Ian foolishly promised me that I could have a couple of ratties for my 30th birthday. So, being the patient soul that I'm not, I started hunting around for ratties just over a month in advance. I inspected all the local pet stores .. but they all had male rats. Some of them had adorable gorgeous male rats, but Ian said no .. no male rats ... he knew I'd breed them .. plus he'd have to fork out for castration costs. Meanie!!

So I hunted websites. There were a few waiting lists for litters I could have joined, but I'd not have had the rats in time for my birthday. So, I decided to go to Pets@Home in Stafford ... a store I rarely go to. Lo and behold; they actually had two girlies in. I had to have them. It took me twenty minutes to finally get hold of Ian by phone ... but he agreed; I could have them! (He tried not to agree, but failed).

So Poppy and Lilly came home with me. They lived out their quarantine in our room. Their personalities were immediately obvious. Poppy was outgoing and playful, and would push all boundaries as much as she could. Whereas Lilly was very timid, and though she wanted very much to follow Poppy everywhere, she didn't quite have the courage to do so.

It's taking quite a while to introduce the two of them to the ratroom. Lana and Hannah are proving to be bullies. Poppy has now figured that she can run rings around the two of them .. so she baits them, and plays on their reactions. She also seems to have become friends with Cecil .. they're very alike in personality; I can always guarantee that when there's a rat on my head it is either Poppy or Cecil!

Update (October 15th 2008): Poppy is a right little tyke. Poppy is a rat that is fun to just cup in your hands and cuddle; when you do so, she will happily lick your hands for you. She scampers and she plays, and she steels anything she can. Unfortunately she's also proved to be a bully to newbies. And she's become fat!

Looking at the rats in Pets@Home one day I was surprised to see what I thought was a female; they'd had only boys in for absolutely ages, so I got excited thinking there was a cage full of females. I asked someone if they were male or female, and he said he thought they were male, so I asked if we could check. The first one he picked up was female, so he admitted that he had been wrong. While I cuddled the female, he picked up another; who had some very obvious testicles. In fact, all the others had testicles. I said I'd take the female, and that if she was pregnant I'd give them the babies back. However, we then spotted that they all had ear mites; ear mites are evil .. and as is the store policy, they cannot sell defective products ... so she had to go into the back for treatment. I put my name down for her, and eventually she came home with me.

Three weeks on and she hasn't given us any babies (no fair); and she is starting to come out of her shell. She has been very timid and scared of us; she won't take treats yet, but now that her cage is in the ratroom she has started to acknowledge me as a safe haven from the other rats, and also as a climbing frame of course.

Because of the fact that Keith and Cookie did not get on, I decided that we needed to get Keith another friend. As it happened I went into a petshop just before Christmas to find that there was a gorgeous guinea pig there free to a good home. I told the lady I would ask Pooky, and then get back to her the following day. Pooky eventually said yes, but by the time I had got back to the shop she had given the piggie to a young child whose own guinea pig had unexpectedly just died. At least it got a home!

This however, made me determined to take home a guinea pig. I begged. I was allowed. So I went and sat in the petstore and watched the piggies in their enclosure. There was a large group of them. Some were obviously more bossy than others. As I watched I noticed that the little ginger one was fairly obviously very submissive. This is what I was looking for; a piggie who would be submissive to Keith, so that Keith could love and adore him without being biffed in return for his efforts.

Percy wasn't named for a while. We assumed that he would have a name beginning with 'C' or 'K' (nb Cookie & Keith), but as it happened he eventually told us that his name was Percy Pig.

Keith wasn't too keen to love and adore Percy. He was miffed that he had to share his beds, his forage trays, his bunnies, and most importantly, his food, with yet another piggie. He spent a while grumbling about it, but has decided that it doesn't really matter as there still appears to be plenty of food to go around. Cookie isn't too keen on Percy either. What neither Cookie nor Keith realise, is that Percy is probably going to be much bigger than them when he has finished growing.

At the moment, Percy is a a timid little piggie who hides from his own shadow. He's not to keen on being touched or cuddled, but that's normal for a guinea pig. If he thinks it's time for food, he will start weeking musically from the rabbit cage in order to draw my attention to the fact that he'd like his food delivered to his paws. His weeking usually starts the other two piggies weeking excitedly with him.

Update (13th October 2008): He's the biggest pig out of the three of them, and knows it. Until very recently he was terrified of Cookie despite being bigger than him, but he suddenly discovered that if he sinks his teeth into Cookie, Cookie will leave him alone. As such, at the moment, he is being kept in a cage unless we are around to supervise him. He doesn't mind too much so long as he has a supply of food. He's a naughty piggie!

When Steve passed away we figured that, guinea pigs being sociable animals, we should get Keith a new companion. We gave him a little time to get over Steves lost, then one day went up to the RSPCA to see which piggies were available. As it happened there were three baby piggies, brothers, available. All of them white, one with very long fur, and one with a smudge on his face. Pooky fancied the one with the smudge on his face, so the following day, Cookie came home with us.

Despite this loving gesture, Keith was not impressed. He rumbled away at Cookie, telling him that the ratroom was his territory, the bunnies were his friends, the food was his, and that Cookie was a general nobody. There was no fighting, and the room is easily big enough for them to completely avoid each other, so we left them to it after some supervision. I'm not certain whether or not Cookie was making an effort to get along with Keith, or whether he was aggravating him, but a few days later I heard squealing coming from the ratroom. I rushed in, to see what looked like blood coming from Cookies nose and mouth. I phoned the vets and asked what I should do; they said to take Cookie up there straight away. As it happened though, I was in the middle of dying my hair. So I threw a towel round my shoulders, grabbed Cookie and ran up the road with him. Cookie had a bite on his face; one tooth mark very close to his nose, and the other very close to his mouth; that's why it appeared that he was bleeding from mouth and nose. No panic. The vet did however advise me to wash off the hair-dye that I'd got all over his tummy. So Cookie and I sat in the bathroom washing the dye off ... he ended up with a very pink tummy, and an orange streak down his side from where the dye ran as I washed it out.

I suppose it is probably that traumatic experience that has created in Cookie a hatred of being picked up or cuddled. As soon as your hands go around his waste he will squeal and squeal (til the walls fall down). He doesn't wriggle, fight, or bite .. he just squeals.

Since Percy has joined the family, Keith and Cookie have become a little closer. They're not exactly best friends, but they have a common enemy to rumble against.

Update (October 13th 2008): He's actually the best behaved of the piggies for a cuddle these days; so long as you cuddle him outside of the ratroom. I guess he has his street cred to consider. He has been known to sit on my lap contentedly for fifteen to twenty minutes without struggling, complaining, or toileting. I wouldn't subject him to that frequently though.

Ian and I went with Chris and Lisa to the RSPCA six years ago. Chris and Lisa came home with two cats; Paddy and Patsy. This year Paddy was poisoned, leaving Patsy on her own. She no longer wanted to live outdoors. Once she moved into the house though Lisa discovered that she was allergic to her. So ... she came to live with us. She's been here a week, and seems to have settled in fine so far.

Once upon a time I went down to Croydon to stay with Bev. We then went to see Colin further south. The three of us went exploring, and accidentally found two gorgeous rats in the Pets@Home store in Horsham. For some reason I was the sucker that bought them. I'm very happy, coz they're absolutely gorgeous.

Bella is one of the only rats that Poppy will put up with. She decided she liked Poppy and Poppy didn't have any say in it. As such sometimes she spends the night in the cage with Poppy and Ploppy.

Once upon a time I went down to Croydon to stay with Bev. We then went to see Colin further south. The three of us went exploring, and accidentally found two gorgeous rats in the Pets@Home store in Horsham. For some reason I was the sucker that bought them. I'm very happy, coz they're absolutely gorgeous.

Martha is very very cute, quite timid, and very sweet. She tends to hide a lot. I think she sleeps quite deeply; you can rattle around the room for ages and she won't realise you are there until you wake her up.

Paloma is one of the many babies that Colin produced in the summer of 2008. She isn't scared of people, but she also isn't very interested in us at all.

Tabitha is one of the many babies that Colin produced in the summer of 2008. Bev came with me to Colins to help me steal babies, and she fell in love with Tabitha the moment she saw her. She shoved Tabitha up her sleeve and declared that I was having her. So I did.

When she first came back here she was very nervous. She kept hiding in little crevices; I suspect she was probably one of the babies that I had to dig around in the nest to find at Colins. She isn't very keen on handling, but she definitely likes people. She has a very cheeky look in her eye; she will stare at you from across the room cheekily, then disappear and start staring at you from somewhere else. At other times she will climb all over you; she has a habit of jumping off the radiator on to my back.

I had a text message from Jackie one day, telling me that she'd met a guy who had a rat that he wanted to rehome. She asked, if it was a female would I take it. I said yes, but that I'd have to find her another home. Between her and I we'd find somewhere. Basically, the guy she met had the rat from his brother when his brother went on holiday. When he came back he didn't want her back again. He had originally been keeping her in a very small hamster cage; the kind of cage I use as a carrier for my guys. The brother had bought her a huge cage; the same size as our guinea pig cage. Absolute luxury, especially for a rat on her own.

