Thisbe's been in to the vets today to have an abscess removed from her side. They phoned at 10.30 to say she'd had the op and had come round. I couldn't collect her until after work, around 3.30pm, when the nurse surprised me by calling Thisbe a lovely docile little girl. Thisbe? Docile?
Well when I got her home I realised what the nurse had meant. Thisbe really wasn't with it. I left her in the carrier for a couple of hours, but she was just sitting there. I managed to get a couple of spoons full of baby food into her, but couldn't get her to drink. She didn't seem to be dehydrated using the skin pinch test. I tried putting her in the cage with Sophie and Py to see if they would encourage her to eat anything, but it was getting on for eight before I finally got her to drink some water from a bowl.
She's a little better now, but not right. I need to be prepared for a vet trip first thing tomorrow if she's no better. Stop worrying me like this Tiz. You're not a year old yet! I can't lose you!
Oliver is now living on his own. He's been stressing out the two wheezy boys ever since he moved in with them. Not entirely his fault, but it came to a head this evening and I really couldn't leave him in there. What the heck am I going to do with him now?
Thisbe is fine
All better this morning. She met breakfast with her usual enthusiasm, thank goodness, and is back in the cage looking none the worse for it all. She's a very special little rat. I wouldn't want to lose her to a stupid abscess.
When I am an
old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which
doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my
pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin
sandals, and say we've no money for
butter.
I shall sit
down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up
samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my
stick along the public railings
And make up for the
sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out
in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in
other peoples' gardens
And learn to
spit.
You can wear
terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three
pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickles
for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats
and things in boxes.
But now we must
have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and
not swear in the street
And set a good example for
the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read
the papers.
But maybe I
ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me
are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am
old, and start to wear purple.
by Jenny Joseph
She's a little beggar. The two groups are now getting along really well, except for Pyramus and Rosie, and it's all down to her. She comes up behind him and gives him a little flurry of lady-punches. He gets all fluffed up, but doesn't fight her - he pings up in the air and tries to land on her. It looks so funny, like a bouncy beach ball. Of course, Rosie is long gone before he lands. Poor little boy was sheltering from her on my lap last night - "Keep her away from me, Mummy!". He really doesn't know how to handle her.
Py and the four girls are all in together! I put them in a neutral cage at around a quarter to eight. For the first hour or so there was some boxing and a couple of shreiking episodes, but now it's 11.15 now and they're mixing together with no trouble at all.
I followed the advice to put them in a cage which neither group had been living in, without any huts or tubes to cause territory battles.
About time really. It's taken me four weeks to get them living together.
Now I just need to sort Oliver out. I have four baby boys booked - the beginning of my breeding plans. Oliver can live with them if he behaves. I won't have them until next month though.
Oops, three weeks since last blog.
I've got a pair of new boys, Bramble and Sparky. They're getting on well with Otis, Babbage and Brunel. Oliver isn't into being friends with them.
Rosie has started biting me, and the other rats. Wondering if it's cyclical or just mood dependant.
Went to Jim and Cass's party & Alton Towers. Great weekend. Slept 10 hours Sunday night.
That's about it, really.
I've done really well this weekend. I picked up a Freddy 2 cage that I won on eBay two weeks ago for just £5! (We waited this long because we were going that way anyway.) I didn't really need it, but it was too good to miss. I thought it was corroded at first, but running a nail along the bars it's just covered in greasy pet goo. I think it's been stood where the lady's dogs were brushing past it all the time. Stick it in the bath and hose it down!
AND
I was given a 3 piece suite for nothing by a work colleague who was moving house in a hurry. It's so much nicer than the one we had, but unfortunately it was covered in cat hairs. I vacuumed it before we brought it in, and washed the soft covers, so now it just smells of damp cat. It's setting off my cat allergy something rotten, lol, I have constantly itchy eyes and have had to up my daily inhaler dose. I imagine it will fade in time. I hope.
The evening we got the suite, only one group of rats would come out to play. Chester and Pickle are rehomes, so I assume they have smelt cat before. I dragged out the babies and they wouldn't come out of the tubes in the playpen, so when the girls refused as well I gave up. They all seemed OK the next night though.
We went to Essex for a silver wedding anniversary party on Saturday. A lot of driving, but a good meal and nice to see everyone again, and of course the opportunity to pick up my new cage. Heh heh. We drove through Newmarket on the way to pick up the cage. Some serious money over there! Saw some beautiful racehorses crossing the road. Mark was much amused that some of the hedgerows were cut into steeplechase jump shape. I drove and Mark navigated. We got lost. Very lost. Hah! Now he knows that navigating's not as easy as it sounds!
Last modified: Friday, 09-Nov-2007 19:18:27 GMT
