RIP Celeste 2004-2006
Jul. 29th, 2006 09:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
womzillaYes, yet another painful rat death, though less shocking than some.
Celeste was one of our cutest rats ever: she was Siamese-colored (like a Siamese cat, white with brown on the legs, ears, nose, and hindquarters) and dumbo, which means her ears were larger and lower on the head than a typical rat's. She was also very pudgy; on beholding her, we often commented, "Consider a spherical rat."
Celeste was very personable and laid back--she liked her human companions and was always happy to be taken out for play. She was![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
supergee's favorite, the one he always made time to say hello to when she was out.
We are uncertain of her precise age. We got her at a rat show in Philadelphia in September 2004, and her breeder did not know her exact age; she was most likely somewhere between four and six months then, so she wasn't young when she died. Her gentleness and advanced age lead us to relocate her to the Sick Cage (the one-level cage in my study) nearly two months ago with Franklin Rattsevelt when it became clear that Franklin was having trouble getting around in the Seraglio (the large multi-level cage of rat girls and eunuchs in the living room), and they kept each other good company for a few weeks.
Her own health started to visibly decline about three weeks ago, as she groomed herself less and spent more time sleeping; ten days ago, she took a serious turn for the worse when she displayed head-tilt. Long-time readers around these parts will remember that Sol Invictus developed chronic head tilt some time before his death, so we treated this as a serious problem. We took Celeste to our local vet for treatment and got antibiotics for the ear infection; they did no visible good, and several days later, on a return trip to the vet, we discovered she had a sizable tumor on her right forehead.
Off she went to the exotics-specialist vet in Manhattan, who lined her up for surgery. On examination, it turned out the tumor was actually a mass of infected tissue, an infection that almost certainly started in the ear and worked its way out. The doctor's description of the process included more uses of the words "absess", "necrotic", and "debride" than should be allowed under the Geneva Conventions. But they cleaned out the infection, started a bunch of treatments, and hoped for the best.
So she came home from the vet Thursday night with a battery of medicines: oral antibiotic, antibiotic ointment and ear-drops, and an NSAID for inflammation and pain-killing. She was still in obvious distress--she couldn't get comfortable, wouldn't eat, and when she slept, it was more like passing out. We knew it would be rough until the medicines had a chance to make her right. We nursed her along for two days, but when we came back today from an afternoon of shopping in Manhattan, she was gone.
We knew the odds were long, and we agreed to the treatment in the dual hope that a) we would be giving her a fighting chance and b) that we, and the doctor, would learn more from the treatment (especially the bacterial cultures) than we had been able to learn from the similar deaths of Ozzy, Sol, and Harrison. The culture results are still forthcoming.
She was a superb rat, she had a good life, and I'm glad she's not in pain any more. She will be deeply missed.
Some photos follow the cut.
Celeste on the prowl
Celeste putting up with being hatted
Celeste was one of our cutest rats ever: she was Siamese-colored (like a Siamese cat, white with brown on the legs, ears, nose, and hindquarters) and dumbo, which means her ears were larger and lower on the head than a typical rat's. She was also very pudgy; on beholding her, we often commented, "Consider a spherical rat."
Celeste was very personable and laid back--she liked her human companions and was always happy to be taken out for play. She was
supergee's favorite, the one he always made time to say hello to when she was out.We are uncertain of her precise age. We got her at a rat show in Philadelphia in September 2004, and her breeder did not know her exact age; she was most likely somewhere between four and six months then, so she wasn't young when she died. Her gentleness and advanced age lead us to relocate her to the Sick Cage (the one-level cage in my study) nearly two months ago with Franklin Rattsevelt when it became clear that Franklin was having trouble getting around in the Seraglio (the large multi-level cage of rat girls and eunuchs in the living room), and they kept each other good company for a few weeks.
Her own health started to visibly decline about three weeks ago, as she groomed herself less and spent more time sleeping; ten days ago, she took a serious turn for the worse when she displayed head-tilt. Long-time readers around these parts will remember that Sol Invictus developed chronic head tilt some time before his death, so we treated this as a serious problem. We took Celeste to our local vet for treatment and got antibiotics for the ear infection; they did no visible good, and several days later, on a return trip to the vet, we discovered she had a sizable tumor on her right forehead.
Off she went to the exotics-specialist vet in Manhattan, who lined her up for surgery. On examination, it turned out the tumor was actually a mass of infected tissue, an infection that almost certainly started in the ear and worked its way out. The doctor's description of the process included more uses of the words "absess", "necrotic", and "debride" than should be allowed under the Geneva Conventions. But they cleaned out the infection, started a bunch of treatments, and hoped for the best.
So she came home from the vet Thursday night with a battery of medicines: oral antibiotic, antibiotic ointment and ear-drops, and an NSAID for inflammation and pain-killing. She was still in obvious distress--she couldn't get comfortable, wouldn't eat, and when she slept, it was more like passing out. We knew it would be rough until the medicines had a chance to make her right. We nursed her along for two days, but when we came back today from an afternoon of shopping in Manhattan, she was gone.
We knew the odds were long, and we agreed to the treatment in the dual hope that a) we would be giving her a fighting chance and b) that we, and the doctor, would learn more from the treatment (especially the bacterial cultures) than we had been able to learn from the similar deaths of Ozzy, Sol, and Harrison. The culture results are still forthcoming.
She was a superb rat, she had a good life, and I'm glad she's not in pain any more. She will be deeply missed.
Some photos follow the cut.
Celeste on the prowl
Celeste putting up with being hatted
