Socrates - September 2010 to December 2011

A baby Socrates tells his brother Amadeus a secret

Sometimes, a rat's death is a long process.  They get sick, their health declines, you nurse them, and finally it's time to say goodbye.  Other times, though, it comes from nowhere.  One minute you have a happy, healthy rat.  The next, you find him cold and lifeless at the bottom of his cage.

That doesn't happen very often, but when it does it's always devastating.

Two days ago, I noticed something "off" about Socrates, but I couldn't put my finger on it.  He didn't come out to say hello when I gave everyone their dinner.  He was sleeping soundly in his favorite hammock, so I woke him up.  He acted groggy, but seemed healthy.  No bumps, no weight loss, no swelling, no respiratory sounds.  He seemed totally fine, just sleepy.

So, figuring I'd woken him from a very sound nap, I put him back in the cage.  The next morning, I checked in and he was snoozing soundly so I left him to sleep.  A few hours later, I found him dead in the bottom of the cage.

I have no idea what happened.  He's in the freezer now, and I'm debating if I want to have a necropsy done, or just let it go.

Socrates came to me with his brothers Amadeus and Normoth in September of last year.  He was supposedly 8 weeks old, but they seemed closer to 5 weeks.  His two sisters, Beatrix and Eiko, live with my rat-rescue friend Callie.

The "babies" have always been a little spastic, and Socrates was definitely a spazz.  His greatest passion in life was climbing and exploring.  I got very few photos of him because he was always on the move.  You'd set him down for a moment, and then BAM! he was on the windowsill, on top of the cage, in the closet.  Always everywhere but where he was supposed to be.

Socrates got along with everyone, but he was best friends with no one.  He was too independent for that.  He tolerated human affection, but he really wanted to be out exploring.  He snuggled in hammocks, but during out time he had eyes only for adventure.  He was his own rat, and he lived every second in complete control of himself.

His cage buddies, Amadeus and Basil, really miss him.  Hell, I really miss him, too.  I just wish I'd gotten to know him better.

Play hard, my little enigma.  I hope you've got all the buildings in the world to climb wherever you are now.