Hans is aging

My dear rat Hans is showing his age. I got him about a year and a half ago from the humane society, and when I got him they estimated him at one and a half years. So he must be about three years old, possibly older.

This is considered elderly for a rat. I noticed how his hair was a little coarser, he was more content just to rest instead of constantly moving around, and his spine protruded more than it used to.

But in just the last two weeks, he really seems lethargic and unkempt. Rats normally groom themselves fastidiously, but Hans is a little smellier and a little coarser all the time. He sometimes blinks one eye at a time, absurdly. He even limps somewhat, making me think he chewed one of his hindlimb nails too hard. He hasn’t fully swept away from his eyes the porphyrin discharge that his little rat nostrils produce. When eating peanut butter or bread, he extends and retracts his neck rhythmically, using all kinds of accessory muscles to swallow the food. This is normal, but for him the process of pushing down the bolus of food is drawn out to the point where it looks like he might choke.

Ultimately I think Hans has only a few weeks left. A rodent’s life is so short. I once watched a nature documentary in which a scientist professed his love and fascination with rodents. He said they were like humans, only sped up in every way.

I had a professor who mentioned a cross-species observation about heart rate and lifespan. Apparently mammals with a rapid heart rate such as mice live short lives, while mammals such as elephants with a slow heart rate live for much longer. The observation was that the total number of heart beats in the lifespan is relatively constant, no matter what the mammal.

Of course this is not a very scientific statement, much like the often-repeated bromide that "no two snowflakes are alike." It has the scent of truth, and is easy to repeat, but has never been proven convincingly.

But in Hans’ case the "heartbeat rule" is true enough. When I first got him I thought he would never calm down. He was the most athletic of all my rats. He seemed thicker and more muscular. More independent than my previous rat, Carl, who was so cuddly and sedate. Hans was way too adept at stealing my food. And he had serious claws.

And now in sad contrast to those first impressions I watch his bobbing head and his excessive eye crud and his fast, fast heartbeat and I wish he had more time. I wish I knew what his backstory was. At the humane society the volunteer told me that Hans was found in an apartment that had been vacated by the human owner and that the rat was just sitting there in the cage waiting to be rescued. I named him Hans because he is blond like Nordic people and because I think a lot about my fictional Hans Castorp a lot. I wish I knew more about his story.

I wish I had more time.

I knew Hans would not last forever. He is not a living toy. I am okay with that and have initiated rat hospice. For the past two weeks and onward he gets as much peanut butter as he wants. When he is out he gets to just sleep in my shirt as much as he wants. I am very gently with him. And I am making sure his water bottle is very accessible for him, as I don’t think he can devote much effort to milking the thing.

Soon I will come home and find he has assumed room temperature. He will get a decent burial. Or maybe I will make a liquor decanter out of him, I haven’t decided yet.