trillium
Well-Known Member
*Warning -- really long post, sorry - I'm just sad and wanted to post a last thank you tribute for all the rats that have made such an impact on us and to people who have been so important to me over the years*
Our last two are gone.
They left almost together. It's that love that's so strong that we all feel, that holds us here, and holds our rattie families together. Fozzie just couldn't keep on without his Bella.
Last week we lost our Bella to a tumour on her leg that took over her body with frightening speed. Bella was a rescue from Orangeville Oct. of '09, with a guesstimate age of a bit over one year. She was the most rattie of rats that I have owned, and also my only girlie rat -- She was a shy girl who came to me with a bit of a protective streak about her nests and beds, but every trusting step she took with me was doubly rewarding because she was so intelligent and didn't trust easily.
She loved to dominate and groom her rattie men/minions throughout her time here, but didn't need me as much as some of my other rats have (other than as a supplier of yummy treats and entertainment) until the very end. Then, she soaked up any helpful grooming or scritches she could get. Bella was always fastidious about her environment and her cleanliness, so I think it bothered her a lot when she couldn't keep clean anymore.
The funny thing was that I was worried about her and how she'd do without Fozzie because he loved his humans, but was less physically healthy. I thought he'd go first and leave her behind, and it would be hard to make her happy as a lone rat when she relied heavily on the other rats in her life for confidence and security. The tumour took her away so that didn't happen.
It was very hard to let her go because Bella was still Bella. She was still herself, but with this massive, ugly, seeping tumour eating away at her body until she couldn't even drag herself around with it anymore. To see this normally active and opinionated rat immobilized but still fighting to "be" with all her heart made the choice to help her cross heartbreaking. She didn't want to go, but her body couldn't carry on.
A classic Bella pose, wondering if it would be worth her while to come up to say "hi"...
We knew that her passing would be tough on the Fozzman, who lived for and soaked up any and all love with every bone in his furry little rattie body. Ever since I found tilty 2 year old Fozzie at the Humane Society last summer, he settled himself into life here with gusto. He was a funny little man, not the brighest rat I've ever owned. I often wondered if whatever caused that head tilt had addled his little brain a wee bit, but boy he loved attention. His strategy was two-paws-on-at-all-times -- he always wanted to be in physical contact, almost like a dog that has separation anxiety after being abandoned. He loved Bella, but he loved his people time just as much I think.
Whenever he sensed me anywhere in the vicinity he came zooming, looking for attention, and treats if possible. He had no sense of dignity, which was why my original name for him, Franklin Slide, was almost immediately shortened to a much more appropriate Fozzie Bear. He was my only adult male rat crazy enough to still climb the cage bars to demand attention/out any time he thought you might be close by, like a hopeful chubby acrobat. That goofy little lightning striped belly exposed for all the world to see.
This was all good until he started to get HED -- He continued to attempt to climb though; until the very end he still dragged himself up the bars with the front part of his body to beg for lovin'.
The Fozzie Bear was getting old. He'd been on meds a few times for his breathing. He was definitely slowing down and sleeping a lot more over the last few months. The vet had even suggested that he might have a PT because of the HED, but although he was head bumping sometimes, he never showed any other symptoms like clubbing his paws, push backs or anything, so I decided not to start his old body on any more meds than he needed.
Only two days after Bella's passing we came home to blood in the cage and a very listless Fozzie Bear. A trip to the vet left us with the possibility of kidney issues and/or a UTI. I'd noticed him looking a bit bloated and drinking more water recently, so I wasn't feeling too happy with the possibilities. We tried the Clamavox, and after two days on that the blood was clearing up, but then he got the side effects of diarrhea and started to refuse to eat. :sad3: So I stopped the Clamavox after the third day and tried to get him back on track with lots of liquids and some yummy treats. It seemed to work for a few days, but then he just became more and more bloated. He was drinking lots, but didn't seem to be passing it through well.
Finally, yesterday, he let us know he'd had enough. He didn't want soaked Oxbow, he didn't want soaked Cheerios or baby cereal, he didn't even want his favourite scrambled eggs -- this from a rat who, although he was picky about his meds, NEVER refused a yummy treat in the entire time we had him. He drank a whole bunch from a syringe, but again nothing seemed to be moving through, at all. His body was shutting down and he was leaving us.
Fozzie spent his last week in our hands or on our hearts, literally. He needed us so much with Bella gone he would basically panic when we put him in the cage alone and scrabble to get out. My hubby and I spent our evenings with him curled up on us for hours and hours of cuddle time. As hard as it was to cope with him getting so ill right after Bella, when I look at it now, it was almost like his last gift to us -- to let us know how very much he loved us. All the licks and grooming and the warmth of his little head, body, and paws trustingly and happily nestled into the curve of my palm meant so much. To at least know we could comfort him that way so he wasn't alone. We took him in last night when he started having some trouble breathing and he passed very, very peacefully without ever really waking up. It was just his time.
Fozzie was our last rat. For awhile at least. And we feel incredibly lucky to have had such a close bond with him that we could make his last week as comfortable as possible. He let us have these last memories of what love and trust really mean to take forward into what already feels like an incredibly empty time. I've had 9 rattie babies over the last 6-7 years, hubby's had three, and I can't really imagine my life without them. They've all left deep footprints on us and one day I will be in a space/time to take in more love -- That's something I can look forward to even through this sadness. These were our last goodbyes and they've left us looking into an empty cage for silly noses, furry feet and little warm souls that aren't there to greet us anymore.
