Those of you who have been following me for a while will know I keep rats.
Well, as of an hour or so ago I kept rats. Now I keep a rat.
Peaches, who has been ill for a good two-thirds of her life, has passed away. Sadly, I don't know how or why and I was convinced she was getting better. One minute she was running around my room, happy as Larry, and the next I was shouting for my mum as she coughed weakly in my arms. But I'm just glad I was there to pick her up, try to help her, then just give up and stroke and hold her until she was cold. I didn't want to let go of her. I've been holding her and trying to keep her safe and make her healthy for so long. The vet has stopped charging me, I was in there so often. I have tried everything; medicines, diets, seperation. She has been the most expensive rat I've ever owned, but I loved her more than most people agree that it's healthy to love a pet and I'm devastated that I couldn't save her. But I like to think I worked as hard as I could to give her the best, most enjoyable and fulfilling little life a rat could have. And I'm also glad that I was there, not away in London or somewhere else. I'm going to London next month and would have had to leave her, and was terrified of coming home to find her sicker, or worse. Now I can relax a bit, I suppose, and know that while I didn't want her to die, I'm glad she did in this way.
So RIP Peaches. You were the most adorable, friendly little rat, and I wish I could have made you better, and had more time with you.