It's been an eventful week. One of the rats ended up in the rodent version of intensive care on Wednesday. She was looking very poorly so we took her to the vet, who suggested overnight hospitalisation. Then it was the inevitable roller-coaster ride of emotion: would she make it through the night? (yes!) Would she recover fully from whatever was wrong with her by after school time? (no!) Would she be so ill that, despite expensive medical intervention we would still have to give her the lethal injection? (yes!) Would we have been better leaving her in her cage to die quietly (and cheaply) overnight? (quite probably).
So now Rattus Rattus (for that was her name) is buried in a cardboard coffin near the flowering something-or-other (gardening not my strong point), surrounded by some Everyday Value fruit 'n' nut mix to see her on her journey to the afterlife. I have also placed a large potted rose bush over the top of the grave, just so Son doesn't wake up to the aftermath of some frenzied grave-digging fox's carrion feast one morning.
Luckily the vet took pity on us and only charged half price on the rodent intensive care/euthenasia combo (a cynical person might think that this is because he'd already made a fortune on us out of undead Dog's longevity), but I'm still too embarrassed to 'fess up to you how much it actually was.
I think we should just stick to Barbie dolls and imaginary friends in this family as we are clearly not to be trusted with anything with a heart beat.
Cheerio xx