Tag: clover

2369: Farewell to Clover, Last of the Rats

Hi Clover. You left us today, and that made me very sad. I’m sure it made you sad, too, but we both knew that it was time for you to go. I actually thought you were going to leave us yesterday, as you looked tired and miserable, but you hung on until today, because you’d always been a stubborn little thing. I’d like to think you clung on to life for a bit longer because you didn’t want to leave us, either — as the last of our rats, you’d be leaving us alone — but I guess I’ll never know how you really felt.

I can tell you how we felt, though, and how I felt. We loved you very much, and you will be sorely missed. Night-time won’t be the same without the sound of you scuffling around in your cage in the dark and eating things in the crunchiest way possible while we’re trying to sleep. And I’ll miss the way you’d always come up to the door of the cage when we came to see you — not just because we’d usually give you a treat, but because you liked our company, too.

I won’t speak for Andie, as I’m sure she has her own things she wants to say to you in private, but I’ll tell you how I felt. I’ll tell you a secret, in fact; out of the five rats we’ve had over the last few years, I loved each and every one of you to absolute pieces, but you were — don’t tell the others — my favourite. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you in the pet shop. You were patterned a bit like your predecessor Lara, who had passed away and left her cagemate Lucy all alone, but you had an adorable scruffiness to your fur; I could never quite tell if you were actually scruffy or if it was just that you had slightly longer, fluffier fur than other rats.

Whatever the reason, I knew I wanted you to be our friend, along with your friend Socks, whose own unique adorable feature was the fact her shiny grey-brown coat had an enticingly fluffy white bit on her belly. And while, like all rats, it took you a while to get out of that initial stage of seeming absolute terror at everything, you quickly became friendly, getting on well both with us and with Lucy, by now an old lady rat who had clearly been pining for some company ever since Lara left us.

Out of you and Socks, I could never quite tell if you were “the smart one” or not. Socks always seemed to get up to more mischief than you, but I’m pretty sure you did your own scheming on the sly when we weren’t looking. You certainly knew how to give us an irresistible, pleading look that would almost always result in you getting a treat of some description, but I like to think you thought of others too. You were always there for me when I needed you, and when I wanted to talk — when things were going badly, when I felt all alone, or when it was the middle of the night and I just couldn’t get to sleep — you’d always come and listen, never judging, never answering back (and, I choose to believe, not just because you couldn’t) and always making me feel better.

I’m sorry life became such hard work for you towards the end, but I’m grateful that you hung on for us as long as you did. You were well over two and a half years old when you left us, which is super-old in rat terms, and I’d like to think that you stuck around as long as you did, despite your declining health, because you knew how much you were loved, both by Andie and by me.

I’ll miss you, Clover, just as I miss Socks, Lucy, Lara and Willow every day. I love you all very much and I hope that wherever you go after you leave us, you have a happy time, free of fear and adversity, full of treats and bursting with eternal joy.

Goodbye, Clover. And thank you for being such a special part of my life. I’ll never forget you.

2120: Farewell to Socks

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Hello, Socks.

You can’t read this, because you can’t read. And because you’re a rat. And because, saddest of all, we lost you today after your battle with illness. But I wanted to write this for you anyway. Perhaps someone wherever you’ve gone has my site bookmarked and can read you this post, or perhaps they can just feed you bits of poppadom as you try and figure out, once and for all, whether or not it’s possible to get to the top of the wheel.

We brought you into our lives to keep Lucy company. Lucy was older than you, but she was very lonely after her friend Lara passed away peacefully, so we decided to get her some friends. That was you and Clover. You were both so tiny, but both of you captured our hearts right away; you because of your sleek, grey-brown coat, and Clover because of her endearingly scrappy-looking, extra-fluffy fur. We brought you home, and while we were worried about how Lucy would react to some unfamiliar new friends, as elderly as she was getting, it wasn’t long before our minds were at rest and she was fussing over the pair of you. Where Lara had once been the one to fuss over Lucy — who always seemed “younger” than Lara, despite being a similar age — now Lucy was the one fussing over the pair of you.

You were both very jumpy when we were first getting to know you. You seemed to feel safer when Lucy was around, though; the three of you would even come and wander around on the bed if we let you. Clover built up a bit more confidence than you; you were always the scaredy-rat, starting at any noises slightly louder than “silent” and being a bit more hesitant to come and be sociable.

You came around, though, partly with a bit of help from the treats we liked to spoil you with, and both you and Clover started to take on your own distinct personalities — and we grew to love you both as much as we loved Lara and Lucy (and, for the short period we knew her, Willow). Clover was more adventurous and sociable, and quite possibly — forgive me — the brighter of the two of you, though both of you quickly came to recognise things like the sound of a treat bag being rustled, or a piece of lettuce being pushed through the bars of the cage for you to find and enjoy.

You were the active one, though; you loved running on the wheel, even when you were a little bit too big for it and its curvature made you have to bend at some funny angles while you were running. You’re a rat, though, and thus made of rubber, so it never seemed to be much of an issue for you. It’s because you were so active and energetic that it was so sad to see your decline, though; we’d become accustomed to you charging around the cage, climbing into every nook and cranny just to see if there was anything interesting there today. To see you suffering with a wheeze that made it look painful to breathe, let alone eat or do anything more strenuous than move a few feet around every half an hour, was heartbreaking. We really felt for you, and we know that you didn’t like it when we grabbed you and gave you medicine, but I think you knew that it was for the best; the last time I gave you some, you barely struggled at all, and it all went in your mouth rather than over our bedsheets and clothes.

We hope you know that we loved you very much, and that we were very sad to see you suffering. We didn’t want to have to say goodbye to you, and we did everything we could to try and make you better, but every night before I went to sleep I worried — or perhaps hoped? — that I’d wake up in the morning and you’d have found some peaceful rest with no more suffering. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you turned out to be a stubborn little fighter, though; even though there wasn’t much you could do towards the end, you kept on hanging in there, having a little nibble at some food when you could, indulging in your favourite pastime of draping yourself over Clover’s sleeping figure when you just wanted to warm up a bit, propping yourself up against the side of the cage to help yourself breathe a little easier.

Clover loved you very much, too. The two of you were very much a pair, and it’s hard to contemplate a future where Clover’s by herself without you by her side. But that’s what we’re facing now. We will miss you very much, and Clover will too; she’s been very tired for a few days, because it’s plain to see that she’s been fussing over you and wishing she could do more to take care of you, just like we were. I hope she understands that it was time to say goodbye, and that wherever you are now, you’re happier and more comfortable than you would have been wheezing in that cage. One day you’ll be reunited; we hope it won’t be too soon, because we love Clover a great deal, too — and, because, God’s honest truth, it was impossible to pick a “favourite” out of the two of you — but when that time comes, I like to think that you’ll be together again, free to do as you please, like munching your way through a massive poppadom without any sort of consequences.

We love you, Socks, and though you can’t see the tears we’ve shed today — and doubtless will continue to shed for a little while yet — we hope you know how much you meant to us. You were part of our lives for far too short a time, but in that time you were part of our family.

We’ll miss you. Sleep well.