Jingles

Jingles passed away this morning.

Round midnight I checked on him. I turned and starting walking away when something made me stop. I wanted to hold him again in case it was the last time. Odd bits of intuition are not new to me, though they're not true intuition. Bit o intuition jelly without the stuffing, that's the pieces I usually get, but this time it didn't let me down.

Checked on him again round 4 AM and he was still breathing.

When I got up at eight thirty he was already cold and stiff.

Turns out that WAS the last time I got to hold the precious boy.

He was a righteous old dude and he fough the good fight, and I'm glad he doesn't have to struggle any more. He deserves to breathe without having to work at it, and run around on all four good feet again.

You can read about Fandango here.

Jingles and his brother, Sam, who passed away a short while ago, were my first two rats in adulthood. It feels like the end of an era. Four wonderful fuzzbutts are left in the cage Sam and Dango used to live in, and another cage is home to two more. Sometimes it almost feels like they're all fosters, though they've never felt that way before. It's just not REAL without Sam and Dango. They've been here since the begining.

We will just have to pick up the pieces and take awhile to get used to this new picture the puzzle, its pieces changed, removed, and added, forms.

I do, by the way, have some of the cutest damn rats ever.