# One Year Later, Still Mourning



## TheHermit (Nov 15, 2011)

I got my first rats when I was 15. We went to a decent (but not not optimal) pet store just to "look" and I ended up coming home with two boys, Edward and Liam. Edward was the snuggle-bunny and Liam was the adventurer that couldn't stop moving. A few months later I picked up a third from a gritty, local pet store that also sold them as feeders - he, James, was picked on at first, but learned how to fend for himself and I must admit he was the most intelligent of the three.
I'd only done so much research - enough to know not to use wood shavings as bedding, how to litter train them, tricks, safe toys, etc.
A year and a half later, I came home from school. I didn't go to my room at first, but when I did, I heard very very odd breathing noises. James was huddled between Edward and Liam by the door as if they were wanting to come out, but they were laying down and seemed solemn and not excited. When they saw me go to the door James literally shimmied closer and I knew something was very wrong. I took him out and I frantically tried to help him breathe, but the more time that passed the less he would move. My dad and I did so much research about what we could do, but all that we found basically told us that James was not long for the world, so to the vet we went and I came back home with a dead companion. I had stayed in the room that he was anesthetized in but opted to leave for the needle, though I regretted this because I could have just held him and closed my eyes.
But I feel OK about James. He was comforted by his friends until I came for him and when I did, he simply allowed me to try and help and when we went to the vet he was calm and licked my fingers as if to say "its ok mum".
It would be months later before Edward started losing weight. I had a boyfriend of four months coming over one night and was excited while getting ready for school. I looked over to see Edward panicking on the carpet. I didn't know what to do and sat by him and he crawled into my lap and calmed down. I knew, deep down, that something was very wrong... and went to school anyway. I came home and didn't properly check on him - I watched a movie with my boyfriend. And then when the room went silent, there was that sound again. I went to the cage and Liam was laying on top of Edward's torso. He moved when I opened the cage. Edward was already unconscious from lack of oxygen. The vet was closed. His body kept reacting to the lack of air and would flail and I didn't know what to do. I wrapped him in a t-shirt to try and keep his body from struggling so hard. I curled up on the bed and waited with him for over an hour. 
I felt awful. I felt like a neglectful parent, of the worst kind. I felt like I had so many chances to make it easier on him, to end it before his body had to really really fight. I'm having a hard time forgiving myself, and it's been a year ago today. A year ago today Edward passed on and I'm crying while typing.
Liam immediately stopped eating. He wouldn't drink. My little adventurer, that just wanted out and to run around, slept all day. He lost weight rapidly. He started sneezing that red stuff out with far more pigment than in the last few weeks (they had come home from the pet store with the lung infection, which I was ignorant of at first). His hair started getting fluffed up and he went blind in one eye. We took him to the vet who injected him with steroids and antibiotics and I had no idea if what he was doing was right and I had no idea how badly I could've been making it for Liam. All I know is, he was giving up and I didn't want him to. 
So I took him with me to one of my bi-weekly therapy sessions. My therapist was a Buddhist and naturalist and had had sessions with pets and their owners before - she believed in communication, not that she was a pet-whisperer or something, but that animals spoke with their mind anyway. So she 'spoke' to him, and he let her pet him, and affection was something Liam NEVER craved - he even bruxed. She relayed to me that he felt that since his cagemates were gone, that he had to go too. It made perfect sense to me, considering his behavior. 
A few days later, he would drink voluntarily. We still had to 'force-feed' him (yogurt in a syringe that we just put close to his mouth and he'd lick it off) but he would nibble on tasty "human food". But he had waited too long, and he kept losing weight and was less and less active. Before we even went to the therapist, he took to the habit of jumping onto my bed and sleeping against my pillows when I let him out. The second day he did this, he was frantic when I put him back in his cage. Eventually, when he stopped defecating, I simply let him sleep on my bed while I was at school. When at home, I would lay with him and watch movies and do homework. If I was there, he would tuck himself in my lap or up against me. When away, my dad would check on him and he would be simply against my pillow. We left food out for him and everything.
Then he started defecating, but it was mushy and tinted red. We'd stopped going to the vet for injections a week before. He would eat a little dry rat food on his own and some yogurt on his own so the mushy-ness could have been excused by the yogurt, but the redness in it scared me. He seemed much more active, and sometimes, when I was in the room, he would jump down to the floor and run a lap, and then take a rest. But he still lost weight and went blind in the other eye and one morning I woke up and he was COVERED in reddish feces. He was standing up against the cage door, holding on to the bars. I washed him off and cleaned his cage and was convinced his body was shutting down no matter what I did and that I should put him down instead of making him struggle.
But we'd already spent an absurd amount of money keeping him alive. My dad refused to offer me the option of taking him to the vet. He said he'd found a way, online, to do it humanely and quickly - that baking soda & vinegar thing.
I went upstairs and approached the bed. Liam turned and looked at me and I swear, I swear on his own soul, he smiled. He crawled up to me and before I even touched him he was bruxing. I basically told him that I was giving up. I know, talking to a rat seems so stupid. My dad got everything set up in my room the next day and I put Liam in a dark cage and tried to hold him there while he frantically tried to crawl out and he fought to get out when I closed the cage door and I couldn't hold or touch him or disturb anything while he was suffocated and I feel so fucking horrible. He was so scared and actually started fighting to live and be with me and I gave up on him in the worst way. Because I had tried to hold him at first it took so, so long for him to go and it was so wrong.
I can't forgive myself for it. It hurts so much to know that I put my baby boy through so much stress and he was just... so special and compassionate and I miss him so much. I can't believe I let all that happen to him. I feel like the worst, most irresponsible Rat Mama to have let my father talk me into doing that to him. I hate myself. I literally hate myself for not stopping it when I saw how scared Liam was. I hate myself for even thinking that it was OK. I loved Liam ( I loved all of them) so, so much and I can't let it go. I just can't. Words don't describe how I feel about how he left this world. It was one of two things for him, it seemed - fight it off or live it out with me, and I decided for him that he wouldn't do either after basically begging him and forcing him to keep going. And yes, he was that much of a real person to me, not just a pet, but a family member. 
It hurts infinitely.

