The death of rats

I haven't added anything to this blog for a while; one reason for this was the death of my pet rat, Zoe, on the operating table. It's a risk to put a small mammal under general anaesthetic. I might have done things differently if I'd known the outcome -- maybe I'd have had her put to sleep straight off instead. I thought my remaining rats -- Lilian, Yaffle, and Muesli -- were looking at me oddly for a while after that. Lilian, who had lived with Zoe all her life and may have been her sister, wouldn't come out of the cage for two days.

In general, my rats trust me, and if something startles them they move towards me rather than away. They seem to feel safe on my shoulders, or in my sleeves. Zoe was very light on her feet and sometimes felt like a small bird perched on my hands (unlike Lilian who sits on her stomach). She was very fast moving and my nickname for her was sleekit, but sometimes she would fall asleep in my sleeve, making it much harder for me to type or turn the pages of books.