Our last two are gone.
They left almost together. It's that love that's so strong that we all feel, that holds us here, and holds our rattie families together. Fozzie just couldn't keep on without his Bella.
Last week we lost our Bella to a tumour on her leg that took over her body with frightening speed. Bella was a rescue from Orangeville Oct. of '09, with a guesstimate age of a bit over one year. She was the most rattie of rats that I have owned, and also my only girlie rat -- She was a shy girl who came to me with a bit of a protective streak about her nests and beds, but every trusting step she took with me was doubly rewarding because she was so intelligent and didn't trust easily.
She loved to dominate and groom her rattie men/minions throughout her time here, but didn't need me as much as some of my other rats have (other than as a supplier of yummy treats and entertainment) until the very end. Then, she soaked up any helpful grooming or scritches she could get. Bella was always fastidious about her environment and her cleanliness, so I think it bothered her a lot when she couldn't keep clean anymore.
The funny thing was that I was worried about her and how she'd do without Fozzie because he loved his humans, but was less physically healthy. I thought he'd go first and leave her behind, and it would be hard to make her happy as a lone rat when she relied heavily on the other rats in her life for confidence and security. The tumour took her away so that didn't happen.
It was very hard to let her go because Bella was still Bella. She was still herself, but with this massive, ugly, seeping tumour eating away at her body until she couldn't even drag herself around with it anymore. To see this normally active and opinionated rat immobilized but still fighting to "be" with all her heart made the choice to help her cross heartbreaking. She didn't want to go, but her body couldn't carry on.
A classic Bella pose, wondering if it would be worth her while to come up to say "hi"...
We knew that her passing would be tough on the Fozzman, who lived for and soaked up any and all love with every bone in his furry little rattie body. Ever since I found tilty 2 year old Fozzie at the Humane Society last summer, he settled himself into life here with gusto. He was a funny little man, not the brighest rat I've ever owned. I often wondered if whatever caused that head tilt had addled his little brain a wee bit, but boy he loved attention. His strategy was two-paws-on-at-all-times -- he always wanted to be in physical contact, almost like a dog that has separation anxiety after being abandoned. He loved Bella, but he loved his people time just as much I think.
Whenever he sensed me anywhere in the vicinity he came zooming, looking for attention, and treats if possible. He had no sense of dignity, which was why my original name for him, Franklin Slide, was almost immediately shortened to a much more appropriate Fozzie Bear. He was my only adult male rat crazy enough to still climb the cage bars to demand attention/out any time he thought you might be close by, like a hopeful chubby acrobat. That goofy little lightning striped belly exposed for all the world to see.
This was all good until he started to get HED -- He continued to attempt to climb though; until the very end he still dragged himself up the bars with the front part of his body to beg for lovin'.
The Fozzie Bear was getting old. He'd been on meds a few times for his breathing. He was definitely slowing down and sleeping a lot more over the last few months. The vet had even suggested that he might have a PT because of the HED, but although he was head bumping sometimes, he never showed any other symptoms like clubbing his paws, push backs or anything, so I decided not to start his old body on any more meds than he needed.
Only two days after Bella's passing we came home to blood in the cage and a very listless Fozzie Bear. A trip to the vet left us with the possibility of kidney issues and/or a UTI. I'd noticed him looking a bit bloated and drinking more water recently, so I wasn't feeling too happy with the possibilities. We tried the Clamavox, and after two days on that the blood was clearing up, but then he got the side effects of diarrhea and started to refuse to eat. :sad3: So I stopped the Clamavox after the third day and tried to get him back on track with lots of liquids and some yummy treats. It seemed to work for a few days, but then he just became more and more bloated. He was drinking lots, but didn't seem to be passing it through well.
Finally, yesterday, he let us know he'd had enough. He didn't want soaked Oxbow, he didn't want soaked Cheerios or baby cereal, he didn't even want his favourite scrambled eggs -- this from a rat who, although he was picky about his meds, NEVER refused a yummy treat in the entire time we had him. He drank a whole bunch from a syringe, but again nothing seemed to be moving through, at all. His body was shutting down and he was leaving us.
Fozzie spent his last week in our hands or on our hearts, literally. He needed us so much with Bella gone he would basically panic when we put him in the cage alone and scrabble to get out. My hubby and I spent our evenings with him curled up on us for hours and hours of cuddle time. As hard as it was to cope with him getting so ill right after Bella, when I look at it now, it was almost like his last gift to us -- to let us know how very much he loved us. All the licks and grooming and the warmth of his little head, body, and paws trustingly and happily nestled into the curve of my palm meant so much. To at least know we could comfort him that way so he wasn't alone. We took him in last night when he started having some trouble breathing and he passed very, very peacefully without ever really waking up. It was just his time.
Fozzie was our last rat. For awhile at least. And we feel incredibly lucky to have had such a close bond with him that we could make his last week as comfortable as possible. He let us have these last memories of what love and trust really mean to take forward into what already feels like an incredibly empty time. I've had 9 rattie babies over the last 6-7 years, hubby's had three, and I can't really imagine my life without them. They've all left deep footprints on us and one day I will be in a space/time to take in more love -- That's something I can look forward to even through this sadness. These were our last goodbyes and they've left us looking into an empty cage for silly noses, furry feet and little warm souls that aren't there to greet us anymore.
