Ryan wasn't going to get a new rat unless we had a name for her, so I named her Fauna, due to the perfect light brown color on her head. Unfortunately, within a few days, her name was so obviously not Fauna. She would sway her head to and fro, like Stevie Wonder, so her new name became Stevie.
Unlike Malia, Stevie is very intelligent. She's not motivated by food, or a chance for freedom, so I know she was not held as a newborn baby. My suspicions are that she was meant to be a feeder rat (aka snake food).
Stevie wasn't keen on getting into her hammock the first few days, so I took it out, allowing her to have more room to run around and... well, be a rat. Turns out, she liked her wheel about 4 nights into living at our house. It had never been used, so it was squeaky. The next day, I sprayed the joints with Pam cooking spray and all was good.
I attempted putting Malia and Stevie together a few times, and it seemed like a natural progression that they'd live together. Last Saturday (today being Thursday), I thought the two of them were ready to live together. I put Malia's hammock in Stevie's cage and the two of them did their own things... and then they'd run around after each other... Malia would display her dominance and all would be well.
I observed them for 15 minutes, when I decided it was high-time I did the dishes. I would look over at them while I rinsed each dish. Everything seemed fine. Just as I was sudzing (sp?) up my last dish, I heard the loudest, most god-forsaken noise come out of a rat! I ran to the cage to find Stevie not moving while Malia had an arched back and was somewhat attacking.
I immediately separated the two of them. After punishing Malia, I went to attend to Stevie. She wasn't hurt, at least not enough to prevent her from moving, so I examined her by picking her up. Turns out Malia scratched one of Stevie's eyes. Ouch.
My analysis: Malia was just not meant to live with another rat. I tried, but perhaps I rushed things.
Sidenote: Stevie was a sneezy little girl the first week we had her, so Malia picked up the sneeze. The problem here is that Malia probably transmitted something else to Stevie (that Malia is immune to, but Stevie was not).
Monday rolls around, and Stevie seems depressed and legthargic. Ryan suggests that she is lonely, but I know that Malia is not the answer. I figure the answer would have been getting two rats at a time. This way I don't have to deal with the introduction process.
It's seeming that Stevie is still in the gray area about being pregnant. She eats a lot, but I never see her eat. But when Monday rolls around, her food bowl isn't as emptied as it normally is. I notice that her eye still seems irritated from Malia's scratch.
I ask Ryan when he can bring Stevie into the Vet's with me. He replies Friday. So I call and set up an appointment for Stevie to get looked at and just a general analysis of her health. (Perhaps her eye will be healed by Friday, but if not, the doctor can prescribe some drops).
Tuesday, same as Monday. I give her some more kitten food (as a preventative measure in case she's pregnant, she needs to get extra nutrients that are provided in kitten food). She likes the kitten food and will eat it out of my hand.
Wednesday, decline in movement. She just kinda mopes around the cage. She gets energy when I pick her up though, so I don't think she's doing too bad. She no longer has a sneeze, and her eye seems to be less pinky.
Thursday, no food eaten, no water drunk. I am seriously concerned for her health, so I go online to read about what might be wrong with her. I find out that she probably has a bacterial infection, and should be on antibiotics. I force water down her mouth with one of the medicine droppers I received from the Vet's (for Tierna). Then I offer her some food and she shows no interest... not even in the kitten food. :(
Ryan is in an all-day meeting, so I can't tell him about her declining health. I am crying most of the day, and I fret what to do. Will she be okay until the morning appointment? Am I just getting freaked out because I had to use the dropper to give her water (and it's giving me flashbacks of Tierna)? Am I just getting too hypocondriatic about all my pets?
I read online that she needs an injection... immediately. I wonder how accurate the information is. I wonder if I am subconsciously making her condition sound worse than it is because she's my rat. I call Ryan and tell him to check his ICQ (I sent him info on the stuff I was reading).
He calls me and I tell him that the Vet's is closed for the night, but should we call ahead at the emergency vets and bring her in there? (I don't know the location of the emergency vets, nor did I write down the number when I heard our vet's office's recording of it).
I figure I will hold Stevie and console her until Ryan arrives home. Ryan tells me that I should make a decision. (Later, he tells me that he thinks I've overreacted on her health, since he hadn't seen it in person at that point).
I make dinner, and Ryan and I eat in silence (after having an argument over whether or not we should bring her into the emergency vets or just not spend money on her altogether -- Ryan can be very cold-hearted sometimes). After dinner, I warm my hands up again, and I get out the little washcloth I've been using to hold her in (as a shield from my icy hands... she's already not eating, so I don't need to suck what little heat her body is producing from her).
Ryan decides to play some video games before bed. I sit and watch him, while I pet Stevie telling her that tonight is going to be the toughest night of her life, but if she just believes me... it will all get better tomorrow morning.
I keep getting teary eyed, knowing that she's just fur and bones. I see her struggling for air at times and it makes me hurt knowing she's hurting. I just try to talk softly to her. At times, I tell Ryan to pause the game just so he can see how bad her condition is.
Every once and awhile, she attempts to resituate herself out of the washcloth, but I insist she stays there to stay warm. The last time I put her back into the washcloth, her little hands reminded me of Tierna's limp arms the last few days of her life -- and I started crying all over again.
It's Tierna's 2 month anniversary of her death today. I cry because I miss her. I cry because she was so special and Stevie kinda reminds me of her, so I want to take the best care of her I can.
Suddenly, Stevie curls up her back and opens her mouth, her arms kinda flailing about as she gasps for air. I tell Ryan to pause the game, "Pause it! Pause it! Look at her!"
And then she stops. Ryan doesn't see her two major gasps. "What?" he asks. I nudge Stevie's arm and head with my finger. "Stevie? Stevie? You okay?"
Nothing.
I feel her back twitching a bit, but since the hum of the PS2 is going, I can't hear if she's breathing normally again or not.
I look down at her, and then tell Ryan that I feel her back twitching but don't see her breathing. And then it hits me -- she's died in my hand.
AHHHHH!!!!
I start freaking out. I can't be holding her. I can't touch her. I can't believe I was touching her. Her eyes are still open, so I just figured she was still with us.
I tell Ryan I'm freaking out, so he takes her from me and pulls the washcloth over her head.
I had been talking about, 'what if she doesn't make it through the night? Then you won't have to worry about spending money on her...'
... and now, she's dead.
I was going to borrow Tim's camera today to take pictures of her, but she wasn't doing so good today, so I didn't want to leave her alone to go to Tim's house to get the camera. Emily got a few pictures of her, but she said they will probably be blurry since Stevie was moving around a lot.
So now, I cry and cry and cry. I only had her in my life for 12 days, but I already loved her.
I tried to call the Vet's office to cancel her appointment, but they don't have an answering service. I have to call tomorrow before the appointment should have taken place and tell them that she will not need the appointment.
After I was certain she was dead, I got out some old (rat-used) socks to have Ryan roll her up in. I got out a box and then taped her inside it. I put the box in a ziploc and put the ziploc in the freezer for until tomorrow.
If I hadn't just gone through all this greiving with Tierna, I don't think I would have known how to dispose of her body. I will bury her along side Tierna in the back yard tomorrow, when there is daylight.
Somehow, I feel as though I've failed her because of my indecision. My new rule: if a pet is not eating or drinking, TAKE HIM/HER TO THE VET IMMEDIATELY! (Even if it's stupid Malia).
Carisa