RIP Muffin and Flake

I've had a double whammy of sadness this week: both our rats, Muffin and Flake, pictured above climbing the Christmas tree last year, had to be put to sleep.

A couple of months ago, Muffin had two massive cancerous tumours removed. She seemed to have recovered and most of her fur had grown back. But then she lost the ability to hold her food and developed a head tilt. The cancer had spread to her brain.

At the same time, Flake lost half her body weight. She changed from being obese - she really was enormously fat - to a skinny little lightweight in a couple of weeks. And she was barely able to breathe. It was a tumour in her lungs.

I took them to the vets last night knowing they were both ill but expecting the vet to prescribe a dose of Baytril, the medicine they always give rats. But she said they both needed to be put down. It was awful. I watched the vet inject them, then stood there blubbing while they both lay down together and went to sleep...forever. I wish I'd asked the vet to do it in the back room because I can't get the images out of my head.

This morning, Sara and I buried them in the garden and cried together. Then I threw out all their stuff because the sight of it was making me feel worse.

I'm a complete wuss when it comes to pets. And now we don't have any. We're not going to get any more rats - not until Poppy starts asking for pets, anyway. Or, when we get our own place, we're going to get a couple of cats.

RIP Muffin and Flake. You were a pair of troublesome, pesky, incredibly expensive pests - but we loved you lots.