Rizzo

This is Rizzo the day after she came home from the Humane Society. She had no trouble adapting to a new place and instantly displayed the characteristic rat curiosity.

She was also, bless her, instantly a source of stress. The first week I had her and Krycek, I found blood in the cage and had to separate them to discover who was doing the bleeding. Being a dumb new rat owner, I put Riz in a cat carrier made of plastic for the night. The next morning she came out to greet me though the perfectly round Rizzo-sized hole she'd chewed in the plastic. Another night I found her in the cage retching. Panicked because rats can't vomit, I did a frantic Internet search with her symptoms and discovered that she was apparently choking. The first aid, if a choking rat stops breathing, is something called "the rattie fling." I stayed up all night with her; mercifully she kept breathing until eventually dislodging the food herself sometime in the wee hours of the next day and I never had to try the fling thing. And in this picture, October 2001, she's recovering from an abcess.

A few pretty pictures of my girl when she wasn't causing trouble.

As soon as the cage door opened, she was on the run.

Here she's recovering from a tumor removal. The day she had her surgery, Krycek had been scheduled to have a lump taken off her shoulder. Krycek's lump had been growing slowly for about five or six days. Rizzo's showed up literally overnight, bumping Krycek to the next day. Then the day after that, Rizzo pulled out all her stitches and had to go back to the vet to be sewn up again. Not that we don't like our vet, but I hate seeing him every day of the week.

Rizzo's favorite sleep spot. When her nest ball got so torn up that I had to replace it, I had to transfer the nasty smelly newspaper from the old ball to the new one or she wouldn't go in it. She once chewed into a trash bag and dragged an old nest ball back out.

Krycek and Rizzo fought so much they had to be in separate cages, but Rizzo loved to jump over and visit. She had a great horizontal leap.

By late summer of 2002, she was starting to get lumpy again. Because of her presumed advanced age (estimated at 12 to 18 months when we adopted her in August 2001) and her absolute hatred of Baytril and stitches, the vet and I decided not to do more surgery. She was pretty much oblivious of the lump until close to the end.

An extra nest outside the cage. She also stashed lab blocks and peanuts throughout the room. She was very good about not chewing furniture or power cords, though, so when I was in the room she had lots of free range time.

She used some of that freedom to bug Krycek.

I gave her a roll of toilet paper just to see what she'd do with it.

Washing up before she eats her cheese wedge.

If I was sitting around in my stocking feet, she wrestle with my foot. Cute until she bit a toe...

As she got lumpier I got more liberal with the treats, including mini Oreos...

...and as many Yogies as she wanted.

A visit with Santa for Christmas 2002.

In her last few weeks, she slowed down considerably.

She did not, however, stop altogether. The lump really did start getting in her way, and it started to fill with blood. (The soda can is empty, by the way. She never drank anything but water and milk...and pina colada mix to hide the Baytril when she needed antibiotics.)

Her last night. Her eating slowed way down early in December when Krycek died, picked up somewhat for a couple of weeks, then went down again. She hardly touched lab blocks and her mix, but would still take treats, including sushi.

We took her to the vet in her nest ball. Her back legs were giving out, she had some bleeding from her largest lump, and she could no longer get in and out of her cage unassisted. I was resisting putting her to sleep; obviously that's never something you want to do. Two nights before, though, she had curled up in my lap and chattered and licked my hand for a long time...a big behavior change for the wandering adventure girl who hated being held. I've heard people say that you know when it's time, and I knew.

Rest in peace.
18 January 2003