PJ Evans

So, I posted a few weeks ago about two new guys that were coming to join my mischief. Ticker, a black English/Irish (perfect heart on his chest), and Splash, a mink veriberk (?) with a kink in his tail. Well, they're here now, making themselves to home, and ruling the roost. We did QT, and have started intro's which are going swimmingly.
( More, )

My mischief has gone from 7 to 4, with two not doing too well. My oldest boy, Feet, is seriously showing his age. He'll be 3 in November. He's got serious hind end degeneration, his legs are crossed so severely that it looks like his right is his left and visa verse. However, he's still majorly cuddly, eats, drinks, grooms, bruxes and boggles. He's all by himself in a smaller single level cage that sits next to my bed, and he sleeps draped across my neck at night (until he tells me it's time to go empty himself - very considerate of him).

Recon has a huge tumor on his side. I'm not all that surprised, he's a pet store baby. But the tumor does not appear to be causing him any discomfort, and he acts like his old self, except he's more accepting of lovins. He's always been skittish.

So, realistically, I'm looking at losing two more boys. Hopefully, not for a while, but they'll let me know when they're ready to go. In the mean time I thought it was time to go in search of the next generation.

These two boys were born August 26th, and they're going to be coming home with me in two more weeks. In the mean time, since their mama belongs to a friend of mine (serendipitous oops litter), I get to spend as much time as I want with them. They're already kissy and learning my voice! I'm so excited.

The black English Irish boy is named Ticker (in reference to his perfect heart marking). The mink berk has no name yet, but he'll probably get one that refers to the kink in his tail. He's my husband's baby, so hubby gets to pick the name.

( Read more... )

starsforophelia came over and we had a marathon hammock making session. The next day, I cleaned the cage and put in some new stuff (she'd found some nifty John Deere fabrics for my boys). I stuffed four of the boys in the large cube, and recorded my thanks.
( Gotta have a cut . . . )

So, I posted a while ago that I was getting new baby ratties. They arrived last night, and I thought I'd share my joy.
( Piccies!! )

I'm just so excited!!! I'm getting two adorable little blue dumbo boys from the Heart of Texas Rattery in Austin in a couple of weeks. Needed to brag share ^__^

(x-posted to Ratties)
( Dial Up Warning )

OK, it's now Saturday, and I'm still irritated at myself for being airheaded and clumsy on Wednesday night. Please feel free to ignore this post, I'm venting.

( Or read on . . . )

So, I'm wandering around a second hand shop one day with my friend Melanie, and we spot this adorable model antique school desk. Just a smidge big for rats, but WTF. We set up a photo shoot with my calmest boy, Scout, and have some fun. Melanie is a whiz when it comes to photoshop and this is what she came up with . . .

( No Animal Testing )

I usually don't remember my dreams, and if I do, only bits and snatches. Well the bit that I remember from last nights dream was highly odd. . . and full of ratties.

( Yeah, I used a cut )

So the other day I reach in to get the rats food dish so I can wash it and refill it for dinner. Scout decides that he REALLY wants to ride and watch the prep, so up to the shoulder he runs. Now, he's the only one of the four that thinks the top of the cage is a great place to explore, so I didn't bother closing the door. The cats won't jump in, the rats won't jump out, and it saves me a step in the dinner ritual. Scout and I go to get dinner.

Upon return with foodies, I see Thalia (girl cat) sitting at the base of the cage, looking up at the door. Just looking, not perked up at all, no hunting mode, just curiosity.

This is how I found the other three boys:



Yup, three big adult bucks in a tiny grass ball. You can barely see poor Recon, just his bottom jaw as his head's smoodged up.

They all scurried out as soon as they knew food was happening, but I laughed real hard at their antics - all trying to untangle and get down at the same time.

Love me some silly rattums!!

OK, not really a big one, but a couple. I took some random shots, then I tried to get good pix of the boys sitting at this small "antique school desk" thing that I picked up at the resale shop. Those turned out OK, but they'll be better when my friend Melanie is here to help with wrangling ;)

( Prep for cute! )

OK, here's a peeve: In all these community sites, like MySpace, LiveJournal, etc., when you fill in your profile there's a section on "who I'd like to meet". That's just dandy, but what about the other end of the spectrum? How about "who I'd like to shoot" or "who I'd like to see boiling in a vat of llama ejaculate" or "I'd like the rapture to come early for . . . " or merely "who I'd like to spit on"?

( OMG, she used a cut in her journal!! )

OK, I Can Has Cheeseburger has this contest going - macro a pic of a cat or something playing with cards, poker chips, whatever and "he who gets the most votes gets a trip".

So, please to be voting for me! (Click on the image, then rate it with cheeseburgers)



More on the online Poker Cats Contest

Oh, and no fair competing if you heard about this first from here! :P

OK, seems I started typing in an entry a while ago, and never finished it:

Well, my friend, Lanyce (Pocket Angels Rescue), came over and brought me some Revolution to spray on the boys backs.

OMG!! The difference!!

I'm thinking that the mites are dead or dying, since there is not so much scratching going on, and Recon! He's like a different rat! He's happier, more playful, and a lot more cuddly. It's amazing! :) Just a few drops of this stuff between their shoulder blades, hold 'em till they dry, and I have a miracle ratty.

I'm so grateful :D

So, you may remember, my poor Recon has been scab boy. I was convinced that the others were picking on him to an extreme and he was just wounded silly.

*sigh*

My friend Melanie came over yesterday to wish me happy birthday and drop off presents, and she took a look at Recon while she was here. She's had rats a LOT longer than I have, and she's the one I turn to for advice when I can't figure things out for myself. She told me it's not fighting, it's MITES.

*grumble*

Now I gotta dose a poor rat that is JUST starting to come out of his shell and get cuddly. Luckily, the other guys are not showing signs of infestation, but they're gonna get dosed too, just to be safe.

Poor baby Recon. He's had such bad luck in his short life. (Knock wood) I hope after this he's a healthy boy for the rest of his life so he can relax and become the cuddle squish I know he wants to be.

Well, took the smallest of the squirmers to the vet yesterday and got his staples removed. He is SUCH a happy boy. Got home, handed him to Steve for a little cuddle time while I got some things done, then took him back to the cage. Decided the cage really needed cleaning (I was sick for the last several days, so had missed the regular Sunday chore), and went at it.

I cleaned the bottom, where Radar has been living alone, first. As soon as I lowered the ramp, the other three boys ran down and started playing with Radar, and with all their toys that they'd been cut off from for two weeks. Cleaned out the top section, put in new hammocks that I'd sewn recently, refilled the food bowls and went my merry way, with all four boys playing in the bottom happily.

Come back later for regularly scheduled treat distribution, and find that the older three are in their usual spaces up top (each in their own hammock), but Radar is still in the bottom, looking really lonely. I'm thinking that he didn't know he was allowed to go up! I reached under, picked him up and put him on the top half shelf with the other boys and he started grooming any part of any other rat he could get his tongue on! It was the funniest thing.

So, today all four boys spent almost the WHOLE day in one big rat pile on the half shelf. They are so happy to be back together!

Not a lot has been going on in the big cage of late. Recon, poor baby, is healing up a bit now that Radar is isolated. Radar is pretty much healed but the vet won't take the staples out yet, and so he stays locked by himself in the bottom of the cage because I don't trust the others not to try to chew the staples off. No worries on him getting lonely though - he gets LOTS of out time with Steve. Last night Radar was out for about 8 hours, while I cycled through the other boys, giving them an hour or two each.

Scout and Feet have become boggle happy. It's killing me. Scout has this new habit of picking strategic resting spots such that he can keep an eye on me if I pass the cage and be close enough to the bars for a "drive by scritch". If I hang out for more than a few seconds, the bruxing starts. *melt* If I stay longer, the eyes start to boggle. *whimper* He has SO figured out how to get me to hang around giving him scritches!! Feet will start to boggle as soon as I pick him up and walk away from the cage. My boys, let me show you how I loves them <3

Recon is such a fraidy cat. I can't say as I blame him, he is COVERED in bite wounds, and his eyesight is so bad . . . I've learned to call his name and slowly move my hand in front of his face before I touch him so he knows it's coming. He's STARTING to loosen up a bit. He'll lean into pets (can't scritch - too many scabs ;_; ), and sometimes he doesn't struggle when I go to pick him up. He actually fell asleep under my shirt last night. That was a first. It was also a first that he didn't have a fit of some kind where he suddenly becomes a ball of energy and tries to escape from some unknown threat. Hopefully he'll figure out that he's safe with me.

Lyra's diabetes seems to be under control and getting better! He's not real happy about it though because now I have to test his blood sugar twice a day and he HATES it. He never minded the shot in the scruff, but the poke in the ear does not make for a happy cat. Here's hoping that it'll all work itself out now that we have his weight under control!

So, the other night, I go out to the garage to get some work done (it's my woodshop), and this is what I found:



He could not figure out how to get out - like the open garage door was not big enough? He kept banging his wings on the ceiling. So, not wanting to freak him out too much, I decided to not work, but I couldn't leave the door open all night, so I put out a plate of seed and some water, and a bunch of odd socks for a nest. Next morning, I found it nested in the socks. I opened the big door again, and left. Checking later, birdy had gotten out. It was still nifty.

And, speaking of random avian oddness, I ran across this at Walmart a few weeks ago (cell phone pic, so poor quality):



Those are Grackles, BTW, kind of Texas' answer to Pigeons, before the Pigeons moved in.

So, Steve comes out to the living room to watch TV every other night or so, and at some point while he's out, he wants his rat. I fetch Radar for him, give him a flannel for Radar to mark, an empty Kleenex box for Radar to hide in and stash treats in (because Steve shares EVERYTHING with his rat!), and they have a serious cuddle for several hours. It's routine, it's nice, and they both love it. Radar systematically cleans all Steve's nails and inspects his ears for him, Steve will sit and give scritches for as long as Radar will sit still, which as we all know, can be a long time if the scritches are good :)

This has been our routine ever since Radar came to live here. It works, it makes for a happy rat and a happy hubby, and his cat can bloody well get over it ;)

Tuesday night was TV night - we had the last two parts of Tin Man on the DVR to watch (it was GREAT!!). Steve gets settled and ready and asks for Radar. I go to fetch. Radar knows it's his out time with Dad and comes running when I call his name. He's on the top shelf. He comes to the edge, and leans down and over the edge.

And I see this incredible wound. It shocks me enough for me to all but shout "Holy Shit!!", which of course, sets Steve off into a What's Wrong and Who Do I Have To Shoot frenzy. Radar has a . . . SPLIT in his skin across the back of his neck/shoulders. It's about an inch and a half long, and you can see MEAT. If he's not looking down, you can't even tell it's there. It's perfect. Straight edges, uniform depth, very clean and neat.

The freaky thing is, Radar is not in pain, and there is NO blood. I tear the cage apart looking for what could have cut him like that - nothing. And there is NO blood. Anywhere. WTF??

So, since there's no blood, and he's not in pain, we unfreak and give him a liberal smear of neosporin. He tolerates it, and doesn't try to groom it off. He's such a good boy. We do our usual routine, but when Radar goes back to the cage, I put him in the bottom section and raise the drawbridge to isolate him. Don't want the others to groom off the neosporin, OR to make the wound worse.

I get up at 8 the next morning and call the vet. Got a 2:30 appointment, since it's not REALLY an emergency, and I want to be there. Otherwise I could drop Radar off at any time and the vet would see him at his first available moment. I love my vet.

So, 2:00 comes, and I pack Radar in his travel bag with his flannel and kleenex box and off we go. He was SUCH a good boy! Unbelievably good. Doc T picked him up and Radar grabbed a hold on his shirt and scampered up to his shoulder and proceeded to investigate his ear. Doc T is a pleasant guy, but I don't think I'd ever seen him laugh before. He got Radar under a little control and took a good look at the wound. He said that if it was fresh, he'd want to put stitches in, but since it was old and the edges had started to heal, for stitches he'd have to debreed (or how ever you spell it) the wound, basically cut the edges off to make it fresh again. Bacci that! He also said that if we left it alone, it would heal just fine from the inside out. If we secured the edges together, it might make it faster and help avoid infection.

So Radar got stapled. Two metal staples. Doc T says it probably feels like getting your ear pierced. First, I held Radar as he got his hair clipped, then while Doc T scrubbed the hell out of the wound. That had to hurt, I could smell the alcohol in the soap, but Radar just made little mewing noises and stayed fairly still in my hands. Then came the stapler. With the first one, Radar jumped and let out SUCH a scream. I felt so bad. But the good little boy didn't bite, didn't even fear poop! (although he let one huge one out with the soap). For the second staple, he had a better idea of what was coming, and didn't jump, and didn't even scream loudly. As soon as I took one hand away, he was up and hiding in my hair.

So, now the poor baby is on antibiotics (some sulfa based, not baytril, thank goodness, AND it's cherry flavored!), and STILL isolated, just in case the bigger boys try to chew off the staples. Poor baby is lonely, and the other boys are mad at me, but until Radar starts to heal a bit, I am SO not risking leaving them all together. I do let them visit in my lap though, so I can keep guard.

OH! Doc says that it looks like a tooth or a claw got caught just under the outer layer of skin and just ripped. Not an intentional wound, and nothing life threatening, as long as there was no infection. Thank goodness for small favors.

I thought to take a pic of the wound before Doc came back with the stapler, it's not a great pic, being cell phone quality, but it's an idea of what I found. And not too gross!



