My lovely little Pickle was put to sleep today at the age of three and a half. She had several tumors and a neurological problem that was paralysing her. The vet sad she could live another few weeks, maybe even a couple of months, but it would not be quality time.
My ex-partner and I got her back in January 2010, after our big rescue rat Ferkel had been desexed and needed a companion. She and her sister Pickle were tiny and crazy and silly and adorable and Ferkel soon became the sleepy head of a tight little happy family. Pickle became an absolutely beautiful little rat, who never bit or was anything less than thrilled to see us when we got home. She was always active, my ex used to joke she was lifting weights when we were at work.
Even after we split up, he still came over to see the rats. We were both there when her sister died over a year ago, and he still checks in to see how they’re doing. He loved them as much as I did.
Ferkel died at the ripe old age of three with Pickle by his side, cuddled round him. After he died she was so upset at being alone I adopted Ted from the SPCA to keep her company, and then Floyd came along in February to make another little non-nuclear family.
She was bright and cuddly till the end, and sat licking my fingers after the vet gave her the injection. Saying goodbye was so hard. Ted and Floyd seem a bit lost tonight, they’re getting lots of hugs.