So Jackie investigated and found that she was a she. I had a stroke of inspiration and for some reason just new that her name was Mary. Jackie brought Mary here; Ian accidentally said to Jackie that Mary would probably be staying with us rather than being rehomed, so I didn't bother trying to find her a home.

She's a very quiet rat. Quiet of spirit that is. She expressed a lot with her eyes, but doesn't have much presence when with people. Rats on the other hand is another matter; the moment she was introduced to the ratroom she decided that she was boss of everyone in there .. including the rabbits. We did of course quarantine her for two weeks before introducing her to them, but once she was introduced we didn't need to put her back in the cage once.

She does like people though. She isn't keen to be picked up, but when you've been in the room for a while she'll happily hop on and off your lap as if you're part of the furniture.

Going to the RSPCA was kind of a punishment for Ian. We had been out for his Christmas do the previous evening. He had spilt an entire glass of red wine all over my best skirt. It was irredeemable. So I told him we were going to the RSPCA on the way home. And this we did. They had one rat in. A PEW; or so we thought. We applied. We were homechecked, and a week after we saw her I went and got her.

We were told that she is a year old, but I do not think she is. I believe she is only just four or five months old; she still has that pudgy little tummy that they have when milk feeding. Also, she is ruby eyed, not pink eyed ... and you can see an extremely faint blaze on her face, along with a wide stripe down her back. I would be inclined to call her a white roan.

The history that we were given was that she was found in a house after some people had moved out. They had simply left her behind. Poor girl.

She is extremely friendly. She likes to be cuddled. She also likes to explore and meet with the other rats. However introductions are proving difficult so far; someone has taken a dislike to her, but we cannot work out who.

On Valentines Day Ian and I went into Hollybush Garden Centre to buy bulbs for the garden. Of course we had to pop into the pet section while we were there. I usually go in there with baited breath, dreading what I might see. This time, my mouth just dropped and hit the floor ... hairless rats! (Healthy hairless rats, of a mature enough age to be away from their mother at that). Hairless rats!!!! I never thought I'd have any. I looked at Ian. He rolled his eyes. I didn't ask. I spent a while talking to the ratties. There was one rattie that kept coming to the bars and talking to me. He had a funny mark on his nose. I didn't dare say anything to Ian. We went and bought bulbs.

Being Valentines Day we went out for a meal in the evening. Whilst happily enjoying the meal Ian suddenly said 'Ok, you can have one.'

First thing the next morning I was back at Hollybush. I looked in the cage but couldn't see the fella with the mark on his nose. My heart sank. The shop assistant opened the cage for us and tipped all the rats out of their hiding places ... and there was my boy!

They placed him in a box, but as soon as we got to the car he came out again and sat in my lap the whole way home.

He spent the first few days sulking. I went and got him a friend, and now he is coming out of his shell a bit. Hairless rats are sooo warm! It's amazing. He's a beautiful boy. I had the mark on his nose checked out; it's a scar, so nothing to worry about. It looks like someone has bitten him right on his nose at some point; poor boy :(

We had bought Monty from Hollybush a couple of days previously. I don't generally like bringing home rats on their own, but in this case I didn't want to push my luck with Ian as I suspected it would lead to no rats coming home with me. Once home, Monty just hid from us, and played dead anytime I touched him. After a few days he was still doing this, so I decided to go and get one of the other rats that he had been with at the store.

I had a good look at the remaining rats, and chose the one that I thought looked the least like Monty. Monty being berkshire, and Darwin being a hoodie I thought this would do the trick; Ian still has trouble telling them apart though. They actually have very different shaped heads, and Monty is a lot bigger than Darwin.

Sooo, Darwin came home with us. He's doing his job well; Monty is now talking to us. Darwin is a very friendly boy, and has such an appealing little face *sigh*.

Moki & Diddles were sitting in the Adoption Centre at PetsAtHome pretending to be a blue hooded and lilac hooded. I knew Bev had always wanted a lilac rat so I texted her to see if she would like them, and indeed she did. So they came home with me. When I got them home they were not the colours they'd appeared to be in the store. I was a bit worried, so told Bev, who said she didn't mind. Phew. After a week or so of being with us though, Pooky had fallen in love with them. Yes; it's true.

Moki is the bigger of the two. As such you'd usually expect him to be dominant, but he wasn't. Diddles wouldn't let him eat, so I had to feed them by hand while they were in quarantine.

The two of them are now integrated in the ratroom. Moki is still a bit nervous around other rats; presumably because of Diddles bullying him up until now. As such he spends most of his time with Cookie, the guinea pig. He'll come round.

Moki & Diddles were sitting in the Adoption Centre at PetsAtHome pretending to be a blue hooded and lilac hooded. I knew Bev had always wanted a lilac rat so I texted her to see if she would like them, and indeed she did. So they came home with me. When I got them home they were not the colours they'd appeared to be in the store. I was a bit worried, so told Bev, who said she didn't mind. Phew. After a week or so of being with us though, Pooky had fallen in love with them. Yes; it's true.

Diddles was not designed to be caged. He's full of beans, and full of himself. When living caged with Moki he prevented Moki from eating; he'd stash the food and then guard it jealousy. He doesn't have the ability to do that in the ratroom. He's extremely playful, and very friendly (to me), and has generally settled into the ratroom fantastically.

It was all Bevs fault really (honest). She came to stay. We knew she would go home with more rats. Since I brought Monty and Darwin home from Hollybush, she'd hoped she would get some hairless rats herself when up here. On the way to Hollybush we stopped at P@H. Becki was there; she told us that they'd just had a delivery of gorgeous cute rats that were out the back, and brought them out to show us. Indeed .. a LOT of gorgeous cute rats. Oh my.

So, we went to Hollybush, where indeed, Bev did buy herself two gorgeous hairless boys. But we had to go back to P@H; we couldn't help it. The rats were calling to us. I came away with a little girl. A gorgeous little girl. It was a difficult choice; there were four I would love to have brought home lol.

After a bit of discussion she decided that her name is Angel. She was feeling very poorly when she first got here, but she didn't let it get her down. Being so young we couldn't use the usual medications to help her, so we used various alternative therapies. She recovered from all but her respiratory problem very quickly.

She's very playful, and I think she's going to be a plump girl.

Bob came to us as part of our first (official) rescue. A young lady I had known for some years suddenly needed to get rid of all her rats. There were 59 of them. The majority of them were rehomed for obvious reasons, but Bob was only two weeks old, and should really still have been with her mother. Not knowing who her mother was made this impossible, so we took great care of her, and Ian fell in love with her. So Bob is now living in our free range room with our forever rats.

Trinity was one of a litter of ten babies that were part of the same rescue that Bob arrived with. I had loaded the car with cages, choc full of 59 rats; I didn't even realise there was a litter of babies in the cage that she was in. An adult doe had moved them all to safety and was conscientiously feeding them. She evidently wasn't their mother, but she was doing the job and no other doe seemed to wish to. I fell for Trinitys markings the moment they came through, shallow as I am. Ironically she was the only one of the girls who didn't want to play with me. It is though probably better that the friendly ones from her litter went to forever homes as she may have been rehomed. She recently moved into our ratroom, and confidently strode out and became friends with the other rats.

When one of our rescues gave birth and abandoned her litter a local breeder took them in for one of her does to feed them (they failed, but she convinced the mother to take them back). When I had the babies back she gave me one of her own bred does too. A beautiful blue roan that she had fallen in love with herself but couldn't keep. It took her a few days to take to our house and the new surroundings; but she settled in. At the moment she is keeping us up at night using the wheel (we need to oil it).

Inara was one of the adult females that arrived with our original rescue. When I travelled back from Esther, unknown to me behind me she and another female were gathering up babies in one of the cages to protect them from falling out of the cage; we hadn't realised there were baby rats in that cage. The other rat lactated for them, but Inara stayed with them to act as auntie and companion to Mom. Then one day I saw her pin one of the babies down and give it a nasty telling off. Ian told me he'd seen her attack Mom earlier that day. Not wishing to risk the lives of the babies we removed her from the cage. A couple of days later she gave birth to her own litter of ten babies. At first she rejected the litter but with a little persuasion she took them on.

She's done a brilliant job of raising her babies, but no one has shown any interest in rehoming her or her daughters. As such we've decided to give her a forever home ourselves.

Shalina was one of these babies. She's a bit jumpy but is ok to be handled for a short period of time.

Frutella was one of these babies. She's happy to sit on my lap and be pampered.

Colin was discussing breeding his rats with me one day, when he mentioned that ideally he'd like a black hooded rex from a different line to his own. I thought to myself 'Hmmm ... I believe I've seen one of those recently'. I went to check in Pets@Home and indeed there was just such a little boy. A dumbo at that. So Colin said he would like him please, and thus, Martoof came home with me.

He was a shy little boy at first; not quite sure what to make of the strange hands that kept wondering into his cage and poking him. It didn't take him long to realise that I was his friend; he learned to play with my hand, and he liked to come out of the cage for tummy kisses and cuddles.

Eventually I had to hand him over to Colin. I cried.

Bev had accidental litters. Yaffle is officially adopted by me, but he still lives with his Mummy in a cage with his brothers. He'll be happier there.

Bev had accidental litters. Solomon is officially adopted by me, but he still lives with his Mummy in a cage with his brothers. He'll be happier there.

Bev had accidental litters. Jackson is officially adopted by me, but he still lives with his Mummy in a cage with his brothers. He'll be happier there.

I keep trying to stop myself going into Hollybush, because whenever I go in there I always fall in love with their rats .. and they're not a good place to buy from! Well, when I went in I spotted Cecil. She was less than half the size of the other rats she was in with .. I thought there must be something wrong with her, so I spoke to the lady who works there, and she said she thought she was fine. Next day, I went back and got her. She was so small; she must only have been three or four weeks old .. poor baby.

At first I assumed that either she was a runt, or that it was a mistake .. she'd been picked up by accident when the others were brought to the shop from the breeders. However, since then I've seen a whole litter of weeney ones in there. It makes me so cross.

Anyway. Cecil! She is named after a Great Great Uncle that I never met; a man that Auntie was very fond of. She lives in our room for more than the usual two week quarantine period, because she was so small that I was worried about her eating standard rat food (I was feeding her babyfood mixed in it), and I was also worried about introducing her to the others while she was still so small.

I didn't need to worry. She ran rings around them the moment she went in there. She's so excitable, and enthusiastic, that as soon as I introduced her to the ratroom she was off. After a while, obviously, she came across Lana (the boss) and Hannah (bosses sidekick), who weren't too keen on accepting any newbies into the group. At first she was terrified of them and kept scampering back to me for protection, but soon she realised that she was faster and smarter than them .. and took great pride in leading them on a merry dance around the ratroom, confusing the fur off them.

Now she's integrated and happy .. she prefers to run rings around me when she gets the opportunity. She will run up my trouser leg, or sleeve, or down my top .. and more than once I've suddenly realised that she's on my head, and I have no idea of how she got there.

Update (September 25th 2009): Sadly Cecil passed away last week. She'd been getting old for a while, suffering with respiratory difficulty and developing unpleasant lumps all over her body. She bravely made it through a week while we were away, under the care of our good friend Denise, but sadly let us know a few days later that she needed the vets help. It is with sadness that we say goodnight to our beloved little girl. Thank you for living with us for so long Cecil.

I had been for a booby ultrasound at the hospital. The hospital is in Stafford. When in Stafford one obviously has to visit Stafford Pets@Home. For over a year it has been almost impossible to find female rats, so when I asked what gender they were and found out they were female I bought them. I didn't even think about it, which is always what gets me in trouble.

Sausage was a beautiful grey hooded girl; her companion was a black hooded girl. I always fall for black hoodeds. Sadly, not this time. She was absolutely psycho; I have honestly never seen a rat act like this girl did ... at the sight of me she launched herself across the cage; she only managed to sink her teeth into me once though. I took her back to the shop; the one, and hopefully only time I'll ever do that.

Sausage was not impressed at being on her own. She sat on the shelf in the quarantine cage staring at us sulkily. She didn't want to talk to us, or play, and certainly not take treats from us. One day she just snapped out of it; no idea why. She climbed on to my hand and came out of the cage and just couldn't get enough play or fun. She hasn't stopped since.

She fitted into the ratroom straight away. She happily groomed anyone she could get her whiskers on, and was far too quick for the bullies to keep up with her.

We'd planned for ages to get guinea pigs, and we knew that Ian was going to name his guinea pig Keith. Apparently one of Ians acquaintances (named Keith) looked like a guinea pig, so Ian wanted to name his piggie after this person. We searched many shops but didn't find an appropriate piggy .. until we returned to the one shop we thought didn't have any piggies. They had been hiding in a tub when we had been to the shop earlier in the week so it seemed. The moment we saw Keith we KNEW he was the right piggy.

When Keith first came home with us, he was very nervous of us. He still runs away if we move suddenly ... or normally lol .. but that's just normal, natural piggy behaviour. Now that he's used to us and his environment he's keen to see how far he can push the boundaries. The piggies and Widget have the run of the upstairs landing as well as the rat-room and bathroom .. Keith has already learnt that jumping off the landing is a bad idea. I love this little bundle of fun :)

Update (October 15th 2008): Keith has matured and changed a lot throughout his life. When Steve was still with us, Keith was the bolshy dominant one, telling Steve what to do, first to the food etc. When Steve died, Keith became lost. Attempting to introduce others to him didn't work. At first he tried to dominate them, but he's a very small piggie, so once they grew they had one up on him.

He developed a problem with his back teeth. He couldn't eat. He had to have an operation to have them filed or clipped or something. Following the anaesthetic he had severe problems with his digestive tract; he couldn't eat properly, and was loosing weight. We locked him up separately to avoid the other animals form stealing his food. He recovered and gained weight, but he was now too timid to spend time with the other piggies at all. As such he has his own cage. The rats have access to the cage, which he doesn't mind, but the guinea pigs and rabbits cannot reach him (much to their frustration).

Murphy is a little scoundrel.

I saw Murphy and his brother in Pets@Home one day. I wasn't allowed them. I tried to convince everyone I knew that they wanted these two gorgeous ratties. The next time I went in Murphy was on his own. Then the next time, his brother was back. I eventually persuaded Ian that I was allowed them ... only when I went back AGAIN, his brother had once again been sold. So Murphy was on his own.

When the guy opened the cage, Murphy ran up his arm and sat on his shoulder. He wasn't too keen on the car journey home though, and didn't like his new cage at all. Due to previous bad experiences we decided to quarantine him in our bedroom for two weeks. He was very playful from the very beginning, but wasn't too keen on leaving his cage. He would gently take my finger between his teeth and pull my hand into his cage, and then play happily with my hand for as long as I left it in there ... the favourite part of the game seemed to be the pulling into the cage though lol. Once he found the courage to come out of the cage he would happily run round and round the room, playing with me all the time.

He wasn't quite so quick to settle into the ratroom though. He was so terrified of the other rats that he would freeze at the sight of them. They picked on him relentlessly. When we decided it was time for him to go and live in the ratroom, he was not a happy bunny at all. It was a nightmarish introduction, and I felt sooo awful for doing it to him. Every time I opened the door to the ratroom, he came scampering out and running back into our bedroom; the room he associated with comfort and happiness. For a few weeks I would allow him to come snuggle with me when I was napping. I even spent a night in the ratroom, during which he perched on my shoulder.

He is now settled into the ratroom. He tends to stay by himself, or with a guinea pig or two, but at least doesn't get bullied by the other rats anymore, and is a very happy boy.

Update (October 15th 2008): I should have written this ages ago. Last Christmas Smurf had a bit of a near miss. Smurf has always been a rat to great me; he says hello every day. One day he didn't say hi. I assumed he was sleeping. After a couple of days I realised that I'd not seen him at all, so started to search for him. Ian was saying he'd be fine, that it was nothing to worry about, but I had a feeling; he's my boy ... I knew something was wrong. Eventually, I found him flat against the wall behind one of the cages. I really don't know how he got there. When I first saw him I thought he was dead. I pulled the cage forward, and he just slid down the wall. I started crying hysterically, but I thought I saw his arm move ... I didn't really beleive that I had, but picked him up anyway. He was so cold; as you would expect a corpse to be really. But his eyes moved, and his limbs moved a bit. We took him straight to the emergency vet, who put him on fluids and eletrolytes, and kept him over night. Neither they nor we expected him to pull through, but he did. He's been a little more subdued since the incident, and his body temperature is a lot lower than it used to be, but he's still my lovely boy.

Following Fissys sad demise, Widget became depressed, and would be found moping around the ratroom. We gave him a little time, then took him to the RSPCA in order to choose himself a new companion. He met several females, all of whom were lops; none of them were interested in him, nor he in them. One of them did show an interest in him; a rather too keen interest, which we thought inappropriate for our poor passive bunny. When he and Wispa met, Wispa took a good sniff at him .. and for the first time he showed a little interest in her. That was that; Widget had chosen his new friend.

I have my suspicions that Widget may have chosen Wispa because she looks so much like Fissy. I know that animals generally use a sense of smell rather than their eyesight to recognise one another, however, all of our animals greeted Wispa as if they already knew her. I can only assume it was because she looks like Fissy. Or possibly, she smells similar to Fissy since she's the same breed. I don't know.

Wispa is nothing like Fissy in temperament though. I've nicknamed her 'Destroyer'! Every morning I go into the ratroom to check on everyone, and she has tipped the litter trays all over the floor, pulled everyones bedding out of their nests, and shifted all the furniture around. She is usually sat in the middle of it all looking very pleased with herself.

She's an extremely energetic bunny. She starts scrabbling at the ratroom door begging to be let out at about 7:30am every morning. Once I let her have the run of the hallway she usually wears herself out within half an hour, so I can have peace and quiet for the rest of the day.

Update (October 15th 2008): Wispa was proving to have a problem with food aggression. We came quite close to rehoming her, but the lady who was going to take her is very experienced with rabbits so had some suggestions for us. We changed her diet. The dry mix food that you buy at pet stores is akin to junk food for rabbits. Basically it was causing her to be hyperactive. So, we changed her diet to vegetables and hay; the sort of thing she would eat in the wild. It took a few months, but she has calmed down and become a much better behaved bunny. She still chucks everything around the ratroom though.

