I'm down a rat. Spock. I don't know exactly why. He didn't either. He was fine when I brought them out to run around on their table, and an hour after that when I'd finished feeding me and gave them some pasta to chase around. Then I sat down to watch an episode of something across the room. When I came back, he wouldn't wake up. Kirk tried to help me. Whatever happened, Spock didn't even have time to notice. He just stretched out on their play blanket to sleep and stayed there.

I wondered, when he was the first one to develop snurfles, if maybe he wouldn't last very long. Pet rats are pretty inbred, like cocker spaniels only worse, and they can fall prey to unfixable congenital anomalies. I hoped I was wrong. I guess I wasn't.

Spock did not live a long life, but he lived a good one. He received many pets, and ate many foods. He lay out on their little rat balcony, chittering and licking my hand like a dog, while I scratched delicately down either side of his spine. He chewed on his brother rats sometimes, and he slept often on the roof of his house, squashed underneath the cage cover. He lolled near the ice bottle when it was hot, and spent many of his evenings during the colder months hiding inside my sweater. He rode in my basket of dirty laundry down to the basement, on my shoulder to see the front porch, and once, he even rode the subway, tucked inside a cardboard box lined with an old pair of pants and the paper wrapper from my lunch. He never knew what it was like to be hungry or alone.

He has been laid to rest with many sad pets and a handful of uncooked pasta, in a shroud made from a chunk of his favorite cage blanket. His costume went with him, as befitting an honored member of the Mighty Rat-vengers.

I gave the other rats some curry. They're a little confused. They might be more confused later. They're more worried about Mommy being in distress than where the other rat went right now. I might end up staying up all night watching them. I don't know.

Young Spockling

First beering -- plus bonus french fries!

Thor, Rat of Thunder

May he be remembered proudly


  1. Aww. It is kind of comforting knowing that their fuzzy lives were pleasant ones, isn't it?

    1. Pets exist to love and be loved. It is easy to make an animal happy. They want food to eat, water to drink, comfortable places to sleep, and as much attention as you will give them. No matter how awful everyone else thinks you are, if you have a pet, then you know there is one creature in this world who will never be disappointed as long as you keep coming home.

      My mother was not very good at a lot of things in life, but even she got the hang of that. No pet of ours has ever been anything but loved and spoiled.

    2. I cohabit with three cats. I like them, they mostly look after themselves provided that we provide kibble and the occasional dose of gooshy food.

      There are very few things nicer than sitting in my armchair with my laptop, having the two girls squabble over who gets to sit in my lap while the boy sits on my footstool.

      As far as I'm concerned, the cats are what make home HOME.

  2. Poor little Spock. May his next life be as comfortable and full of affection as this one. I'm sure he was happy to the last.

    Are you holding up ok? *hugs*

    1. I'm okay. I have to say that this way is much easier than watching them be sick and distressed for a couple of days before they go. It was very obvious he had no idea, he just laid down for a nap with his chin on his paws and slept himself away.

      The other rats are a little bit annoyed that I keep poking them to make sure they're breathing, but they got tuna the last time I did it, so I think they're warming to the idea.


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