I started my rattie mom journey over two years ago on this very website, months before I planned to get my first rats. i remember asking so many questions, doing so much research, making sure I had every possibility and event covered in my understanding of rat care.
Now, about three years later, they're gone.
My lovely boys, my first ever ratties, Peregrin Poppy and Geralt.
But I'm still proud of myself. Both boys lived out their full lifespans happily and healthily.
Poppy was the hyper one. He got in everywhere, he would to the silliest things, he was all over the place at once. He was big and chubby and extremely friendly, and he won over even the most fearful people with his antics. He was a talented escape artist, to the point where I started calling him Houdini.
Poppy lost his battle with PT at the end of august. He had just turned 24 months old.
Watching him deteriorate was the worst thing I've ever had to watch. When he died, I was just glad his struggle was over.
Geralt was the calm one. He liked his alone time, he wasn't a fan of being handled, but he enjoyed exploring and pats from momma all the same. His favorite thing to do was dig in the litter box and tunnel under the fleece. It took me over a year to figure out that Geralt was at least partially blind, but that never stopped him from being a little ball of trouble.
After Poppy died, Geralt went through a few weeks of depression where he refused to leave his hut. I considered buying him some new friends but I knew that was irresponsible of me; being in university, I would have never had enough time to socialize baby rats properly.
Geralt was showing the signs of PT, just like his brother, when he died tragically. My mom left the cage door open, assuming that he was too sick to get out, but Geralt escaped and fell off the stairs. He was 27 months old.
There's a part of me that is glad that he died while exploring, instead of succumbing to cancer.
Ironically, the night before I'd given my mom the greenlight to put him down if the PT got worse, because I didn't want him to suffer the way Poppy did.
Now he can be with his brother in heaven.
Goodbye, my beautiful boys. I'll meet you on the other side.
here they are, a few days after I first brought them home:
and here's a photoshoot I did of them right before summer
Now, about three years later, they're gone.
My lovely boys, my first ever ratties, Peregrin Poppy and Geralt.
But I'm still proud of myself. Both boys lived out their full lifespans happily and healthily.
Poppy was the hyper one. He got in everywhere, he would to the silliest things, he was all over the place at once. He was big and chubby and extremely friendly, and he won over even the most fearful people with his antics. He was a talented escape artist, to the point where I started calling him Houdini.
Poppy lost his battle with PT at the end of august. He had just turned 24 months old.
Watching him deteriorate was the worst thing I've ever had to watch. When he died, I was just glad his struggle was over.
Geralt was the calm one. He liked his alone time, he wasn't a fan of being handled, but he enjoyed exploring and pats from momma all the same. His favorite thing to do was dig in the litter box and tunnel under the fleece. It took me over a year to figure out that Geralt was at least partially blind, but that never stopped him from being a little ball of trouble.
After Poppy died, Geralt went through a few weeks of depression where he refused to leave his hut. I considered buying him some new friends but I knew that was irresponsible of me; being in university, I would have never had enough time to socialize baby rats properly.
Geralt was showing the signs of PT, just like his brother, when he died tragically. My mom left the cage door open, assuming that he was too sick to get out, but Geralt escaped and fell off the stairs. He was 27 months old.
There's a part of me that is glad that he died while exploring, instead of succumbing to cancer.
Ironically, the night before I'd given my mom the greenlight to put him down if the PT got worse, because I didn't want him to suffer the way Poppy did.
Now he can be with his brother in heaven.
Goodbye, my beautiful boys. I'll meet you on the other side.
here they are, a few days after I first brought them home:
and here's a photoshoot I did of them right before summer
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