I saw Mr Snuffles in the Adoption Centre at Pets@Home. I came home and asked my rat people if someone could take him. Jackie said she could, so I went back to the store to get him. When we were opening the cage to take him out I noticed that he had a headtilt; quite a severe one. So he was taken off display, into their vet care section, for treatment. I kept an eye on the section for a few weeks; eventually about a month later he came out on display again. Sooo, I got back online to see who would have him; this time Bev said that she would. So back I went again; he still had a headtilt, but there was no way I was going to point it out this time, so I brought him home and treated him properly for headtilt. His head only tilts when he's stressed these days.

When I first brought him home from the store I called him Snuffler; he was poking his nose through the holes in the box and snuffling .. and I figured that Bev would give him her own name when she got him. We had a lot of work to do with him. His previous owners had obviously not been very rat-aware. He'd been kept on his own, and was absolutely terrified of other rats. He had a bizarre habit of yawning at the cage bars every time I went past the cage; I believe that his previous owners put food in his mouth when he yawned, so he'd learnt to yawn as a way to get treats. He's unlearnt that thankfully.

When he first came back he would squeak every time I touched him. This is one thing that amazes me about rats; they may be terrified of you touching them, but they still don't bite you. I started off  by petting him gently in the cage each day; giving him small treats from my fingers every time I ate. He started to come to my hand to play and be petted. Eventually he came to the door, and then tried to come out. At this point we discovered that the head tilt could be problematic; every time he tried to come out of the cage he ended up facing the wrong way and thus climbing up the cage .. and had no idea of how to climb down again. He was quite good at landing on his head too.

With all the time I was giving to him I became very attached to him. Ian decided that he could stay, and so I made apologies to Bev and he became part of our family. It took him a long while to stop being terrified of the other rats, but he is now settled in and happy.

Here's a clip of him the day before he passed away.

Ian foolishly promised me that I could have a couple of ratties for my 30th birthday. So, being the patient soul that I'm not, I started hunting around for ratties just over a month in advance. I inspected all the local pet stores .. but they all had male rats. Some of them had adorable gorgeous male rats, but Ian said no .. no male rats ... he knew I'd breed them .. plus he'd have to fork out for castration costs. Meanie!!

So I hunted websites. There were a few waiting lists for litters I could have joined, but I'd not have had the rats in time for my birthday. So, I decided to go to Pets@Home in Stafford ... a store I rarely go to. Lo and behold; they actually had two girlies in. I had to have them. It took me twenty minutes to finally get hold of Ian by phone ... but he agreed; I could have them! (He tried not to agree, but failed).

So Poppy and Lilly came home with me. They lived out their quarantine in our room. Their personalities were immediately obvious. Poppy was outgoing and playful, and would push all boundaries as much as she could. Whereas Lilly was very timid, and though she wanted very much to follow Poppy everywhere, she didn't quite have the courage to do so.

It's taking quite a while to introduce the two of them to the ratroom. Lana and Hannah are proving to be bullies. Lilly screams blue murder if either Lana and Hannah go near her, even if they're not touching her. She has worked out though that she can hide down the side of cages because she is a lot smaller than the big bullies. This will of course prove problematic when she grows.

Nb; a year later .. she hasn't grown; she still fits down the side of cages!

I was somewhat surprised to say the least when I was given a bunny for my birthday. I've never had any inkling to own a bunny, so wasn't at sure at first why I'd got one. Ians brother and his fiancée have a bunny, whom I'd been showing concern about because he was at first brought into the house as a house bunny but then put outside in a horrible hutch. Apparently everyone thought I wanted to nick their bunny, so got me my own. I am still concerned about their poor bunny; he must get very lonely and bored outside .. not to mention cold.

From what we've been told of bunnies, we've been very lucky with Widget. He doesn't bite, or scratch, and he's very friendly. We were also warned that we would have to groom him a lot because he has long fur, but it honestly doesn't need grooming at all; he doesn't particularly like being groomed yet anyway.

When we first brought him back to the house he was very happy to run around the whole upstairs hiding in the most awkward places so we couldn't get him back into his cage, but Ian decided that it would be better for him to stay only in the ratroom (I personally disagree); so Widget is now a ratroom guy! He shared his cage with Sophie at first. He wasn't bothered by her at all, nor she by him; she still hides underneath him for refuge if she feels threatened.

We were told that it is best for rabbits to have other rabbit company. But none of the places we went to would allow us to bring another rabbit home to be friends with him. Two male rabbits won't get on unless they're litter mates, so we would have to have had a female bunny; the RSPCA although their girls are neutered didn't want us to take one of theirs, and the pet-store didn't want us to take one of theirs as they said she would beat him up. So he is a lone rabbit.

He doesn't know he's a rabbit though. I've told him that he's a long eared short tailed giant rat, and that's the story he's sticking to. When any of the rats question him, that's what he tells them and then all is fine. Given that rabbits are supposed to be so difficult to introduce to each other I am very surprised at how easily Widget accepts all of the rats. He gets a bit annoyed with them sometimes when they nick his food, but all he does is either stare at them very closely, or hop out of his cage and sulk.

I believe he is probably a bit lonely, as he often goes and sits in the smaller of the rat cages. At the moment he is associated with the day rats, which is why he sits in the small cage. We have been introducing him to the night ratties, and all seems well, so he may be a 24 hour party rabbit fairly soon.

Update (October 12th 2008): He's a fully grown, getting old, vacant wall-staring bunny now. We're never quite sure whether he's brain damaged, or whether it's a normal bunny thing to just randomly stare at the wall. He is much happier with a companion rabbit than without, despite having guinea pigs and rats around him, even though she bullies him. The only thing that excites him is feeding time. Most of the time he ignores our existence, but if he's hurt or at the vets he suddenly lets us know that he recognises us as the safe ground. It's reassuring.

I was a bit miffed when I brought Mauimain home. She was supposed to be a black berkshire dumbo .. but obviously wasn't. I had been into the garden centre a few days previously and bought a black berkshire dumbo, brought her home, and two days later she had died. I took her body back to the petshop to see if they wanted to do an autopsy on her, but their only response was to ask me whether I wanted a replacement or a refund. At the time I said neither. That wasn't the point. However, when I spoke to Ian he said I should have had a replacement. So I phoned them back, and reserved the other black berkshire dumbo female they had, telling them that I would be in on Tuesday to get her. When I went in, I could see that she wasn't there. I asked the lady at the til where she was, and they presented me with Mauimain telling me that she was the rat I had reserved. Well, since I've been keeping rats for a while I definitely know the difference between a dumbo and a top eared rat ... I could excuse the petshop not knowing what a berkshire was, but the dumbo business was too ridiculous; particularly since they charge different prices for dumbo rats. Anyway, I brought Mauimain home with me, wondering why on earth I'd bothered.

Mauimain soon brought me round. She is the most fantastic natured little rattie I've had since Jack passed away (nb, note Phoebe was still alive when I got Mauimain). Mauimain is always ready to greet me when I go in the ratroom. And always happy to play. She has enough energy to power London.

Update (13th October 2008): Mauimain remained a beautiful, loving rat throughout her entire life. As she felt herself slowing down she wanted to cuddle a lot more than play, but she still loved spending time with us. I miss her.

I'd been keeping an eye on Tuoey in the pet section of Hollybush for a while. He was a cute little fawn dumbo boy when I first saw him, all baby fur and whiskers. By the time I nagged Ian into allowing me to have Tuoey he had grown into a small, but handsome fella, but was by no means fully grown yet.

Tuoey spent his first few days in a quarantine cage in our room. He was absolutely miserable. So I introduced Samson to him; Samson being a nice mild mannered fella. Tuoey was delighted to see him, and started snuggling with him straight away. Being away from the ratroom stressed Samson, so after a few hours I swapped him with Ted. Tuoey, for some reason, thought that Ted made a good humping buddy, and thus got his first thumping.

Tuoey was only quarantined for a week. He was castrated and then introduced to the girlies .. who he decided were very yummy, so then got biffed even more. It seems that Tuoey may have brought into our rat-fold a nasty illness, which then killed four of our rats; the first rats he was introduced to being two of them. So his first few weeks here have been filled with biffing and sorrow.

Update (October 13th 2008): Tuoey passed away recently; he had infection in an abscess on his face. Tuoey was always a very distant boy. He knew and understood that we didn't mean him any harm, but he still did not like to be handled, or wish to play with us at all; any attempts to handle him usually resulted in screaming. He was a very muscular, large, strong boy, but was .. well .. as timid as a mouse. I knew something wasn't right when he started loosing all his muscle tone, and then lost weight. A lump came up on his face. We treated it with antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. At first it responded, but then it came up again, and eventually developed two holes. Treating and cleaning the holes were causing more stress and thus problems than if we left them alone. So we decided to leave them and keep him as comfortable as we could for as long as we could. He was a lovely boy.

I saw Hannah and Lana in Pets@Home when I went in to buy some rat food. Hannah was diving in and out of the bedding as if she were a mere-rat and the bedding were water. She was cute. I told Ian about her and Lana, and to my surprise he said to go and get them. So I returned the following morning, and fortunately no-one had bought them in the interim.

