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R.I.P. My little rat Henry
My rat Henry died this afternoon. It was fairly quick, possibly a heart attack, and I know it was merciful that it happened this way because had he lived until tomorrow, I'd have had to intervene. I don't let an animal suffer if there's not a way out and I wouldn't let it happen to a person either if it wasn't the law.
Henry was a little, elderly sandy-furred rodent who weighed just under 300 grams. He believed the universe was centred around Henry and that other rats could just wait.
I don't know much about his life before I got him; he was a rescue rat and also a street rat, literally tossed at my rat-rescuing friends' foster son one day by the street kid who had them. "Hey, do you want some rats?" Fortunately David knew where to take them.
They lived at the rescue house for several months until I happened to be caring for the whole pack and decided that Henry and his psycho cellmate Jeremiah needed some extra attention. [Jeremiah is why I need to stock bandages]. That was back in December when I first moved into this house, which strangely enough is owned by my rat-rescuing friends. So I've been housemates with Henry and Co for just over 4 months, enough to get very attached to Henry and for Henry to establish his total rule over the household.
Henry died very quietly, in his sleep by the look of things, in his favourite spot, OUT of the cage wrapped in a towel. I never got an explanation from Henry as to just why he was always so desperate to come out when all he was going to do was mummify himself in a towel and sleep.
Sue
Henry was a little, elderly sandy-furred rodent who weighed just under 300 grams. He believed the universe was centred around Henry and that other rats could just wait.
I don't know much about his life before I got him; he was a rescue rat and also a street rat, literally tossed at my rat-rescuing friends' foster son one day by the street kid who had them. "Hey, do you want some rats?" Fortunately David knew where to take them.
They lived at the rescue house for several months until I happened to be caring for the whole pack and decided that Henry and his psycho cellmate Jeremiah needed some extra attention. [Jeremiah is why I need to stock bandages]. That was back in December when I first moved into this house, which strangely enough is owned by my rat-rescuing friends. So I've been housemates with Henry and Co for just over 4 months, enough to get very attached to Henry and for Henry to establish his total rule over the household.
Henry died very quietly, in his sleep by the look of things, in his favourite spot, OUT of the cage wrapped in a towel. I never got an explanation from Henry as to just why he was always so desperate to come out when all he was going to do was mummify himself in a towel and sleep.
Sue
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