I found these two old pictures of Calle:

Our first picture of Calle. We hadn't even adopted him by this time...and how did this cute little baby turn into a 1300+ gram squish?

Oh. He *ate* his way to 1300 grams!

Metro 11 September 2002 - 8 December 2004

Our oldest boy, Metro, was PTS last night. He had developed a lump that grew quite large; a few months ago he lost use of his hind legs. Recently he seemed to be having a bit of difficulty breathing, and yesterday the decision was made to help him to his final rest.

To be honest, he was with us longer than I thought--in mid-November I honestly didn't expect him to be with us this month. Until earlier this week, he was still imposing his alpha-status on the other rats with frequent groomings. I'd still find him curled up on Calle, our other older male, every morning and evening when I returned home from work. His littermate and sister, Leather, is now our oldest surviving rat

Metro as a baby--his first name was "Pinstripe" because of the narrowness of the white blaze in his cap.

The first Christmas shoot, December 2002. His blaze would narrow and widen, for no apparent reason, throughout his life.

Metro talks to Harley the Guinea Pig...probably about food...

Celebrating his first birthday in 2003, with his brother Kono.

Apparently, Metro had a foot fetish. Picture was taken in October of 2004.

Our last picture of Metro, a few hours before we took him to the vet for his last nap. He was still eating a bit at the end, but not as much has he used to.

It's never an easy decision, but I feel it was the right one. Good night, little Metro.

Olie 20 September 2002 - 2 November 2004

Abita came home early today, and found Olie had died in his sleep. He was curled up with Leather, in the little house in the cage.

I mentioned a few months ago we though he had hemmorhoids. When I noticed a smell of infection and some pus coming from his anus about two weeks ago, a trip to Dr G returned a diagnosis of cancer (either colon or rectal). I decided not to do any surgery because of his advanced age; Dr G also recommended against it. He had been a seemingly happy and active rat all through his illness, and to be honest I thought one of the other rats would pass on before he.

Leather to the left, and Olie to the right. Picture taken on the 24th of October.

Again, Leather to the left and Olie to the right. Schwartz is the pillow (picture taken two days ago).

At this time last year we had seven rats that had all been born within a month of each other. Right now, four of those rats are still with us. One of them has a very large tumor, two of the others are obese, and only Leather has no obvious health problems. We knew we would probably lose those seven in rapid succesion...but realizing that doesn't make it any easier.

Pinky's first picture

I had to let my baby girl go tonight.

Breathe easy now, Pinky. You were a wonderful friend, and I love you very much.

Rat

I'd like to add my tribute to Rat, or Rose...I admit I didn't quite take to Victor's rename. I thought Rat was the perfect name for this perfect little PEW.

Even though technically she was Victor's rat, that's only a distinction we make for the purpose of vet bills. Because my commute is shorter, I'm home more than Victor, and this week I was home even more because I have been ill. That gave me more time to spend with Rat, and I treasured getting to know her.

Since Rat had been free range with Duff, I felt bad for her being in a cage, even a nice one full of toys, so if she was awake when I looked in on her, I brought her out with me. She was very friendly...up on my shoulder, to my head, down inside my shirt...and very active. In the bedroom she found a quick route from the bed across my dresser into the closet...she didn't stop moving long enough to chew up any clothes, but I was planning to build her some jungle gyms just in case.

Duff had taught her tricks...walking along on her hind legs, and jumping to get yogies.

She was delightful, and I can't believe she is gone. When Victor broke the news to me I sobbed like I have not sobbed before after losing a pet. I can't believe her life was so short, and I can't help but feel guilty...I wonder if the stress of surgery was too much for her so soon after moving. I feel so, so terrible for Duff...we obviously intended to give Rat the best and most loving home, and never expected such a quick and tragic end to our time with her.

Rat, my sweet, beautiful girl...no more stupid cage for you. Run and climb and explore to your heart's content, and know that we loved you very much.

Rose May 2003--July 30 2004

We hardly got to know Rose.

She went to Dr. S for a wellness check last night. Dr. S is new at the office where Dr. K used to work, but she handled Teddy the Guinea Pig well, and I wanted to see how she handled rats.