Update (October 15th 2008): Hannah was what Ian calls a 'dud'. She never liked people. She was a rat who would squeal blue murder when you picked her up, but would still come and climb on you if she thought there was a chance of yoghurt drops. Towards the end of her life she became chesty and so needed to be medicated, with the frequent handling/treats she became a little more personable. She was always her own rat though.

I saw Lana and Hannah in Pets@Home when I went in to buy some rat food. I put my finger to the glass of the cage they were in, and Lana chased it around in circles. She was cute. I told Ian about her and Hannah, and to my surprise he said to go and get them. So I returned the following morning, and fortunately no-one had bought them in the interim.

Update (October 12th 2008): Lana was such a good girl. She had an abscess on her head, which required daily treatment. I had to remove the scab each day, express any puss, tweaze out any dead skin and puss globules, fill with medication, and dry her off. Obviously she didn't like it, but she tolerated it, and licked me to show me she understood ... and happily munched any of the puss off the tweazers as it came out.

The abscess refused to heal properly. It kept pushing into new pockets which I could not access to clean. It took it's toll on Lana, until eventually she'd had enough. Poor girl.

The reason I had wanted to breed from Sophie, was because she was a much smaller rat than I'd experienced before. I don't have anything against normal sized rats, or large rats, but I enjoyed the size difference. When we got Jack, and he was also very small I decided that he'd be the perfect rattie to father some babies with Sophie (Sophie disagreed with this, but never mind). Holliy is the only one of the four babies produced that is particularly small. I now have much smaller rats from elsewhere, so know that neither Sophie, or Holliy are undersize, but Holliy is definitely much smaller than her siblings. I also now know that Jack was undersize for a reason, and I am hoping that Holliy is not also undersize for that reason.

Holliy is lovely. She's always very keen to entertain me, and just as keen to explore the world. She's obviously only ever lived here (no pet shop etc), but she is well aware that there is much more to the world than the rat-room, and she wants to get out there to see what it's all about.

She likes to play. She likes to crawl up our sleeves, and trouser legs, or inside our clothes. She likes to play hand games, and to pull my hair. She's very attentive; if I've a cut or scrape I take it to Holliy, as she cleans it for me perfectly. Ratties have a coagulant in their saliva, so her cleaning my wound for me helps to stem the bleeding.

Update (October 15th 2008): Holliy was trully her mothers daughter. Like her mother she lived for three years. Also like her mother she died from a huge tumour. She had various tumours removed, but as she got older having surgery became more risky. She was beautiful. She had wise communicative eyes like her Daddy. And she was spunky til the end.

Shari was the only rex born to Charlotte and Stanley (Bevs first litter). Hopefully she'll turn out to be an adorable cuddle munchkin like her mother once she's decided that we're not evil monsters who are going to eat her. At the moment she's still small enough to fit down the sides of cages, and behind the radiator etc. It's usually very hard to find her, because of this.

When I had first seen Hannah and Lana in Pets@Home there were two black hooded females in the cage next to theirs. However, when I went to buy them the day after first seeing them, those two had been sold, and replaced by a beautiful young female who was on her own. I felt extremely bad leaving her there, but didn't want to upset Ian by buying her when I'd just bought two others. I told him about her, and he said to go and buy her anyway, so the following day she came home with me anyway.

She settled in with Hannah and Lana, in the quarantine cage, straight away. I was a little worried as she'd been kept on her own in Pets@Home for a while, but I needn't have worried. However, the first thing she did upon meeting Ian was to bite him.

She has exquisite markings. She's a cream self, but with a darker beige stripe all the way down her back; though without a beige hood on her head. I'm told these markings are probably a transitional stage she's going through while molting her baby fur.

I was contacted by a girl on ClubRats2 who had a pregnant female rat, but no homes for the babies to go to. I'm still not sure whether she had planned the litter or not. Bev, Lora and myself volunteered to home a couple of babies each. Bev has one of the boys, Lora has two of the girls, and I have two of the girls. Megan is one of these girls.

When Megan came to us she didn't trust us as far as she could throw us. She would squeak if you touched her, and wriggle and wriggle to get away if you picked her up. I was assured that she didn't behave like this before we had her, which worried me even more. It took a couple of weeks, but she did settle in. It was probably the shock of traveling and then all her new surroundings that made her so upset. She's perfectly happy now.

She's a very cuddly little monster. She is one of the rare female ratties who actually likes to sit on your lap, or in your arms, to have her shoulders scritched. She's often awake during the day when other ratties are asleep, so is grateful if I pop in to give her some attention.

Pepsi came to us, along with Phoebe, via Bev, from Lucies Green Manns Rattery. She was slow to settle in because Holliy took a dislike to her, which she wouldn't forgive Holliy for. She also had a fight with Sophie, causing the wound that turned into the whole abscess problem that Sophie has had.

Pepsi is a very communicable rat. She's very affectionate, and will always greet me at the ratroom door (if she's awake). She likes to climb all over us, up and down sleeves and trouser legs, and she likes her cuddles too. She lets you know if she's fallen out with you .. so that you make great efforts to make up with her again (if you can catch her). She seems to love making up lol.

Update (03-06-07): Sadly, Pepsi has passed away. She aged gracefully bless her. In her last few weeks she started to decline more quickly. I started to find her asleep in the middle of the room ... often she'd be staring into space .. or appear to be delirious. In the end I took her to the vet for some help. She gave me a kiss, and I said goodbye. I wish she'd gone more quickly, at home, but I couldn't let her deteriorate any further :(

Bev had been contacted by someone she vaguelly knew the day before I went to stay with her in the summer. This person had informed her that he had bought a rat from a local petshop, but it had given birth to a litter of babies. They were old enough to be rehomed, so he wanted to rehome them. Bev had been trying to get in contact with him, but to no avail. The next morning she received a text message from him stating that he'd taken them back to the petshop. So we went to the petshop and Bev offered to give them all a home. Tiger is one of these ratties. She appeared to be the runt, and was extremely timid and scared. It wasn't until December that she came to live with me and Daddy-rat though.

Tiger has been here a month, but I still don't know her. She doesn't like cuddles, and runs away from you unless you have a treat for her .. in which case she snatches the treat and then runs away. She doesn't appear to be getting on particularly well with the other ratties. They were a bit indignant with her at first, but have now settled down to the fact that she is here. Tiger however, seems to think that the only means to socialise with them is by greeting them with a bite to the bottom. Usually whoever she bites on the bottom will, understandably, turn on her. She then backs into a corner and squeals blue murder. I've not seen any of the other rats actually touch her once, and have yet to find the tiniest scratch on her. I think she's just demented.

Bev had been called by the pet store because they had sold a pregnant female and had the babies returned to them. Bev being a rescue took them on. I went with her to collect them. On the shelf above them was another cage of rats. In this cage was a rat with beautiful unusual markings around her neck and shoulders, using the top of the cage as monkey bars. Well ... she came with us. I brought her home, Ian got stroppy, so she went back down to live with Bev again.

Autumn has only known life in our house. She's had glimpses that there is an outside world; the smell on our clothes, or on other rats when they return from the vets .. she has also been to the vets once when I took all the rats up for a check up. She likes the idea of leaving the ratroom though. If I leave the door open (while she's out of bed) she'll sneak up the hallway for an adventure. I think most of the adventure is in seeing how far she can get before she's discovered though.

As a tiny youngster she wasn't very interested in the humans, but with age and experience she has learnt that humans are a lot of fun. She likes to play at fair ground rides: I hold her securely between my hands and wave her around a bit. She likes to cuddle and be squished. But most of all she likes to eat yummy food, or snuggle up somewhere warm.

You can see aspects of both her Mum and Dad in her. Obviously, she looks a lot more like her Mum; and the way she snatches at food, or pushes people/rats away is extremely like her mother, but her willingness to entertain people and spend time with us is very Jack-like.

I went into the ratroom this morning to check on Autumn. She was lying on the floor in the corner of the room with her head in a KFC box .. not because she'd been eating from it, as it had been empty. She'd either fallen off the cage, or tried to climb it and not succeeded.

Her breathing sounded awful. The death rattle I call it.

I gently lifted her, wrapped her in my jumper, and carried her downstairs, curled up on the settee, and watched three episodes of Alias (thanks to the Virgin Central On Demand facility). I frequently lifted the side of my jumper and took a peak to make sure she was still breathing. At one point I think she stopped, but self preservation kicked in, as she started again, and even started breathing a little more deeply. It slowed again though as the time progressed.

It became evident that she wasn't going to pass of her own accord, so I phoned the vet and took her up this afternoon. It only took a slight whiff of gas apparently. So it was her time.

She's been a delightful rattie, from day 1. Both her brothers are already gone, but her sister is left .. the legacy to Jack and Sophie.

Night night Autumn. I hope you're happy and lump free

I was contacted by a girl on ClubRats2 who had a pregnant female rat, but no homes for the babies to go to. I'm still not sure whether she had planned the litter or not. Bev, Lora and myself volunteered to home a couple of babies each. Bev has one of the boys, Lora has two of the girls, and I have two of the girls. Mishka is one of these girls.

At first Mishka was a very cuddly, friendly girlie. She loved to see her humans and to play with us too. We named her and Megan 'The Mountaineers' as would literally climb your legs, and then your torso. More often than not, they wouldn't know what to do once they'd reached your shoulder.

