Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Moribund Papa Rat

the transition symbol is often called 'Happy Trails'


I want to share with you about Papa Rat, not THE Papa Rat described in 'The Truth about Papa Rat'. That Papa Rat is too Mickey Mouse for me. No, this one is the one I rescued from the snake, the one whose roommate died in front of him, the one I bought a friend for that ended up being his wife. Together they have had eighteen babies, six the first litter, and twelve the next. My Papa Rat, whose name is Dad, for I named him after my deceased father who was born in the year of the Rat.

About two weeks ago, Papa Rat was the happiest rat on earth. He had Mama Rat in the cage with him, and I could tell they were deeply in love. They would sleep with their little arms around each other, one paw resting on the other's back. She was pregnant with his twelve pups. And life was good.

Ten days ago, I separated the two. She can get pregnant the minute the last baby pops out. We were done with new litters! Side by side in their cages, I left them in the care of a good friend as I travelled to Canada. He was fine.

When I came back, he moved funny. Kind of too still, hunched over, and gnashing his teeth the way only a rodent can. Soon he was dragging himself along the cage. Then the right front and back paws were extended. It looked like he had a stroke. I thought the end was 'any day now'.

If you look at my post a few days ago, I wrote that I went downstairs that morning with a box in hand to bury him in. He wasn't dead. The next day, he looked awful, and I thought for sure this was IT. I told my friend, who was dropping off the key and offered to help me with the funeral as I dug a hole, when I went back in to get him, he had MOVED! Creepy, huh? The dying pet that will not actually die. That was yesterday. (he had started moving funny while we were gone, and she felt terrible. I assured her pet rats don't live very long, and it was not her fault).

This morning, he was very still, eyes not seeing, but perking up to my voice. Tonight I expected him to be on the cage, and transitioned (that is what we spiritual people call death). I came home at eleven p.m. after a L-O-N-G day at work. He was still breathing hard. This time making noises. Rats shouldn't make sounds when they breathe. It is ominous.

I asked him what he wanted. He had sent a message earlier while I was at work that he had passed.* When I came home, he said, 'I want to see you one last time.' I spent time with him. I wish I had the opportunity to spend more time with my own earthly father when he was on hospice for pulmonary fibrosis. Today, because of my lesson learned with my own dad's passing, with this 'dad', I just sat. I told him it was okay to go, when he was ready, to the place where there was no pain. Of course I gave more reiki. And I listened to his spirit. He wanted me to keep the lights on. He did not want to pass in the dark. So they are on.

What about Mama Rat? She has been concerned. So I did what all compassionate people do for someone in pain. I gave her a chocolate chip cookie. She was delighted! She took it right away, and dragged it with her everywhere she went in her cage. I had to explain to her that what Papa Rat has is contagious, and she has to stay healthy for her litter of pups. She munched contentedly on her cookie, barely taking the time to acknowledge that truth, but in her heart, she understood.

To me, these rats epitomize the cabal, the dark hats, the illumi-not-any-more-i. Papa Rat's fate is like the ones who are going to be recycled to the center of the sun. He had a fatal illness that could strike any time. He was not right. Many rats that seem okay have this respiratory disease. You can't tell. In my opinion, Reptilian heritage is like that. And instead of dying a normal death (do you have any idea how fast the metabolism of a rat is? It's like 78 rpm compared to our 33 1/3. they should die quicker.), they drag it out. For whatever reason. And when you get ready to have a funeral, it moves! Like in a horror movie. Either way, it's gonna die. It's breathing hard, the eyes are not seeing any more, and it can't eat or take care of itself. In medicine we have a term for this condition: expectant management. Death is on the horizon. Death is the outcome. There is no other way out.

Mama Rat makes me think of the ones who are going to 'rehabilitate'. That cookie kind of makes them forget about everything else! LOL go figure!

Anyway, it is time for me to go. It's been real. And my pleasure to be here with you this time.

Namaste,

Reiki Doc

No comments:

Post a Comment