I know this post is long but I've never gotten this out to anyone other than my boyfriend, and he just doesn't quite get it. I don't know how to forgive myself for that. Most people would be like "whatevs, its just a rat" but those there were NOT just rats. I really loved them.

I just seriously can not forgive myself.


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## mshill90 (Oct 29, 2011)

TheHermit, 

Don't be so hard on yourself. I know, easier said than done. But I've been in your situation, and you did what needed to be done. Sometimes doing what's right isn't easy, but it still needs to be done. 

3 years ago, I rescued a 4 month old pitbull (Felix) with mange from being euthanized. We did all the vet treatments for his mange, and it went away for a little bit. But, he had other internal issues that we were not aware of. He would throw up randomly and it would take days for him to digest his food. We tried every food idea possible, and nothing worked.. we placed him on a raw chicken diet, and he immediately got better, except.. he started losing his fur, and breaking out into oozing sores. This was a back and forth process for 3 yrs. He also had to have eye surgery at one point. It was constantly a back and forth thing with him.. better, then worse, then better, then worse.. he would no sooner start growing hair, then he would lose it all. He always had an extremely high temperature, and fleas became so uncontrollable on him. He was allergic to almost everything. After dealing with all the issues for so long, I decided that I was done trying ideas.. to let us see what would happen without us adding something. He never got better.. through the entire 3 years, I always wondered if maybe he really should have been euthanized.. but he was just a puppy who deserved a chance at life. After 3 years of being broke, and consumed by this dog, he gave up... he slept for 20 hours a day.. he went from 40 lbs down to 15 lbs.... I knew that I could no longer make him suffer because I didn't want to make a hard decision.. I knew he needed to be euthanized or he would just continue to suffer.. and I didn't want that for him. I never wanted any of this for him. So in July, he was euthanized. 

Felix was the 4th of my pitbulls. He was family, and he was loved.. I made a promise that I will never own 4 dogs again. But I also made a promise that I would help any animal that I could in need. Felix was a caring, wonderful, and gentle dog, and nothing will replace him in my heart. 