As she became more used to the group of ratties she'd become a part of though, she realised that they were all push overs, so spent more time with them than us. She became the dominant rat. She was the smallest rat (as illustrated by the picture above), and yet she was rather obviously the boss of everyone.

Sadly, Mishka was the last victim, of what I call our Rat Crisis. I think she was the one to suffer most. The illness seemed to take the others very quickly, whereas poor Mishka took a couple of days to die; she was fighting it, but she didn't win. It astounds me that this spunky little rat, boss of all the others, was taken by this illness, when others amongst our ratties were not. She was such a beautiful rattie, and a funny little thing. Sleep well Mishka, I hope you didn't suffer too much.

Pepsi and Phoebe came to us together from Lucie Mann as a gift. Phoebe is the first dumbo I've ever had; she's dumbo by name .. and definitely dumbo by nature. We call her our blond dumbo (play on the word bimbo). She is so trusting, so loving, and so affectionate, but she's also really clumsy, silly, and .. well, she's our clown!

Phoebe is a very very friendly rat. Below are two perfect examples. In the first picture, you can see her with Jack and Steve (a guinea pig). We didn't realise it at the time but Steve was really really ill, and sadly died a couple of days later. Jack was also really ill with kidney failure. I'm not sure if Phoebe knows she does it or not, but she often seems to be the rat keeping the poorly rats company. She doesn't tend to steel food from the poorly rats like the others do either.

The second picture below shows Phoebe snuggled up against Wispa the bunny. This was Wispas first day with us, and she had shown rather adamantly that she didn't like any life form other than herself. The fact that Phoebe snuck up under the box and settled down beside her shows how welcoming she is (or how oblivious she is to who she snuggles up with). I don't think Wispa actually realised that Phoebe was snuggling up against her.

Oh Phoebe, I can't believe you are gone. You were my sunshine. You brought a smile to me every day. If ever I needed any love, I knew exactly where to go. You were so willing, so giving, and so lovely and lovable. So trusting. You allowed me to hold you like a beanbag in my hand, and tickle your tummy. And to shower you with kisses. I loved you so much Phoebe. Sleep well my sweet girl, and look after Ted.

As a baby, Ted was my favourite. He was a lot bigger than all the others, and as such his ears developed, his eyes opened, etc before the others. When he opened his eyes, we made friends; he used to run to us to play, and then he'd lick our hands for ages. When he (and Autumn) first developed their fur, as you can see from the first photo, they appeared to simply be buff hoddies. A few weeks on though, they both developed gorgeous seal points on their noses. The second picture is the best I have of either of their triamese markings. These beautiful markings have faded, leaving both of them with the odd splodge of colour here or there.

Ted is a cutie. I like to poke his nose. He doesn't enjoy being cuddled, but tolerates it a little, before disappearing into one crevice or another in the rat room. As some bizarre rats do, he tends to try to escape by burrowing a hole in your armpit.

Alas, Ted is now gone. Click here for the story of what happened. It's a long story really, but needless to say, he was taken from us far sooner than he should have been. He was in his prime; a big strong, squishy male, with a good future ahead of him. As an old rat I believe he would have become a big squish, who actually appreciated being cuddled, having his shoulders rubbed, and being spoilt with choccie drops from his favourite humans. But we'll never know. He is now curled up together with Phoebe asleep under the ground in our garden. Forever.

Samson is an extremely gorgeous, squidgy, not to mention tolerant, rattie. I think he must get his squidgieness from his fathers side, coz Sophie's not keen on being squidged at all. He's a lazy lump, and tends to spend his time hanging out with his lazy lump brother, Ted.

Alas, Samson is gone. I'm not entirely sure of what happened. At roughly a year and a half of age, Samson started developing the illness that his father, Jack, had and died from. We went to the vet to confirm that this was the case, and the vet agreed with the diagnosis. As such we knew pretty much what to expect. We decided not to upset him with all the treatments that Jack had had, but hadn't worked, so that he could enjoy the rest of his days with his buddies, undisturbed in the ratroom.

While we were away, we had a phonecall to tell us that he had passed away. At the time we assumed that this illness had just taken him much faster than we'd expected, however, because of following events, which you can read about here, we're not quite so sure anymore. Either way he is no longer with us.

Samson was an adorable rattie. He was very quiet in nature. He never wanted to get in anyones way; unlike his mother who was determined to get in the way all the time. He was intelligent too. Because, he was ill, and we knew he wouldn't live as long as you'd hope, I used to give him treats when the other ratties weren't looking. I'd tell him 'Sam, want a yoggie?', and he'd strategically move away from the others to receive his treat and munch it without being disturbed. Smart lad.

Night night Sammy boy.

Ian was working ridiculous hours, and feeling particularly guilty about it. So when I phoned him from Hollybush Garden Centre, excitedly telling him about a beautiful rattie I'd just spotted he simply said 'Ok then!' I was over the moon, and went skipping out of the shop with Coral.

On the way home I took her to see my friend Denise (another rat buff). Denise has two rats that are a lot like Coral in appearance. She was delighted to meet Coral, and gave her shoulder rides while I was there. Coral was very well behaved; didn't even leave any poops or pee on her shoulder.

When we got home Coral posed for some pictures for me, like a very professional rattie model. I am so glad I took these.

The following morning I noticed that there were spots on blood in Corals cage. I checked her over and found that she was bleeding from her urethra. I took her straight to the vets. She was given a shot of antibiotics and something else, but she became more ill. She was extremely lethargic; not caring what was done with her. She wasn't strong enough to reach the water bottle, so I fed her water from a syringe. I tried syringe feeding her food, but she wasn't interested. I gave her water every few hours through the day, and then sat with her all night on my chest to keep her warm, as she had become very cold. By the next morning she was too ill to carry on; we went back to the vets, where she was helped on her way.

She was very beautiful, and very gentle. It was short lived, but I'm glad I was there to care for her at her end. Poor baby.

At first Sophie lived alone in a cage, because the other girls refused to accept her. Every time I walked past the ratroom I could see her little face peeking up through the bars saying 'Mum .. Mum .. play play play!' I was hooked on her the moment I set eyes on her; and every time I saw her keen little face as she looked up at me I would have to go into the ratroom and give her a cuddle. After a couple of days she was happy enough to share a cage with Widget the bunny. She spent several weeks climbing over and under Widget whilst getting to know our boy ratties. She eventually moved into their cage with them, much to Dusty's approval.

She loves to run all over us, to climb up our sleeves and trouser legs. She loves to have scritches, though she can't stay still long enough to receive more than a few seconds worth. She's extremely energetic, and very boisterous; stealing food from other rats mouths, and pushing others clean out the way if she wants to get somewhere. She does it so innocently though.

She's best friends with Dusty. She's injected life and spirit back into him that started ebbing out of him whilst living with two old lads. Between Dusty and Sophie they kept Sandy going after Sniffs death, and now they're working on turning Dougal into a semi-normal rat.

Sadly Sophie is no more. She lived to nearly three years old. She spent her last few years nesting snuggly in a small hamster cage on the ratroom floor (through choice); sometimes a guinea pig would keep her company, sometimes a rat or two .. but she was always in there. Slowly the lumps between her back legs grew; making it difficult for her to in and out of the wee hamster cage, until eventually they were too much for her to carry around. She was still fairly savvy, but the tumours had come to the point where they would rupture and caused her agony, so we made the decision to allow her to go. She is remembered by a passion flower in our garden.

I felt drawn to Billy the moment I saw him. I could feel something was wrong. I mentioned it to a shop assistant, asking to have a look at him; I found that he was completely unresistant to being picked up, or manipulated, that his breathing was laboured, he was underweight, and he generally felt ill. I explained this to the assistant.

I returned the following day, to show Ian this little boy I'd falled in love with. I had spoken to Samson (rat) who had agreed to look after Billy, if/when he came home with us. And the name Billy had presented itself to me in reference to this poorly rat. Ian didn't want to bring Billy home, so we went home without him.

The following day Billy wasn't on display anymore. I asked another assistant about him; she had noticed that he was ill and had taken him out the back of the store. She brought him out for me to see him. His condition had deteriorated a lot already. It was so sad. She put my name down to give him a home should he recover, but sadly he passed away later that day.

I don't understand it, but I felt a connection with Billy. I only got to cuddle him twice, and whisper words of encouragement to him three times, but I truly felt that he was my rat, and though the time was breif I loved that rattie. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about his needless loss *sigh*.

In the words of James Blunt (though slightly adjusted):

So long, Billy, so long.
You only stayed a moment,
But we all know that you're the one.
So long, Billy, so long.
We're glad for the experience,
We miss you now you're gone.
We're just swimming in your soul

Oh Billy.

Dusty is the most fantastic little man. He has an extremely open, expressive face. You can tell immediately what mood he is in by looking at him. He's always anxious to make sure everyone is included; finding it difficult to choose who he should go to for a cuddle. He loves to sit in your armpit / on your lap, and receive scritches for hours on end. An adorable look of bliss comes across his face as he wonders off to la la land.

