LA
Well-Known Member
I couldn't do this memorial right away, and then I went back to work and didn't get to it. But I needed it to be done. These always give me some closure.
Fern and her cagemate Melody came to me from Lyndsy at Henry's Haven. She had taken them in from a woman who didn't want them anymore I think because they bit or something. I was fostering some babies for Lyndsy and she wanted to add them to her own rats so I asked if I could take Mel and Fern in to help her out. She was glad. I took them in as fosters. To work with them, get them to trust humans again. Let them know that we aren't all bad. I had never intended to keep them⦠famous last words. Little did I know that when you get troubled rats, itâs really hard to pass them along once they trust you, they put themselves in your heart so deeply because you are the one they learn to love. I found I could not give them up, and I never regretted that decision one bit. They taught me how to deal with troubled rats. I added Erin to the mix and they became a very happy family.
Fern or Fernidoodle as we nicknamed her was a wonderful rat. She was energetic, amusing, always doing stuff to make me laugh. I remember one night the cage we had them in, somehow the door got bent improperly and when I came up that morning the door was open, Mel and Erin were present but no Fern. I had to leave for work and started to panic about not being able to find her. I called her and she poked her had out from under the recliner. I caught her easily and put her back in the cage. She was so proud of herself. I know she would have loved to be free range, and she proved herself to be good. We had left a box of crackers in the living room and she didnât chew through it, she opened the flaps and opened the plastic to get the crackers out. For weeks we were finding crackers and lab blocks around the living room. She didnât chew, she didnât make a mess, she was a good girl while out.
She started developing tumors, she had one that grew very large and a second that didnât grow but was very dense. I decided to forgo surgery, it was my gut feeling. She had lost her cagemates but gained more, Charlie became her nursemaid of sorts. He would groom her and her tumor.
Eventually even though she was bright eyed she was wasting away, I kept waiting for her to give me a sign but she wouldnât, she was stubborn. So I made the decision for her. I think she was approximately 2.5 years when I helped her cross. I donât feel bad about it, but man is it hard when they donât stop.
I miss you Fern. :sad3:
Fern and her cagemate Melody came to me from Lyndsy at Henry's Haven. She had taken them in from a woman who didn't want them anymore I think because they bit or something. I was fostering some babies for Lyndsy and she wanted to add them to her own rats so I asked if I could take Mel and Fern in to help her out. She was glad. I took them in as fosters. To work with them, get them to trust humans again. Let them know that we aren't all bad. I had never intended to keep them⦠famous last words. Little did I know that when you get troubled rats, itâs really hard to pass them along once they trust you, they put themselves in your heart so deeply because you are the one they learn to love. I found I could not give them up, and I never regretted that decision one bit. They taught me how to deal with troubled rats. I added Erin to the mix and they became a very happy family.
Fern or Fernidoodle as we nicknamed her was a wonderful rat. She was energetic, amusing, always doing stuff to make me laugh. I remember one night the cage we had them in, somehow the door got bent improperly and when I came up that morning the door was open, Mel and Erin were present but no Fern. I had to leave for work and started to panic about not being able to find her. I called her and she poked her had out from under the recliner. I caught her easily and put her back in the cage. She was so proud of herself. I know she would have loved to be free range, and she proved herself to be good. We had left a box of crackers in the living room and she didnât chew through it, she opened the flaps and opened the plastic to get the crackers out. For weeks we were finding crackers and lab blocks around the living room. She didnât chew, she didnât make a mess, she was a good girl while out.
She started developing tumors, she had one that grew very large and a second that didnât grow but was very dense. I decided to forgo surgery, it was my gut feeling. She had lost her cagemates but gained more, Charlie became her nursemaid of sorts. He would groom her and her tumor.
Eventually even though she was bright eyed she was wasting away, I kept waiting for her to give me a sign but she wouldnât, she was stubborn. So I made the decision for her. I think she was approximately 2.5 years when I helped her cross. I donât feel bad about it, but man is it hard when they donât stop.
I miss you Fern. :sad3:
