Like a Criminal Date Friday, April 19, 2024 - 02:58 AM PST Topic Experiences Tresspass, littering, and loitering in the name of love. Anyone who's followed or contributed to my pleas for help with a very sick rat, lucy, knows that she has died as of yesterday 7pm. Lucy was one of my loving ratties...tho she was always very skittish, loathe to leave her home to come out and play, once she was put at ease she succumbed to typical loving affectionate playful ratty antics. She was born after the big northwest earthquake in february of '01, jokingly referred to as the big one that scared all five of poppy's babies right out of her. Babies I didn't know she was going to have. Five unexpected pink squealy wonders that brought so much joy to my life with their suprise, and being able to watching them grow. Lucy was one of two babies I kept (two girls), the other three boys being given to a friend of mine who would give them a good home. I watched her little pink body turn grey and fuzzy, and she would blindly nuzzle my fingers when she strayed and I'd have to return her to the nest, and Michael and I were the first human's she ever seen when her little black eyes first peeped open. The only way we could tell her apart from her mother's sister stella (also very missed) was a chip in her ear from a burst bloodblister...a comical little notch like an alleycat in a tom and jerry cartoon. She developed pnemonia a little over a month ago...the worst seeming past she was returned from the "sick tank" to her family and her crackerbox, where she would spend a lot of time wrestling around and snoozing away the daylight hours. Hence, with her sleep schedule and reluctance to come out to play, that I didn't notice the devestating weight loss she underwent until she was a mere 250g...to compare, think of her mother and sister at 750 and 800 grams. She was promptly taken to a vet that specialised in small animals and rats, given antibiotics, and I was given the grim news that pnemonia infections can spread to the kidneys, and that likely her kidneys were trashed...hence not a goddamned thing I could do. But I was hopeful. Optimistic. I really really thought, had convinced myself, that she was looking better. That she would get well...that her medicine and good gentle food and water would heal her and bring her back. That by will alone I could make her happy, and well. That is, until yesterday.. when I plucked her cold body from the cage, her eyes sleepy, her breath only in small difficult gasps. For the first time in her short life she layed in my arms with no protest, no struggle. She allowed me to pet her, and give her the affection she always was too nervous to accept. Knowing her end was near I held her inside the cage for her mother and sister to see for a last time, then returned her to a fold in my sweatshirt so her last moments would be comfortable and warm and safe. It was then that she just...well, went. She was wrapped in a towel and left in the sick tank until tonight...when in less than appropriate funeral garb, dressed more for burglary than burial, we drove to the park near our house, and burried her in the sand by the river, her final home an oatmeal container with sawdust from her cage, her favorite toritlla chips, bananna chips, a flower, patchoulli oil and a picture of Michael and I, so she wouldn't get lonely or forget who loved her most. This he did for me while I was in the bathtub, so I wouldn't have to see her as she was, just remember her for what she meant. Besides, he knew the sight of her would send me into another fit and ruin another of his shirts. Husbands know. Down by the river, in the dark, digging around boulders in the sand, dodging cops that patroled the area, in silence we put her to rest. We loved her, and tho some people see pets as pets, only those who have truly ever loved an animal as a family member will ever understand. Oddly enough I feel a lot better now that the deed is done. With sand in our pants and dirt under our nails we returned home...even managed to joke about the group of teenagers that almost stumbled upon us, and who left in a sort of quiet hurry short after. I can only imagine what they thought...two figures in the dark, sound of shovels on rocks, bushes rustling because my dog was misbehaving, whispers of "stop it or I'll dump you in the river too"... Thanks for letting me get this off my chest. For all the advice and words of help offered, I thank you guys and all you tried to do for us...unfortuantely there just wasn't enough in the world to save her. But she knows, and she is happy. If energy never dies, I hope in that massive electrical void she's found stella, and in turn someday they'll find Michael and I, and remember us, and the bananna chips, and the love. This article comes from Shmeng http://www.shmeng.com/ The URL for this story is: http://www.shmeng.com/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=393