Dusty's a very sensitive chap. With such an expressive face, you can easily tell when he's not happy. He doesn't like change at all. Sometimes even cleaning his cage out can cause the little fella to mope around for at least a day. He accepts other ratties into his Mischief easily, and is a very good boss. It wasn't until Dougal joined the family that we realised Dusty was actually the boss, as Sandy had been boss for a long time, and we thought he still was, but it was Dusty who introduced Dougal to rattie dominance and rattie play around the rattie room. He becomes very attached to his cage-mates, and was upset at Sniffs passing, and upset again when Sandy passed away.

Dusty's best-friend is Sophie. I think he is glad of Dougals company though, as Sophie is very energetic and pushy, whereas Dougal, being another male is happy to relax in a hammock with Dusty. Dusty is always very careful to divide his time equally and fairly between his admirers .. it's really funny to watch him try and decide how to cuddle both Ian and myself at the same time :)

Update (29-June-2006): It's with great sadness that I report the passing of Dusty. We have known it was coming for quite a while, so have been keeping a close eye on him to monitor when he really couldn't take any more. I hate my ratties to suffer needlessly, and am ever so grateful that unlike with humans, we have the option of euthanasia.

My memory of Dusty runs like this: He was tiny when we brought him home .. and very cheeky. But on his first day home Izzy bit one of his testicles, causing a large gash; so he was rushed up to the vets straight away. He settled in very happily with Sandy and Sniff, and once he was a big enough to stand his ground, he held no grudge against Izzy at all. As time progressed and new ratties were introduced to the Mischief Dusty proved to be a very useful tool. He was the rat we introduced everyone to first. He held each rat down, and told them the rules. If there was any fighting between other ratties, he would break it up; he would literally stand in the middle and push both rats apart. He was dominant, and he knew best how to be boss. It was hard to tell at what point he retired, but it's been unclear who was boss for over a year now. It was probably when he became a big lump. He went through phases; sometimes he would love to come and cuddle on my lap. Other times he would prefer to cuddle with other ratties. He started loosing the use of his hind legs at least six months ago. He didn't let it slow him down though. He could still move them, so used them as propellers, using his front legs to steer him. As he slowed down more, we made sure that he had water and food available in his chosen nesting box so that he didn't need to move himself around. Until the last couple of weeks though, he still pulled himself into the hanging baskets every now and then. He was a wonderful rat, and he lived a long and full life. Dusty, I am so proud of you!

Widget had been moping around for a while. An only bunny, who sat in the middle of his cage (despite having the free roam of the room) staring at the wall. We didn't like seeing him unhappy so asked our vet for advice. A companion was the answer. We had been advised not to get him a companion when we first got him, and now that he was over a year old we were warned that it could be complicated introducing him to another bunny, particularly since he is male.

We took him to the RSPCA and told him that he was going to meet several female bunnies, from whom he must choose a friend. Most of the bunnies he met weren't particularly interested in meeting Widget; but merely happy to run around the large room that the bunnies are kept in. One showed Widget some interest though; Fissy .. or Rosie as she was then called.

Fissy had spent a long time in the RSPCA, and was labeled as being 'tetchy'. Three families had previously returned her, before we brought her home. Determined not to do so again, but also very aware that if she and Widget fell out, it could be detrimental to one or both of them, we set about learning as much as we could in order to settle Fissy in with us.

I read up on bunny communication. If the ears are back against the head they are feeling threatened; it depends on the bunny as to how they react. If the ears are perked up, as they are in the picture above, the bunny is showing interest in something. If the ears are leant a long way forward the bunny is supposedly happy. If the ears are twisted to the sides, the bunny is uncertain of something, and slightly wary. And lastly, but most useful to know, if bunny turns her back on you she's in a mood with you. To show the bunny that she shouldn't be in a mood with you, you face her and imitate grooming bunny style (pawing your face, and pulling your hair forward .. like a bunny cleaning their ears). Also, if the bunny upsets you, imitate bunny language, by turning your back on her. You can glance over your shoulder to show bunny that you might reconcile if they make it worth your while.

At first she was difficult. She was always fine with Ian and I, but had problems with Widget. At first Widgets opinion was 'Wahey, a female ... humpy humpy humpy' .. until Fissy set him straight pretty sharpish. (Nb, Widget and Fissy were both neutered).

The next biggest step was the stress bonding. Because she was so territorial over the cage she had decided was hers (which had actually been Widgets), she would chase Widget out and around the room if he tried to go in it. So after some advice from bunny keepers I discovered that the best way to bond them was to take them out for a car ride. Put them in a box together in the boot (with the boot cover off of course), and drive around for half an hour. During the drive they would huddle together because of fear. They share a stressful experience. They share an indignity. This is supposed to bring them closer together. Widget cowered underneath Fissy, while Fissy tried to climb out of the box to see what was going on.
It did work to some extent though. Having discovered that Widget was a big wuss, and didn't in fact want to be the boss of her, she decided that she liked him. They would cuddle together and groom each other. There was one last problem though; Widget had a skin tag on his back. When grooming Widget, if Fissy came across this skin tag, she would try to groom it off. This is natural behaviour; in the wild, if a bunny grooming another came across something like that, more than likely it would be a tick .. so they would groom it off each other. On Widget though, since it was not a tick, it caused him agony when she tried to chew it off. He would scream and run away and cower, terrified of Fissy for ever after. And Fissy not understanding why Widget had run away when she was being so lovely tended to chase him because she was indignant. I'm not sure where the skin tag went in the end; but it disappeared and the two of them got on extremely happily after that.

Fissy was a very good bunny. You could pick her up and carry her around without any problems. She held her ears back to show her dislike of the activity, but I believe she understood that you were carrying her somewhere for a reason; like taking her outside into the garden, or taking her back upstairs. She was also very intelligent; far more intelligent than Widget. And she always greeted us bunny style (a nose-nudge to our hand). Mind you; she absolutely refused to use the litter tray!

Sadly, Fissy was only with us for about six months. I noticed that she was having trouble drinking, but Ian was sure that he'd seen her eating, so I simply gave her small bowls of water every day thinking she'd taken a dislike to water bottles; it was the sort of thing you expected her to do. When she refused to eat a bit of carrot I gave her, I again asked Ian if he'd seen her eating, and he said yes. The next morning she had yuck on her nose, so we took her to the vets. They admitted her to hospital there and then. She had apparently broken a tooth, due to which an infection had got into her jaw. And because it had been left a few days the infection had then spread to her intestinal tract. Both jaw infections and intestinal tract infections are usually deadly in rabbits, so the hope of her coming home was slim. Still, we hoped. But unfortunately she died a few days later still at the hospital. We'd not been allowed to visit her, so we were even more heartbroken. The guilt of an animal passing so much before their time is very hard to deal with.

We spotted Dougal looking like a giant in the cage at Pets@Home one week. I phoned up to find out how long they were going to give him before sending him back to the breeder, and they said he would be returned the following weekend, so we zipped along in the middle of the week and grabbed him. He didn't like being in the tiny little box so he sat in my lap all the way home. He was fantastically cuddly and happy .. until he met Sandy and had a huge chunk bitten out of him. First day here and we had to rush him to the vets the poor thing; Lian (the vet) managed to stick herself to Dougal whilst glueing his wound together.

Update (22-Mar-2004): Dougal still isn't very personable. He doesn't like people much at all. In fact he's confusing me a great deal. I don't think I've ever dealt with a rat who hates being held so much but is so mild in temperament before; I can't imagine what must have happened to him before he lived here to traumatise the poor thing so much .. unless it was simply living in a petshop for so long. The good news is that he gets on fine with all the other rats, and the bunny. I'm not quite sure what to do about his extremely sensitive hearing though.

Update (24-June-2005): I take it back; Dougal is a soft little sausage. The two of us (plus Daddy-rat sometimes) have worked together to achieve an understanding. He's definitely a fraidy-rat, but he he's a very very brave fraidy-rat. He will climb up on to my lap of his own volition, even when there aren't treats available. He loves to be in the centre of the action with everyone else. He likes to have his tummy tickled, and allows me to pick him up and place him somewhere else provided the holding isn't prolonged. Basically, he just doesn't like being cuddled, or receiving scritches on his back, head, or sides. He's a lovely rat, really he is!

Update (22-January-2006): Sadly Dougal passed away a few weeks ago. He always suffered from what we can only assume were damaged lungs, often sounding like a motorbike. They didn't last him; they gradually got worse and worse until they took our little boy from us. He had become a very loving rat. He never enjoyed cuddles, but he was always keen to see me, and showed me that he loved me in many other ways. I miss you Dougal.

I saw Jack in Pets@Home when I had the car one day. He was on his own; obviously his cage-mates had been sold without him. He came up to the window of his cage and put his little paw against my hand on the other side. He was so cute and appealing that I had to take Ian to see him. Jack just sat in the corner and stared out when Ian went to see though; not selling himself at all. Eventually, a week later I managed to talk Ian into allowing me to get Jack .. if he was still there.

Jack wasn't too keen on leaving his cage in Pets@Home. He'd been there for two weeks or more on his own, so it wasn't really surprising that he was nervous. He didn't even want to come out of the box he was put in, during his journey to his new home.

He's proving to be the liveliest, most friendly little lad we've ever had. He's so keen to come out and play all the time. Be it with us, Widget, the piggies, or the other ratties. He's great buddies with Widget; Widget would have you believe otherwise, but he looks forward to Jacks visits every day. Jack grooms him, and climbs all over and under him.

