Maybe this is frivolous, but my grown daughter's pet rat Balthasar was euthanized today. I am so proud of her writing ability (my daughter's, not Balthasar's). This is what she said about the event.
There is a green cup in the room at the vet’s office that is for euthanasias. The cup says “plant water,” and it’s next to the poem about the rainbow bridge. The cup is needed for the two large plants at the window, though I wonder how often the water spills to the box of tissues nestled between them.
The cup is in the euthanasia room, as a gentle reminder to keep the plants alive. This is a room for transitioning to death, but the plants are meant to be exempt. In all of it, there is a reticence to say the truth of why anyone is here. The rainbow bridge and the paw print say that this is a place of transition to the beyond, not a place of death.
Balthasar is not in the carrying cage. We have his travel cage in the car, but he doesn’t need it anymore. He doesn’t know where he is. He can’t walk. He is a skeleton wrapped in a delicate layer of fur and panting breaths. The concerns of a travel cage are not his concerns anymore. There’s nowhere he could go, except to that great beyond.
He doesn’t know much anymore, but he knows me. I hold him. I scratch him behind his ears. I pet him. He responds by gnashing his teeth and licking my fingertips.
This rat is two and a half years old. He outlived his life partner, and has been in the careful and steady care of new rat friends. He knows he is loved. He does not know much about the world anymore, but he knows he’s loved. I have made sure of that.
I cry. This is my rat - one of three, about to be two - and just a rat, but not just a rat. He is a companion, a friend, a gentleman who looks good in a hat. I know his favourite foods, his favourite sleepy places, what makes him happy. We have spent two and a half years together, this little gentleman and I, and as I wait for him to leave me, I cry.
I’ve been thinking about why I cry, and I think it comes down to this. I don’t cry because they die. In Balthasar’s case, I scheduled this death. I called the vet and asked them to end it because his struggling was becoming too much for him. I cry because in having a pet, a little life has been entrusted to me, and it is to me that the responsibility of when to end that life falls.
If I did not cry at the reality of requesting a death, I would question who I am.
I hold him close as I sign the form the vet hands me. Yes, I request euthanasia. Yes, I will take his body with me so I can bury it beside Zahir, and so Norman and Ruffles can see him and say goodbye. I hold him, and I feel his little heart, and I cry.
Balthasar doesn’t speak English. He never claimed to. My Rat is not very good, but I speak it as best I can, resting him in my palm and stroking his fur. I tell him he is loved, that he always has been, and that he is a good gentleman. He replies by gnashing his teeth. This is how our conversations always go.
The vet comes. She takes him. A few minutes later, she returns with a box. The label says “Balthasar.”
I had been entrusted with this little life for two and a half years. I was tasked with loving and caring, and received love and care in return. All that’s left of a little life, enclosed in a cardboard box, so light as to barely exist, yet so heavy in my hands that I struggle under the weight of it.
We leave behind the living plants, the illusion of why we're here shattered. Transition complete, and bridge crossed.
I bury him beneath the tree, beside Zahir. I give him a treat for the road. I sing.
And above all, I cry.
RIP Balthasar the Rat
- kroxquo
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RIP Balthasar the Rat
You live and learn. Or at least you live. - Douglas Adams
- Earl the Squirrel
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Re: RIP Balthasar the Rat
Dammit, you made me cry (and cry again)! This is just exquisitely beautiful. It's obvious that your daughter knows the value of true love (and knows the proper spelling of favourite).
Thank you both for sharing, even if you did make me cry (and cry again). It was kind of a cathartic and cleansing cry, if you know what I mean....
Thank you both for sharing, even if you did make me cry (and cry again). It was kind of a cathartic and cleansing cry, if you know what I mean....
- tlynn78
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Re: RIP Balthasar the Rat
Beautiful. I recently held my mom's little Zeus as he left us for the Rainbow Bridge and my dad's lap, and was struck anew at how very much weight 'life' lends a physical body, and how much lighter the physical body is once life has moved on.
To argue with a person who has renounced the use of reason is like administering medicine to the dead. -Thomas Paine
You can ignore reality, but you can't ignore the consequences of ignoring reality. -Ayn Rand
Those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities. -Voltaire
You can ignore reality, but you can't ignore the consequences of ignoring reality. -Ayn Rand
Those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities. -Voltaire