One thing I noticed when I first adopted Rose was some firm tissue under her arm--prime mammary tumor area. Unspayed female rats are very prone to mammary tumors. I decided if we were going to take it out, then 'twere well it were done quickly.

I left little Rosey there overnight. I regret that now.

I had no word from them and called at about 3 PM. I was told she was just finishing up and that she'd call me soon. At about 3:30, she called me with bad news.

Rose had stopped breathing; they were trying CPR. She called me back ten minutes later, and little Rose the shirt diver had stopped fighting.

Good night, sweet Rose, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

Kono

Rest in peace, sweet boy.

Witter

Bob tribute

It's taken me a long time to do this...every time I looked at Bob's pictures I was welling up with tears all over again. I'm not sure what was so special about him, but there was something.

So I finally finished: Bob's tribute page.

RIP Bob

Bob left us today.

Anakin

Anakin, the rat with pneumonia, didn't make it. I've been practically glued to my computer since Wednesday night looking for updates, hoping so much that the little guy'd pull through.

I feel almost as crushed as I would if he were mine, and my heart goes out to his family.

Precious and fragile

One of our friends lost a rat yesterday. She was nearly two and going in for tumor surgery, and she didn't recover from the anesthesia.

Our friend is devastated, of course. I can't even think of how to comfort her.

Rats usually recover well, but there's always the chance...

The alternative, letting the lumps grow, is a chance, too. A year ago I had to put Krycek to sleep. She had multiple tumors, and though I thought I was doing the right thing by not subjecting her to surgery, I found her one day bleeding from where the skin over the tumor had broken open. I thought my baby was going to bleed to death before I got her to the vet, and once at the vet I knew there was nothing to do but end it.

I have never felt so guilty.

My point is, you can never know for sure how it will end, so the right thing to do is the best you can do. Treat them with the love and respect they deserve, and know that they are fragile creatures with lifespans far shorter than ours. A day for them is so much greater a percentage of their whole life...it reminds me how precious a day is.

The "thing" on Bob's skin is a lump, a lump getting bigger every day. Bob's had quite a long life for a rat...39 months or so, the first 30 in a small shoebox of a cage in a lab. All I can do now is let him know, every day we have left, how precious he is.

Curly

It's taken me a long time to do this, but I've finally sorted through Curly's pictures and put togther a bit of a memorial.

I had a quite a lot of photos considering that we only had eight months together.

Last winter I lost our first two rats, Krycek and Rizzo. Both had multiple tumors and had to be put to sleep, which I found very painful and hard to do. At the time I assumed it'd be easier to take if a rat passed away naturally.

I'm not sure it was easier in this case. Coming home and finding Curly was a shock...and although it didn't matter to him, not saying goodbye has bothered me.

On the other hand, I'm grateful that he did not live out his final days in pain and suffering. And although there's no way to know for sure, he certainly looked peaceful when I found him, like he truly had slipped away in his sleep. I hope that was the case.

Rest in peace, Bill

This has been a sad week.

Bill, our first guest rat, passed away.

Hit Curly up for a yogie or two, Bill, and tell him we said hi.

Our condolences and hugs to Ratqueen and her family.

Curly, 4 November 2003

Curly passed away while I was at work today. I shall post more later...for now here are a few pictures.

Here's Curly in March, when he first came home. He was shy and nervous then, and took many a bite out of my fingers the first few weeks.

And just a few weeks ago with the Halloween decorations.

Rest in peace, my sweet boy.

Sad goodbyes

I've said many times since I came to know rats that the only drawback is their short lifespan.

Most people roll their eyes if you mention taking a rat to the vet for tumor surgery or shake their heads at the idea of daily Lasix for a rat's congestive heart failure. Fewer people understand how you could sit at your desk and cry over the passing of a rat.

Luckily I have met the people who do understand. Even though I haven't met many of them in person, they've been sympathetic when our rats have been sick and they've helped us celebrate recoveries and milestones like the birthdays. And we've come to know their rats, too, and to share the celebrations, the worries, and the last sad goodbyes.

That's why I can sit at my desk and cry for Maggie and Samba.