As yet, Jack has not moved in with the other ratties, as he still has his manhood. He has made friends with Sophie several times, but we dare not introduce him to Noodle or Booboo coz a litter at their age would be problematic.

Update (21-June-2005): Jack is the king of my heart. I love him more than anything; more than chocolate! He has proved to be extremely intelligent, very loving, caring and considerate, and just about the most fantastic pet I've ever had. He's friends with all the ratties (and father to four), though I often find him on his own .. assumably coz they move off while he's asleep .. he's a very deep sleeper!

Jack is the only rat I allow to wonder the house. Ian doesn't like him to wonder, but Jack loves scampering out of the ratroom and having an explore now and again. So when he showed reluctance to leave the ratroom recently I was a little worried. Upon further investigation it became apparent that he couldn't remember us at all, or the layout of the house, and many of his behavioural patterns had completely changed. His behaviour remained changed for a week, during which I cried my eyes out every time I saw him. But then he was back. The vet suggested epilepsy, and indeed Jack has had another couple of these 'turns' (for lack of a better word) since then, though none have lasted quite so long. It really is breaking my heart to know that there is something wrong with my little lad and I can't do anything about it.

I cannot bring myself to actually talk about or describe Jacks illness, and ultimate death. As such, I will simply paste in my memorial to him (as sent to ClubRats2). Needless to say, I miss my buddy.


Jack,

I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you. You were behind a pain of glass, but you came up to it and rested your little paw against where my finger was. Your eyes captivated me. You were the only little soul left in there, all on your own. I wanted to take you home there and then, but did not. When I got home I told Daddy Rat all about you. He said 'hmmmm'. So when we next went to the shop, I showed you to him. You were sat in a corner looking dejected. Miserable. He wasn't impressed. We went home. A few days later when you were still there, you came home with us.

At first you lived with Widget because you still had your boy bits. You liked your big bunny friend, and happily snuggled up in his fur. Because you weren't allowed to mix with the other ratties yet, you were allowed to play with me and Daddy Rat in other areas of the house ... a privilege not allowed to any other rat. You never forgot this privilege, and would take every opportunity to run up and down the stairs ... steal Daddies pingpong balls, or just sit and stare at wire mesh on the upstairs landing.

You liked living with your bunny friend. When you were able to mix with ratties you at first still spent more time in the bunny cage than anywhere else in the room. You found it a little difficult getting to know the other ratties ... but there were some meanies around in those days! Despite having your babies, Sophie wasn't too keen on you, and used to rough you up. She stopped that after a while.

You liked to play. Sometimes when I came to the ratroom I swear you knew I was coming, coz you were there, right on the other side of the door waiting for me. Other times, when you weren't behind the door, you would drop whatever you'd been doing and scamper over to great me. You were my first licky rat. You groomed me, and washed my hair (or ate the shampoo in it), and generally made sure that I was a presentable Rat Mum.

We played together. We had a special game called the wiggle game. It was fun. I've tried playing it with the others, but they're not interested. I missed our wiggle game as you got more ill. I missed your spirit. Your energy. But your love was still there, and you still licked me, and made sure I was a presentable Rat Mum.

Jack, sweetie. I knew you were ill. But everyone thought I was stupid. How can a male rat smell female? How can you tell he's ill if there are no symptoms .. maybe he's just going through a phase. Why didn't any of them diagnose what was wrong with you? I wanted to know what was wrong. I wanted to fix you. I wanted to cuddle you and hold you, and give you my energy to heal you. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to poke you with needles. I didn't want to hurt you baby. I wanted you to understand. To get better. But you weren't going to. It was too late, and you'd had enough. I'm so sorry baby. I loved you more than you could ever imagine. I wish I could have you back. But I can't, and that really hurts.

You were my baby. You meant the world to me. And I believe that you knew that. Dusty knew it. I asked Dusty to look after you, and he did ... and he misses you too honey. You were so precious. Thank you so much for giving me all that you did. I hope we meet again.

All my love,

Your Mummy, Nim.

Steve wasn't actually a piggy that I chose. I had picked out a different black piggy, but when I pointed out a patch on his ear they took him away and said they couldn't sell piggies like that (so we hid the patch on Keiths ear that matched). So Steve came home with us instead. Since Keith had been named after one of Ians friends, I named Steve after the other friend from that group, so Keith is also known as Uncle Steve and Doctor Pugh!

Steve is MY piggy; which means that I get to pick him up and cuddle him every day, much to his annoyance I am sure. He's a lot more friendly than Keith .. he'd be useless in the wild, coz he'd want to go and make friends with the tiger's teeth as they came towards him. He LOVES his food; hay is his favourite, but he certainly isn't fussy. He's just generally adorable, and I'm glad I brought him home with me :)

Update (29th-January-2006): Steve passed away in the late summer. It was a really hot summer this year. I picked Steve up for a cuddle one day, and found that he was absolutely soaking wet underneath. I tried to get him to drink some water, but he said no, and he didn't feel like eating either. I took him up to the vets and asked them to rehydrate him for me, but the vet I saw said that he was fine. I was then away for a few days, during which Ian was taking care of Steve. Ian phoned me one evening to say that Steve wasn't looking very well; he then took Steve to the veterinary hospital the next morning, and my poor baby died later that afternoon.

Steve was a delightful piggie. He wasn't overly keen on being cuddled, or prodded on the bottom, but he was very friendly, and bright, and lovely, and healthy. He used to come and half climb onto my lap, to tell me that he wanted food, or just to see what was going on. He had to stick his nose in everything. He had a beautiful voice; much higher in pitch that Keiths. I absolutely adored Steve, and was shocked and broken when he passed away :( Another animal-friend who passed before his time.

Miranda died very suddenly and unexpectedly in February. We had to go and stock up on rat supplies the same day, whilst there we spotted this little fella and asked to handle him. He was so friendly and interested in us that he then came home with us. Izzy moved in with Sandy and Sniff happily at first, but we noticed after a couple of months bite marks appearing on Sandy. We knew that Sniff wouldn't do this as he kept his teeth in pristine condition for eating, so we kept our eye on Izzy. He was displaying anti-social behaviour in general, so we separated him into his own cage. The poor little chap was sooo miserable living on his own, so we introduced Dusty. Izzy didn't appreciated Dusty, biting a large hole in his testicles on his first day with us. The last resort was to have him castrated which we did. We tried to reintroduce him to the other boys after this but he wouldn't tolerate Dusty at all, so he remained alone and miserable for a while. We started allowing him out to play with the girls in the evenings, and observed that he really enjoyed his social time with them. After a few weeks he was happily allowed into the girls cage without any squabbles or questions asked, where he still happily lives now. He keeps the girls libidos in check, but is otherwise a relaxed happy rattie.

Sadly, my poor little Iz-Whiz passed away recently (28th February 2005). He just wasn't himself; he kept trying to be on his own, didn't want any cuddles, and eventually stopped eating and drinking. The vet could find now cause for it so took him in to observe. He died in their care :(

The first time I set eyes on Noodle was the day the boys were given away. I hadn't even known she existed, and was very surprised to find that I would be keeping two girls rather than one. She, and all the boys had identical markings which I wish I'd photographed now. Noodle had taken her Mums caution completely to heart; she was the most nervous rattie I've ever known. It is her and Booboo that lead me to believe that rats temperament is rarely due to handling.

Noodle will jump at anything. She is very nervous about coming out of the cage; and will run back to the safety of the cage at the slightest movement. Her worst nightmare is having cage cleaned, as it means her safe haven is being destroyed. Amusingly she actually displays aggression at new rats when they're introduced to the group; showing that her fear is generally aimed at humans.

In her latter months Noodle has been learning to chill out. At first she showed me that she was courageous enough to talk to me through the bars of the cage. She knows that she has a special place in my heart, and she noticed that even though she was not out of the cage she was still given treats when everyone else out side the cage was receiving them. Gradually she has started to come out of the cage while we are in the room .. then approach us and run off with a treat .. til now she is happy to sit on my knee and eat a treat, though she still doesn't like to be touched or cuddled.

Noodle came into her own with the birth of Sophies babies; she made nests for herself, and kept going to peer in the cage at the babies .. I got the feeling that she would have liked to have a litter of her own, or acted as 'Auntie' to Sophies babies. When the babies were weaned, they were allowed to roam and play, but they proved too much for Noodle after all. She became worn out and tired, and following the death of Booboo, she too soon passed away.

I loved Booboo from the moment I set eyes on her. She was the only dark baby of Miriams. Beccie insisted that she took after her (after Beccie, not Miriam). When she was old enough to move around the cage, Booboo would peak out of the nest at me, and gradually come and peer out of the cage bars at me .. much to her Mums annoyance. Booboo then proved to be the bossiest little thing since .. ummm .. Hitler!! Her teeth were her favourite asset, which she would sink generously into my fingers if I tried to pick her up.

She's chilled out more with age. She no longer sinks her teeth into me at every opportunity, and I can pick her up quite happily. She's fairly affectionate and willing to endure any amount of cuddling so long as you continue the supply of treats flowing her way. We have an understanding!!

Booboo passed away at the ripe old age of two and a half years, in November 2004.