Squeeek has been a very old and ill rat for a while now. For the last
few weeks, he's basically spent all his time in his igloo. Last night
arkady took both rats out to cuddle them and noticed a large horrible
abscess that was bleeding and smelling awful. So I took him to the vet
today, who confirmed that there was a huge tumour under it. Squeeek has
been very unwell, so I called
redcountess and we agreed it was
time for him to go. I brought him home, put him in the cage for
Spike to sniff and we'll bury him tomorrow afternoon.
So I'd like you all to raise a finger with a drop of beer on it for Squeeek.
Spike is fine. Clearly an old man — a bit shaky on your shoulder, back legs don't work too well — but very perky. Liz is currently cuddling him. I suspect he'll be spending his last months being utterly spoilt.
(oh dear Lord, forgive me. I just looked up how to do a <marquee> tag. Yes, I know I'll burn in purgatory for at least a few billion years, being prodded with pitchforks by Jakob Nielsen.)


