The Pet Pundit: Endings and beginnings

By Jessie Darkis

Posted on Thursday, November 19th, 2009, 1:19 am

It’s often hard to keep in mind how terribly difficult and heart-wrenching certain situations are until facing them head on. One of those things is losing something you love — in this case, a pet.

Socrates was a large, pink-eyed white rat I purchased from a pet store last January. I had kept him for nearly a year, thinking he was fine by himself. He functioned normally and appeared healthy. He was friendly and eager to be held and petted. The following summer, I found out I was wrong.

I contacted Robin Rushlau at Mainely Rat Rescue — an organization that saves unwanted and often misunderstood pet rats — and she suggested a major diet overhaul for Socrates. She said to avoid store-bought food, which is nutritionally incomplete and can cause health problems. She also recommended I neuter him, so that he could live with the two females I was going to adopt.

Socrates drastically changed. He put on weight, his coat became shinier and fuller, and he became much more active. When finally introduced to his new lady friends, I was able to see how imperative it is for rats to have cage mates. Socrates was a big squishy bean bag to the new girls. They would pig-pile on top of him as he slept, and he’d happily close his little eyes as they excitedly groomed him and stomped all over him.

When I adopted another rat from MRR late last summer, he was the mediator when the females were introduced to one another. Two of my females, Maria and Rosa, proved to be extremely dominant, and the new female Cynthia wasn’t much better. When they started in with their typical rat “boxing” — where they sit on their hind legs and push, grab and paw at each other — Socrates stepped in. He ran up to them, sat on his hind legs and simply put his paw out in between them, as if to say, “Enough!” When all four rats were put back into their cage, Cynthia ran to hide behind Socrates while he slept.

It wasn’t unusual to find the two of them cuddled up in a hammock or sleeping in their little plastic hut. He was a friend to everyone. As soon as you called his name or made a kissing sound, he would eagerly come running to the front of the cage to greet you. Socrates spoke with his silence.

Last Sunday, I opened up the cage to check on the rats. In the little plastic house laid Socrates’ lifeless body and Cynthia, with one tiny paw resting on his face.

I had never expected losing him to be hard. Losing any animal, big or small, is always difficult and emotional. This time it just felt different. Not only did I lose a part of life as I knew it, so did his three friends.

My boyfriend mentioned to me that day that now I had room for another rat. Well, I did have room — I technically had room for several more, but I was so upset I told him I didn’t need more rats.

Less than 24 hours later, I broke down and had two more rats reserved to adopt through MRR. There are always animals that need homes. I had the room and the funding to give two more a happy life. I decided to do just that.

One of my professors had a similar experience. Melissa Spencer, head of the equine program at the University of Maine, adopted her horse Muffin in 1983 when she was 12 years old. Muffin was 5 years old and a retired Standardbred pacer. It is a fairly common misconception that a retired Standardbred is worth little. Spencer made it clear this is not the truth.

Muffin was awarded a silver medal by the Maine Dressage Association in 1992 and was pinned National Champion several times in the Standardbred Pleasure Horse Organization. Before Spencer met her husband or had her children, she had Muffin. Spencer and Muffin were a part of each other’s lives for 26 years.

Spencer had to put Muffin down about a year ago.

Losing an animal is losing part of your life. What we never lose is what we learn from them. Although sometimes the pain is overwhelming, if we close our hearts and doors, we’ll never know what others are waiting to touch our lives.

“A pet is never truly forgotten until it is no longer remembered.” — Lacie Petitto

If you have any pet- or animal-related questions you would like to see discussed in this column, please feel free to contact the writer at jessie.darkis@umit.maine.edu.