Sadly Carl is showing more and more signs of his age. When I got him a year and two months ago the Humane Society told me he was 2.1 years old, making him more than three now, which is pretty elderly for a rat. He has coarser, less well-groomed hair. He moves more slowly and bobs his head weakly. He pulls himself along with his forelegs instead of pushing with his hind ones. He does not eat hard foods as easily. He falls off the countertop, something he had only done once or twice before. And now instead of scrambling to get back up he just lays there, looking dazed. He has lost weight, looking more bony. And he paces around restlessly as if deaf instead of just finding a place to curl up and sit still. And in an ominous sign, I got a whiff of his urine and realized it smelled highly concentrated, like that of a hamster. Apparently he is either not drinking enough or his kidneys are not functioning well, or both.
I think he is in a terminal decline. In his last few weeks of life I am giving him all the peanut butter he wants. I am making sure he has easy access and opportunities to have water through his bottle, a dish, and in watery foods I give him. I am not letting him fall off the countertop. I scratch him behind his scruffy neck even though he won’t sit still much. He deserves the best rat hospice possible.
Carl is definitely the most affectionate rat I have had. Kurt was the biggest perv. And my new rat Hans is the most active. I am waiting until he is a little less jumpy for Hans to make his public debut.
pseudoisaac 