Goodbye Miss Stella

This past Thursday morning, it finally happened. We had known it was imminent. For a while now, C and I had been talking days, but the days had gone into two weeks, and we had hoped, just a little bit. But we still knew. And so every morning, I still checked.

This past Thursday morning, I found Stella, one of Pop Tart’s rats, dead in her cage. I had been checking every morning, for the last few weeks, before Pop Tart woke up, specifically for this purpose, so that I would be the one to find her, to remove her from the cage. Because Pop Tart was going to take this hard enough. She has been through so much loss in her life. She did not need to be the one to find the cold body. She just did not.

Stella was a good rat. She was sweet and gentle, and liked to hide in your hair. When taken out of her cage, she wanted to walk up your arm to your shoulder and then nestle at the base of your neck. Stitch, our other rat, was all about exploring and escaping and seeing what was “over there”, but not Stella. Stella wanted to cuddle.

We knew from the very beginning (about a year and a half ago) that we would likely lose Stella first. She was part hairless, and came to us, even at only a month old, with some health problems. Pop Tart worried about her going blind, but it was not the blindness that we noticed. It was the sudden loss of weight. She still ate, but she became so skinny. Those last few weeks, she got peanut butter, as a high calorie, high fat, treat, to help keep her going just a little longer.

We had hoped she would make it until Spring Break (this week), but knew it might not be the case. And C and I had the discussion, weeks ago, that if I found Stella dead on my morning check, Pop Tart would not be required to go to school that day.

She actually did really well for most of Thursday. But Thursday evening, as we buried Stella in the front yard, there was the break down, the insistence that she should sleep in the front yard to keep Stella company, the concern that Stella would be cold and lonely.

We let her mourn. We mourned, too. Stella was Pop Tart’s rat, but she was also a family pet. It hurts whenever any of them leave us. C and I are not religious people, but we will defend the idea of heaven for animals until the end.

The three of us sat on the lawn. We all cried. We talked about love and loss. And we talked about still living. Because while Stella has left us, Stitch remains. And for her entire life, she has had a rat friend and companion, and now she does not. So we need to handle her more, give her more time and companionship.

Pop Tart asked if I thought Stitch would notice Stella was gone. I told her that yes, she would. She may not mourn exactly like we do, but she would notice. She would notice not having another fuzzy body to cuddle up with at night. She would notice not having a friend to play with. She would notice being alone. It is not the same, but it is something.

We are doing pretty well. Pop Tart was back at school on Friday, the last day before Spring Break. And she is doing well this week. She is remembering, at least for the moment, to do a little more handling of Stitch. But I have already started to research where we would find another rat. I do not want a baby. I want one roughly the same age as Stitch. But Stitch is very healthy, and it is quite likely she will live another year or more, so I think she needs a companion.

Now, I just have to figure out how to have that conversation with Pop Tart.