Saddest Rat News Ever

I am very saddened to report the loss of Peanut and Mugsy Rattray-Hendricks. I had the pleasure of rat-sitting them for a month this summer. They were wonderful beings, playful and funny, and possessing their own personalities. I cried a little (and am doing so again right now) when V called to say they had to be put down. Those of you who like cats or dogs or other pets.... you know what it is like to lose a beloved animal friend perhaps.... You may not know that rats possess that same intelligent, distinct personality that other pets... and humans possess. Anyway, RIP, Peanut and Mugsy. You may have been small in stature, but not in personality. You will be missed. I am now going to post V's obituary:


Dear friends and relatives of Peanut and Mugsy,
They were good rats, as good as rats can be, and sweet, especially Peanut. Mugsy made up with cuteness for his mildly belligerent behavior.
I took them to the vet today because of Mugsy's continued weight loss and panting and Peanut's huge tumor on his left hip. The tumor had started a few weeks ago and seemed to double in size overnight last week, to the point that it was larger than his head. The vet said that she thought it was a bone tumor and he was in pain, but was too brave to show it--or maybe I said that last part. I had noticed that he slid down the ramp last night instead of scurrying, but he never complained. The vet suspected that Mugsy had a tumor in his lungs because he sounded "rattly" when he breathed, more rattly than a rat is supposed to, I guess.
It was a difficult decision to make because they were both still eating, and it's hard to tell if a rat is miserable. I had been giving them wet cat food at night and they both loved it. However, they had stopped running in the wheel, even though Mugsy had always been an exercise fanatic; and Peanut, though he never refused anything I gave him, because he was too polite, would often grab his rat croissant and hide it for later, but never go back to it. However, they both ate their chewy treats last night and most of their banana pieces this morning along with some oats.
The vet gave them anesthesia, putting little masks over their faces before the shot, so they would go to sleep and feel no pain. She had tears in her eyes and gave me a hug when she brought them in, peacefully resting on their sides next to each other, their soft pointy faces and pink ears sticking out from the fleece blanket. I said my last goodbye, touching their delicate foreheads. They were still warm, their eyes open, and looked more peaceful and happy than I had ever seen them. Despite the ultimate cage, the variety of treats, even the outings on the bathroom floor when they would scamper up our chests to sit on our shoulders and heads, I don't think they were ever content with their lives. Every time they heard my voice, they would run to look through the bars, hoping to be stroked or played with, and I disappointed them most of the time. However, I think they probably had a fun month this June when they vacationed with their best friend Tracy, and she gave them much love and freedom to run. Their memory will remain through poetry on Tracy's rat blog.
They were good rats. They're in rat heaven, I'm sure. No more small caged animals for me.
V.