Saying Goodbye

Backblipped on 18th March 2012

Things were supposed to improve today. I was determined to keep going and to keep getting things sorted out, despite the fact that my lovely new car was trashed, the new washing machine wasn't working properly, and the house was rapidly descending into some sort of chaos.

So, just before 7.00 we left the house. I dropped the Wonderspouse in Oxford at work, then carried on out towards Basingstoke, from where I was collecting Norman and Stanley, two lovely little rat kits, and then picking up the giant cage I'd bought second hand.

I realised I didn't really know where I was going, so stopped in the car park outside Pets at Home to look at the map.

No map - it was in the car that was crashed that was now at the repair garage. My phone wasn't playing either - not enough connection. I started to feel edgy about the trip - especially as I was in a giant car that was feeling like very hard work to drive.

I popped in to Pets at Home to get cat food and just calm myself down a bit. And, of course, I HAD to go and look at the animals.

Oh dear.

There was just ONE rat there. All on its own. NOT GOOD - rats are not happy alone, they like to live with other rats. This little one, a girl, also had a damaged ear - with a piece missing - although she had the most beautiful dumbo ears. As I approached the spartan tank, she came over and looked at me with her beautiful dark eyes.

I tore myself away. I do not have girl rats, just boys. Girl rats mean danger of pregnancy, another whole cage set up, etc etc etc.

I set off in approximately the right direction for Basingstoke, following the signs. By Newbury, the phone woke up, and I arrived at the house where I was collecting Norman and Stanley. The lady there was lovely, and it was wonderful meeting all her ratties, as well as her beautiful cat, and some adorable guinea pigs and tortoises! After chatting for some time, Norman and Stanley moved into the carry box I'd prepared for them, and I set off to the next call.

The girl who was selling me the cage was at work, but her parents were there, and were lovely, making me a cup of tea, chatting happily about rats, admiring Norman and Stanley, and helping me load the cage into the car. A carry box was also included.

Then I left for home. The little dumbo female was preying on my mind. Who on earth would take a rat with a damaged ear? How long would she be there? How miserable must she be?

I had a spare carry box with me. But NO WOMEN! It was my rule. Absolutely NO WOMEN!!! My logical mind told me to stop thinking about her. Forget it. Get home. Cage to build, washing machine company to phone, prescription to order.

But my soft self won. I pulled into the car park and went into the shop. She was still there. Still alone. So I bought her. I asked them how old she was - they said 11 weeks. I didn't believe them - girls aren't that much smaller than boys.

At the checkout, they didn't even know what sort of animal she was. "Is this a rat?" "Is it a dumbo rat or a normal one?" "You know it's a pound more for a dumbo?"

I just wanted to get her out of there. I named her Sonata.

Then she needed a friend. So I drove to Banbury to see whether there was another girl in a similar predicament. There was a whole litter of them in the rehoming section, so I chose one, who I named Partita. Another looked at me, so she came too - Hemiola. The man in the shop couldn't catch them, and was just about to start pulling their tails, so I shoved the paperwork at him, and gently lifted them out of the tank. For some reason, he then made me put them in separate boxes, even though they'd been together. I was too tired to argue, put them in the car, and headed for home.

Once home, I said hello to the cats, including Pebbles, who was sleeping peacefully on the Wonderspouse's sofa, and looked up when I stroked her ears. I then went upstairs and installed all the various rats in various nursery cages.

Then I came downstairs. Pebbles had been sick on the floor, and was lying on the floor breathing hard. She was clearly very ill. I grabbed the nearest cat box and went to put her in it. She'd moved a few inches and incontinently pooed on the floor. I picked her up, put her into the box, grabbed the car keys and my bag, and went straight to the vets, shoving everyone else out of the way.

The vet saw us immediately. I kept trying to call the Wonderspouse to tell him to get to the vet as soon as he got off the bus. Couldn't reach him. Pebbles was on oxygen by now, very very ill, and fading fast. Her heart was collapsing, and fluid was collected round it. I was with her as she died.

I asked the vet to keep her body for the Wonderspouse to say goodbye to, set off in the ridiculously big car, and found the Wonderspouse walking home - he'd forgotten his keys. I did a U-turn and we headed back to the vets, where he said goodbye to Pebbles, and we took a bit of her fur. I'd already made arrangements for cremation.

Then we went home, in a state of shock, and cleared up the mess on the floor. The cage was still in the car. The bedroom was full of rats. The entire kitchen was covered in dirty laundry, which Smudge had started to use as a toilet.

The Wonderspouse didn't even know about the girls yet - so I had to fill him in about them. He was somewhat gobsmacked to discover there were three of them.

By suppertime, I could hardly believe what had happened in the last few days.

Perhaps you can see now why I haven't managed to upload the blips for a while!