Zoe, last of 56

Zoe was the last of 56 rats we had at one time. The 16 rats we have now are all around a year old.

I did a new thing with Zoe. Instead of waiting until she was gasping for breath, or spending the last couple of days of her life trying to get her to eat a drop or two, I took her to be put to sleep as soon as her appetite waned. She was over 3 years old, bony, wheezing and had pale skin. 55+ rat deaths later, I knew her time had come when she did not want her treat or to finish her medicine on the morning of 2/14/12.

She chattered as I said good-bye and I know she understood and was in agreement with my decision.

After a very short period of grief, I was at peace.

The next day, I received a call asking for a temporary spot for Buddy. We would not have had room if it weren't for Zoe's death.

Two old girls

Had to put my next to last two old girls to sleep this weekend. Zelda was propping herself up to breathe. Denise appeared to have had a stroke. Neither would eat. Both were over three years old. I thought I was prepared, but remembering how Denise used to roll up like a potato bug has been hard. I didn't have but 15 minutes before church to put her to sleep and say our good-byes.

Most difficult has been knowing that Zoe is now alone. She seems okay. I'm trying to spend an hour with her in the evenings, but she seems ready to go back after half an hour. I take her out twice a day to get meds. I tried to introduce her to Demi, but Demi got huffy.  When I am over my cold, I'll try again. Something tells me not to work too hard on it, though, because Zoe seems to be failing too...she's over 3, has respiratory disease and is skinny. She seems to have a strong will to live, considering the way she eats, but I think the body is just wearing down.

From Whence Comes New Life

Conrad and Sarah were two of four.  The other two are Bernadette and Irene.  Bernadette has been here before, but Irene is new to us.  Of the four girls, Irene is the shyest, always huddling somewhere in the back of the cage while I played with the other three.  Now that Conrad and Sarah are gone, Irene has come out of her shell.  You would never know she had been shy.  When I go to pick the two remaining girls up at night and put them on the sofa with me to watch TV, Irene is as eager as Bernadette.  Though she still won’t let me scoop her up in my hands, she readily climbs onto my hand and my am clinging to me until I take her to the sofa.  Even sitting at the sofa she is all over me, nuzzling my ear, licking my lips, trying to clean my teeth.

 

I was so strongly reminded of past rats in Irene’s sparkly eyes and lithe movements of her tiny body.  She reminded me of Lily and Flower, two other rats that came before her.  I tried to imagine what she would be like if Sarah and Conrad were still living with her and had trouble imagining because I think it is largely to do with hierarchy.

Eckhart Tolle says, “While nature is a beautiful expression of the evolutionary impulse of the universe, when humans become aligned with the intelligence that underlies it, they will express that same impulse on a higher more wondrous level.” At least to trust that there is so much more than I can see and that the universe knows what it is doing causes me to get quickly to the wondrous and away from the sad.  I was so wrapped up in the joy of Irene last night that it was difficult to think about Conrad and Sarah.

Grieving

Last night, the first night without Sarah, I knew the hard part would come when I tried to sleep. "Mindfulness," I thought, knowing I needed to sleep and did not want to grieve anymore right then. "I am in a soft bed; the room is cool; the music is soothing; the covers are warm and I am sleepy." I realized I felt guilty for not thinking of Sarah. Am I not supposed to be sad?

But Sarah is now part of me, part of that oneness that makes up all beings. What is there to be sad about? I miss her bright eyes, her eagerness. But is it not there, forever in a picture in my mind? Nothing replaces her presence though, except when you see those same bright eyes peering out of a new rescue and you know you are being revisited.

"I commune with the Spirit in people and in all things," Ernest Holmes.

So still, though, as my realization leans more in that direction, Sarah and Conrad and all the rats before them and all the people I have loved and lost (Joella, Papa, Gandma, Bill, Freddie) are still here, usually unseen and untouchable, but still in communication, still part of me. (I felt Freddie's presence a week ago, while laughing with my son).

I'll take all the help I can get for I still believe in heaven, the Rainbow Bridge, anywhere that I believe I can see and touch all of these beings again. Somewhere this past year I heard that your own belief in the afterlife is what you will experience.

And Eckhart Tolle teaches that my primary purpose is to experience the moment I am in and that anything else will lead to suffering. So, thanks to that wisdom, last night I slept peacefully, without tears or anguish. Would anyone really accuse me that I should have stayed awake and felt bad if I really cared?

Conrad and Sarah

For the second time in a month I awoke to a dead rat.  One of these two I had taken back from someone who had adopted them and no longer wanted them.  The other had been purchased at a pet shop by the adopter. The first I had had as a baby and she had come back to me as the most affectionate adult rat I had ever had...constantly rubbing her face into my hands and kissing me. The second couldn't stand to be held until I spent a few weeks with her. Then she was a bright-eyed happy girl who was excited to see me.

So they both died of unknown causes (I'll get necropsies).

Doing the business of rescuing animals, I have dealt with over 80 deaths in the past 3 years, but finding Conrad (yes a female) dead, I was as grief-stricken as I was 30 rats ago. I anxiously looked through every death and animal book I could find.  Why? Why? I was mad at God. Mad at myself. What did I do wrong? She was young. I have three very old rats. Why not one of them? Why not Irene, who still won't allow herself to be picked up?

I finally came up with enough answers to get me through and keep me sane.

Now bright-eyed Sarah is gone. Yesterday all happy and full of energy...took her to be spayed and she came back half-dead. I nursed her and held her and begged her, but this morning she was gone.

From "Creative Mind" by Ernest Holmes:
"Learn to see God in all manifestation, in all people, through all events."

I now only have 18 rats to care for, so more time to care for me, more time to paint, more time to give the other rats. It's all I could come up with.  My thoughts were interrupted by a very loud bird. I looked outside, wondering if Sarah had become a bird. She did love to move.

As I was typing this, I looked up and saw the shadow of a bird on my glass door. Be free, Sarah, but I will miss you.