A New Handsome Fellow

Not much has happened in rat-land since I left Las Cruces.  Truth be told, I'd been feeling really depressed about rats in general, and especially rescue, for a while.  Losing Einstein really knocked me off course, and since they I've felt pretty lost.  I was down to three -- Amadeus, Ginji and Ban -- and had completely planned to leave it at that for the rest of their natural lives. 

Until I went into Petsmart today and met this fellow:

I haven't picked out a name for him yet.  He is a BIG handsome boy, very sweet and cuddly.  Apparently he's been there for eight months and has never attracted any attention from shoppers.  He had a problem with being bullied by his cage mates for a while, so we'll see if we have any problems with intros.  He's a tremendous, lovey cuddlebug though, and he gives great kisses. 

Einstein - 2010 to March 21st, 2012

My sweet old man-rat died suddenly and unexpectedly on the 21st.  I haven't dealt wit the body yet; I want to do something special for him, but I'm in a new city and I'm not sure where in my apartment complex I could get away with burying him. 

I knew his time was coming.  He was creeping up on his 3rd birthday and he was very thin and finally beginning to slow down and show his age.  A part of me thought/hoped that he was immortal, even though I knew it wasn't true.  He was just so spry and full of life right until the end. 

He was curled up in his hammock, food in his paws, when I found him.  I knew something was wrong because he didn't run up to say hello, and Einstein would always run out to see me.  I pulled him out and he was pretty much gone.  I stroked his fur and talked to him until he'd passed.  I think it was a stroke, or maybe just old age.  It's hard to tell. 

Einstein was special.  He was a little monkey, always getting into trouble.  He was the smartest, most mischievous pain-in-the-ass rat and I loved him dearly for it. 

I'm sorry, Einer-steiner.  I miss you so much. 

Basil - 9/09 - 12/11

I've been holding off on writing this memorial for Basil.  I have been expecting his death for several months, so it was hardly a surprise.  It still doesn't feel real, though, especially not on the heels of Socrates.  After several months of brave struggle against his failing heart, Basil finally passed quietly on Christmas day. 

Basil came to me as an 8-week-old baby, one of 16 little ones born to an escapee at Petco who had gone feral.  The babies were hand-raised and fostered on a surrogate mom.  He and his tilty brother Wesley were my first "official" rescues. 

Basil was a rat's rat.  He put up with people.  Sometimes, if you caught him in the right mood, he would let you roll him onto his back and tickle his belly and kiss the minky spot on his tummy.  But most of the time he just weathered human attention with quiet dignity so he could get back to tending to his rats. 

He was a natural-born alpha.  He gently tended to Token in his final hours.  He taught the hoarding boys how to behave like real rats.  He kept Einstein in his place. He was the glue that held the colony together and while he was tough, he was also fair.  He saw the death of so many of his friends:  Ripper, Sweeney, Token, Splinter, Locke, Stock, Beryl, Wesley, Socrates.  In the end, he was very tired, and I think very ready to see his friends again. 

So long, big guy.  I miss you a lot, and the colony isn't the same without you.

Merry Christmas from the Ratmates

I had a photo-shoot today with the rats.  I was sad that Socrates wasn't there...but happy that both Basil and Einstein have survived well into their old age to enjoy.  

The new guys are settling in nicely :)

I'm going to have to get better at making backdrops.  On the bright side, tinsel is bright and shiny. 

Basil is so handsome and tired.  He's very sad after Socrates passed away, but I think he'll be alright.  He's lost a lot of friends over the years.

Ban is adorable.  

Merry Christmas and all, and to all a good night.

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.

Reading with Rats

I've been rather lax in updating this blog lately.  Rest assured, the rats themselves are not nearly as neglected as this blog :)

So why the lack of updates?

Well, because I got an early Christmas present on Sunday -- a brand new Kindle.  Not the newest Kindle Fire, mind.  Just the original 6" Kindle, the $79 model.  It's exactly what I wanted, and it hasn't been more than a few feet away from me since I received it.  I'm pretty much addicted to it.

Of course, there's nothing better than curling up in bed with a good book, unless it's curling up in bed with a good book and a rat.  Some rats are better for snuggling than others.  Some rats would rather chew on your Kindle, climb all over your hands, or sneak off the bed.  Others will delight in ignoring you while they go about their daily routine.  Others will curl up next to you, or on your lap, and enjoy absent scritches while you read.  Of course, these rats are the best reading buddies.

You can see how "wasted" he looks here.  He's not super skinny, but his sides are sunken in by atrophied muscle.  Most of his weight is in his fluid-filled chest, thanks to the CHF

Lately, I've been enjoying Basil's company.  He's such an old slug of a rat that he'll happily burrow down into the covers and snooze, and he matches the blankets.

He still doesn't really like people as much as he likes rats.  He never will.  But he tolerates my presence with all the dignity of an old rat royalty, and I can't ask for anything more.

Basil Still Going Strong

Happy to report that after more than a month of heart meds, Basil is still doing great.  In fact, despite having everything in the cage lowered so he can access food, water, nest boxes, and comfy hammocks without climbing, Basil insists on climbing to the very top of the cage.

He's been having some problems grooming himself, but he refuses to let me help.  He's too proud.  He's making some progress in cleaning himself up, but there's a patch of fur right above his tail that needs a good wash.  I'll have to bribe him with some treats to convince his wounded dignity that being groomed by a human isn't so bad after all.