He's not feeling too cooperative right now and won't let me take a pic of his staples, so I may edit that in later. In the mean time, here's a pic of Steve and Radar cuddling on the bed (which is what they do on days where Steve does NOT get up to watch TV).



And if those two images show up huge for you, something is BS in LJ, because I deleted them, trimmed them to 400 pixels, then reuploaded them. I still can't get them to display right, and it's ticking me off.

So, as soon as I got home from taking Lyra to the vet, my Father in Law drove in. He was early, but no big. I was wicked lucky with my in-laws. We got along from day one. My MIL is gone now - she had a massive stroke almost 20 years ago, and finally succumbed to it last spring. I miss her. Which I'm thinking is not too common - missing your MIL.

Anyway, FIL is Mr. Outdoorsman. He's like an Ohio version of the Marlboro man, if you remember that particular bit of advertising history. Hunter, fisherman, into dogs with a purpose and cats that hunt. Critters that fit their ecological niche.

And I have pet rats. Not their niche. Nope nope nope.

But he's cool! He jokes, tells the cats that they're not doing their job - "Look, a cage full of dinner you lazy beasts!". We've all heard that kind of thing before. But he's not being vindictive or even serious. He's joking, and he makes sure you know he's joking, and he doesn't push it like some do.

When I introduced him to the rats, he remembered their names. He asked questions. He commented on how badly they're spoiled, not mean, just kind of bemused.

Last night, after dinner, we're all sitting in the living room watching TV. Steve (hubby) has Radar (he's claimed Radar is HIS rat) on his shoulder, I have Scout. Walt can't sit for long, has to get up and walk - aging joints and all that. He wound up standing behind our chairs. Radar jumped over to me and both rats stood on the back of my chair to check out Walt. They climbed him, and he laughed. Good, solid laughs like I have not heard from him in a long time. It was so good.

Time came to clean up the kitchen and put up leftovers, etc. and I started making a dinner plate for the boys. After he figured out what I was doing, he started handing me bits to put on the plate. "You gonna give them some of this corn? Do they like potatoes? How 'bout some gravy?". Like I said - lucky with my in-laws.

Today, every time I go to the rat cage, he follows. Stands there watching the interaction. Asks questions - "what's that noise he's making" (bruxing), "why is he twitching like that" (boggle), "he must like that, he's falling asleep!" (that hypnotic look they get when you stroke across their head), etc. It's been great. I was so nervous about his reaction, but he's like "well, if you like them, I guess they're OK", and admits to the cute factor. Eventually, he may even hold one and give scritches.

It's been a good Holiday.

Poor Lyra. Yet another 8am trip to the Vet's office, with him telling me how rotten I am at the top of his lungs. From the floor of the car. And the reception counter. And especially when I tried to hand him over. The assistant had to help get him detached. Poor kitty.

So, he's getting his "sugar" tested all day again today. Last time they upped his insulin from one unit twice a day to two units twice a day. He's been on this schedule for two weeks now, and he seems fine, but he is SUCH a pee factory still, I'm thinking they're going to up it to three units. We'll see. In the mean time, Thalia is wandering around the house on full alert, convinced that Lyra is just hiding out waiting to pounce on her as she walks by. It's pretty funny.



That's the lovely and cuddlesome Ms Thalia, looking her prim cutest. Right now, she's lying on my desk, purring and clenching every time she thinks I'm looking at her. Yes, she is VERY jealous of the time I spend with the rats, but she gets her individual time too. And I find that falling asleep is much easier with a purring bit of warm fur snuggled up close to my hip.

On the ratty front, Recon is starting to open up and bond. Finally. He's now quite comfortable with taking food from my hand (which he wouldn't do before), and today while I was playing the "lets stick our head in the cage and use the rat pile as a pillow" game, he climbed up onto my shoulder and bruxed. It's SUCH a relief when a rat gets comfy enough with you to just climb on board.

Hi. My name is Pam, and I'm addicted to taking pictures of my rats.

It's really getting bad. Thank the gods for digital photography. I've always been a shutterbug, rarely going places without my trusty Nikon with me, but now-a-days it lives on top of the rat cage.

Today, I cleaned said cage and had rats crawling all over me (no, I don't take them out when I clean, it's more fun to clean around them!). When I was done, gee, there was Mr. Nikon, and gee again, the microdrive was empty - can't have that, now can we?

63 shots later, the boys are dazed from the flash, and I have a ton of fuzzy pics and a few really cute ones. I'm only putting a couple here, because even in a journal almost no one sees, there is such a thing as image overload ;)

Sleeping Radar


Scout and Recon getting along:


Scout claiming the igloo: