A Life Well-Lived in Trichotomy

Since we came back from France, we noticed that our pet rat Henrietta had lost some weight. I’d thought that’s because she is leading a healthier life style now, so didn’t think much of it. And La Professeure and I were both sick at the time, so we didn’t pay much attention.

By Thursday though, we noticed that she has stopped eating regular food, and was obsessively doing this strange motion where she would clean her face, and act like she was trying to pull something out from her mouth. We took her to a vet on Saturday, who said her teeth was bothering her.

By Monday she was still doing it, so we took her to the regular vet (he was on vacation), who said that there is probably a tumor inside of her, and just gave some medicine that would control the pain. By then she had lost even more weight, and was eating even less - she was rejecting even treats by that time. We had to get baby food and health food and hand feed her.

Through the week last week she ate less and less, came out less and less, till yesterday she was practically in her cube all day, and would only eat if La Professeure practically shove the food into her mouth. And even then she may reject the food. And by now her front arms have lost its fur and her nose had turned blue (we can’t be sure if it’s because of the tumor or the excessive grooming). In any case she does not look comfortable most of the time. She may have an hour or so of lucidity and come out to explore, eat hand-fed food, but after that, she would go back to her cage and just stay there and do her obsessive grooming motion. She wouldn’t touch the baby food we leave out for her over night.

So La Professeure talked to the vet today and agreed that she is not going to get better. We made an appointment for next week to, erm, send her on her way.

Henrietta acts more like a puppy than a rat. She is very friendly - she would crawl up anybody’s arm - she is nice - she never bites, and she is smart - she has a publication. We are heart-broken. I’ve been in a funk this whole week.

When I look back at the almost-3-years she spent with us (we got her when she was about 2 months old and that was January 2013), she saw us move into our house, got married, and go on our honeymoon. All along the way she never failed made us smile and laugh, even when times were difficult. I like to think that we have done alright by her.

She lived a long life (95% of rats die before their 3rd birthday), made us (and a lot of people) laugh, and even published a paper. She touched our lives and made it better. I think, in the end, that is what all of us can ask for, no?

Last updated October 25, 2015