Things may not seem like they will heal, but they will.. it just takes time. And you have to realize that you ended his suffering and that's what a compassionate, and caring person does. So please, find it in your heart to forgive yourself, I'm sure Liam does. <3


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## ratjes (Mar 26, 2011)

You did the best you could and knew how to do it. You loved them and that is what counts in the end. I think you did more than many people would. Don't blame yourself. Rats only live for a very short time but the quality they give us as pets makes up for it totally.
Think of it this way: do you think they sit there at the rainbow bridge blaming you for everything? I am sure they don't. I think they want you to be happy and enjoy a new bunch of rats.
I vowed after losing my first group of rats to never have rats again, to never have to feel this sadness again. After a year I rescued a rat from being fed to wildlife and got her a friend and I have had them now for over a year. I realize that they are middle aged so I am enjoying them a lot. I feel like I am honoring the first group by not giving up on rats. And when they pass I will have others as long as I can.
Hope this helps. Look in the mirror and be proud of yourself. You have given them a good life. The end was a struggle, I know, but this is how we learn. We all have to go through that to grow up. Good luck to you.


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## irradella (Nov 5, 2011)

This broke my heart to read. It must have been really hard holding all that in for so long. Guilt is one of the worst things in the world and it's hardest to forgive yourself. Just try to realize that you didn't do any of this out of malice, but you truly had your rats' best interest at heart. There was no way for you to know that your dad's method of putting him to sleep would turn out the way it did. You were trying to end your loved one's suffering. I think one of the things that makes you feel such guilt is that it seemed like he was ready to go and yet he struggled when the time came. From what you described he was in horrible pain and you really made the best decision to put him down. Especially after trying so hard to save his life. His struggle was natural and not a reflection of him not being ready or feeling betrayed. It sounds to me like you really loved the little guy and he adored you. 

I think it's great that you're starting to talk to people about this. With time, sharing this will help you cope with your guilt. I had a similar struggle with guilt. When I was 8 years old I had a pet mouse. I was holding him one day and he got frightened and struggled so hard to escape that he accidentally broke his neck. I had his blood literally on my hands and my mother screamed at me for murdering him. Although I loved the mouse and in no way meant to harm him, I lived with that guilt for over 11 years. Like you said, many people may find that silly because it's "just a mouse" or "just a rat," but as you know the amount of love that goes into small creatures is immense.


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## GhostMouse (Sep 6, 2011)

The loss of a pet is incredibly hard. It's terrible that their lifespans are so much shorter than ours. Your boys were clearly immensely loved. You did all you could for them, and I am sure they knew that. You did the best thing for Liam.

Two years ago, my cat, Sheila, had to be put to sleep. Her health had rapidly declined in the past year; she had always been "healthy-chunky," but she became incredibly thin. She could barely walk. It was so obviously a struggle for her that I would carry her around the house whenever I could. She also began acting confused, and senile. It didn't help that I'd taken in two kittens at the same time her health started to decline (and I will always wonder if that was my fault). It was even worse that I'd taken in a pregnant stray cat and was caring for her and her kittens, although she and her litter never came near Sheila.

I could see Sheila's quality of life degrading. I could see that she was uncomfortable, and no longer herself. I begged my parents to take her to be put to sleep. They had been trying to ignore her symptoms ("Well, she's still getting around okay!" It was hard for all of us to accept how poorly off she really was), so I had to be the one to push for it.

I insisted on being in the room with her. My mother and brother did not come to the vet with us, and my dad had sworn he couldn't be in the room, but he came in because I did. They gave her a dose of sedative first, but being given a shot only made her angry. She was already defensive because she was in an unfamiliar, scary place, and that did nothing to help. When the time came, she growled at them. The vet's assistant had to scruff her and she died growling. I cannot explain how much doubt filled my mind at that moment, and has ever since. My dad and I have never told anyone about that. However, I have to remember how hard I pushed my parents to take her, and how miserable she looked, for me to have said that. 

While it is incredibly hard to see it not go smoothly, you and I both chose to put our beloved family members out of their suffering, and we can both take solace in the fact that they are no longer in pain now. You made the right decision, but it is completely normal and okay to feel doubt about it, even this long after the fact. Mid-July marked the two year anniversary of Sheila's death, and I teared up writing this. Grief is not something you will simply "get over" quickly, but perhaps taking in an animal (not necessarily rats) can help ease the pain.


