The rats aren’t just middle aged anymore; they’re getting old. I’ve noticed one of them hunches over more and squints a lot lately. Tonight I made them a fresh bowl of fruits and veggies and tuna and was hanging out with them. After dinner, I was watching one of them try to climb into his hammock and he didn’t have the strength to pull himself into it. I’d noticed they hadn’t been sleeping in it much the last few days. He fell to the bottom from the top of the cage and I was horrified. I went over and he climbed out, across my arm and snuggled into the crook of my elbow and just sat there. I started bawling thinking he was going to die. He’s gotten so thin and I hadn’t even noticed. They’re not even two years old yet. There’s no way they’re going to make it to 3.
I rearrange their cage every time I clean it — you know, to stimulate them mentally. I think I’ve made it too difficult for them to get around, though, in their old age — I rearranged it tonight to make it easier on them. The other one still seems pretty spry, but they’ve both got little tumors and some respiratory issues. Ratties are prone to both. I’m traveling this weekend and I keep thinking about the last rat I had and how he had to be put to sleep when I got back from a weekend away. I don’t want to do that again. I don’t think I can have rats again. They die too soon and it’s heartbreaking.