Peekaboo!

Newton, June 2000-26 January 2002

Few new ratties were brought home with less of a welcome than Newton and Einstein. They were just babies, and Dave and I adopted them only because they were on death row at the shelter, but we really didn't want more ratties. We had our two beloved girls, one of whom was terminally ill with myco, and had hardly any time with us left. Each night, we spent our perfunctory hour with them, and we thought that they were cute enough, but they were just so *scrawny* and *roachy*.

However, as time passed, we of course grew to love them as much as we ever loved our girls. Newton and Einstein each grew into their own. They were the sweetest witto men ever; the only creature that they were ever harsh to was Bunn. Go figure. They grew plump and shiny and healthy, and were a joy not just to hold and hug and schmoogle and play with, but even just to be in the same room with.

Newton was something of a ratty delinquent and enjoyed going off and hiding in some ridiculously unlikely place, like the windowsill or hanging in the wires behind the television. Then he wouldn't come out for love or yogies. I would rattle that box and call him until I would be sick with panic, then I'd spot him and begin yelling and crying at him at the same time. He'd look at me as if to say, "Um... did you wish to communicate something? And I heard that yogie box rattle--is there a yogie in this somewhere?"

When Quark came home, he and Einstein used to get into some nasty altercations, but Newton would always waddle over and distract his brother, so Quark would have some peace. He did this continuously, not just once or twice, until Quark was fully integrated and became a friend to them both.

I miss my little New-ton the two-ton. Last night at dinner, Kerry and Dave and I were having a perfectly ordinary conversation that had nothing to do with rats, and for some reason I suddenly felt nauseous and broke down crying. I kept saying, "I want him back! I want him back!" I can't believe that I am so helpless. All my life, I determined that whatever I wanted, if I worked hard enough, I could do it. I could get my bachelor's with a minor degree in a totally unrelated subject in four years, even while working part-time. I could run a marathon. I could go back to school for my master's while working full-time. I could finish projects on ridiculous timelines. The world was my oyster. But there was nothing, nothing, NOTHING I could do to make my baby better again. And I would have been willing to walk on hot coals strewn with broken glass. I just don't understand. How is it possible that something that seems so small is so beyond my power?

Sorry this isn't a very good eulogy. I guess I'm not just sad but also angry, and baffled, that Newton had to die. I never knew I loved him so much. He's with Quark and Euler and Noulli now. Sigh. I can't think of an eloquent way to end this post so I'll just end it here.

Einstein, June 2000-26 January 2003

'Tein-um left us from his daddy's arms, when suddenly he shuddered, and his body gave up his spirit. We left it on the couch, and in the morning, the eyes were closed, the face wearing an expression of perfect peace.

My sweet, sweet boy. I'm so glad you left on your own terms. I'm not sorry now that we tried to keep you for as long as we could. It was fully for our own selfish reasons, as I couldn't give up the feel of your warm, squidgy little body on my tummy each night, but you weren't in pain, so I hope you'll forgive my greediness in wanting to hold on.

Gradually, all of the criteria that we had established were met, but we still held on. He stopped grooming himself, and so I sponged him down with warm water and lavender oil. He stopped being able to walk, so I carried him around in my arms. Finally, he stopped eating, and we knew the time had come. I still caved in briefly and force-fed him a couple times, but in the end we knew it was time. We planned to bring him to the vet today, but he decided to leave first. On his own terms, in his daddy's arms.

'Tein-um, my best bud.

Einstein is Batrat!

"Nooo! Mamaaaa! Don't kiss me! You've got nasty human cooties!"

*Sigh* "Mama, why did you have to do that?"

'Tein-um's Retirement

Farewell, friends! Yet not farewell;
Where I am, ye, too, shall dwell.
I am gone before your face,
A moment's time, a little space.
When ye come where I have stepped
Ye will wonder why ye wept;

--After Death in Arabia

By Edwin Arnold

'Tein-um and Two-Ton as babies, their first week home

Return to Main Page