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## 1a1a (May 6, 2011)

I can relate...to all of these stories, I don't think euthanisation will ever feel right, even though my recent experiences have been at the vet, they still left me filled with doubt and guilt. You definitely aren't alone, and as has been suggested, you meant well and don't hold on to that guilt for ever, that we can give our animal companions an enjoyable life most of the time is what really matters in the end right?


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## TheHermit (Nov 15, 2011)

Thank you, everyone. Part of me didn't want to come back to this post out of the irrational fear that I would be 'flamed' for doing the online DIY way. You've all proved me very wrong and have made me feel much better. I've been having "grief episodes", where something small will remind me of my boys and I'll immediately think of Liam and become irrationally upset. 
I do have three girls now, Lilly, Maggie and Penny (Lillith, Magdalene and Penelope respectively). A change in gender has helped a lot somehow, but Lilly is a few months short of a year and I can't stop thinking about how long James lived and that, even though Lilly comes certified from a vet and James was a feeder, she might see the same too-soon end. My family is moving out of the home as well, and we've been discussing whether or not to move the boys with us (crude "coffins" were built for them by my dad, so it wouldn't be too nasty except for James... he was the first and got my high school gym shirt) or to ask the new owners to respect that area... if anyone has encountered that particular situation, a little insight would be awesome.

Again, thank you, so much. I really needed to hear from other animal lovers and fellow rat owners. I would never let this pain hinder my little girlies' quality of life (ex, keeping them in the cage out of fear or something silly) but it's hard not to overreact to them 'aging'.
But yeah, just.... thank you. So much.


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## Jaguar (Nov 15, 2009)

What you did was respectful, and a much better choice than letting him suffer a painful death. As much as it may be frowned upon, I personally feel that at-home euthanasia is possible if it is properly controlled and executed. You have to commit to what you are doing. You cannot flake out or change your mind half way through and you have to be strong about it. I have used the baking soda and vinegar CO2 euthanasia method on an ill rat who was obviously not going to survive the night. It peacefully ended all suffering, and I have no regrets about that. Now that I've done it personally I believe it is a viable option, although I would never recommend it as a first option. 

All I can recommend is to keep a better eye on your rats and perform routine health checks in the future - even hearing the slightest murmur in the chest could signify an oncoming illness and give you enough time to prepare and start medicating.


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## TheHermit (Nov 15, 2011)

Thank you, Jaguar. I did disturb the process quite a bit, and regret that very very much. They did it to my sister's rat a few months later (she had another brother of Liam and Edward's) and it took a fourth of the time, so I know it's not ALL bad, but I do wish I'd gone to my vet - even though, at that point, Liam thoroughly despised him.
I have kept a close eye on them. There are some behaviors I'm concerned about, and my oldest lady's nose started "squeaking" months ago, so I'm about to post elsewhere on that.


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## 1a1a (May 6, 2011)

Good to hear from you theHermit.

On the moving house and earthly remains, I think it will be ok to leave them behind, even graves don't last forever and that's normal/natural. I've see great suggestions for rat burial; cremation and burying the rat in a pot plant (grow the plant post burial) and I think these ideas are really sweet but I know I have other beloved rats, buried far away, in my childhood home, and a rabbit and a mouse buried elsewhere to that again and find myself thinking if I can't keep them all with me, then I shall keep none (I carry their memories with me anyway, that will suffice).


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## ratjes (Mar 26, 2011)

If I have to move I will remove all the rocks and other markers on their graves and take these with meas a sweet memory. Then I will leave my dear deceased animals where they are; in the arms of the earth, who will never tell anyone else what she holds so dear.


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## TheHermit (Nov 15, 2011)

Thank you, again  its been a huge comfort to me, posting here. My parents were concerned the new home owners won't want the orchard there, and tear it up, though only the most irriational city slicker would do that to that orchard.
I've decided to let my boys be, overlooking sunsets and forests. There are no markings (other than a broken bird bath), because we planted a garden there instead. All five boys (two my sister's) and Lilly's sister surround an apple tree in a circle. I think I'll suggest maintaining the garden and leave it at that.


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