A Study : Rats and Their Effect on Clinical Depression
Three and a half years ago, I stumbled upon the joy of owning pet rats.
I bought 4, two males and two females. I had hamsters growing up and those critters are known to bite so when I read about rats being wonderful pets PLUS they don’t bite, I had to try them.
I quickly found that rats are very, very sweet. The are intelligent creature and they love attention and to be held.
Pet rats have a life spam of approximately 3.5 – 3 years. My two remaining are over 3.5 years now. The remaining male, Rudy, seems to be doing okay, but not as active as he once was.
Maxine, my remaining female, she is active but is now blind and stumbles a bit. I had to take her cage down to a one level because she was beginning to fall down and I was afraid she’d get hurt if she fell from the top story.
This is my Maxine > > > > > > > >
She was my first.
Gladys, I lost about a year ago. She was the boss of the bunch. Odie, my big ole male, was the sweetheart. He loved nothing better than to be hugged on and held. He loved giving little nose kisses. Odie passed away last Saturday on my birthday. It’s funny how a rat can break your heart when they leave you, but the love he offered while he was living more than makes up for the hurt of his passing.
They truly are good pets folks…
Friday, September 19, 2008
Luke's Many Blessings
My Greeting Upon Returning From Work
Luke has the most pitiful face. He can look up at you with those big brown eyes and just melt your heart. He is a most loving and beautiful dog. He is blessed to have these attributes.
Luke has the most pitiful face. He can look up at you with those big brown eyes and just melt your heart. He is a most loving and beautiful dog. He is blessed to have these attributes.
This is what I walked into recently when I came in from work:
He better be darn glad he has such a sweet pitiful face.
Happy Birthday
Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee….
Saturday was my birthday. I am closer to 50 than I ever expected to be.
My boobs have fallen into no mans land.
My teeth have almost all been capped.
My knees hurt more than they ever have.
The back of my hands look like they belong to some old lady..
My chins wiggle when I laugh.
I pee just a little when I sneeze.
I’m hornier than I’ve ever been in my life.
I’m getting little hang-tab moles all over my neck. ( WTF????? )
Ain’t life grand?
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
I received an E-card from my sister for my birthday. This is my only sibling. I tried for years to have a relationship with her, but she never responded. Out of the blue I get this card.
I’m not very sure what to think. I’ve written her and emailed her and she doesn’t respond. She is nine years older than I and was our of the house by the time I was 6, so I just figure it is the age difference. At our age now thought that doesn’t even make sense.
There was never a falling out or a fight or anything. She just simply chooses to pretend I don’t exist for some reason.
I HATE the way receiving that card got my hopes up.
Saturday was my birthday. I am closer to 50 than I ever expected to be.
My boobs have fallen into no mans land.
My teeth have almost all been capped.
My knees hurt more than they ever have.
The back of my hands look like they belong to some old lady..
My chins wiggle when I laugh.
I pee just a little when I sneeze.
I’m hornier than I’ve ever been in my life.
I’m getting little hang-tab moles all over my neck. ( WTF????? )
Ain’t life grand?
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
I received an E-card from my sister for my birthday. This is my only sibling. I tried for years to have a relationship with her, but she never responded. Out of the blue I get this card.
I’m not very sure what to think. I’ve written her and emailed her and she doesn’t respond. She is nine years older than I and was our of the house by the time I was 6, so I just figure it is the age difference. At our age now thought that doesn’t even make sense.
There was never a falling out or a fight or anything. She just simply chooses to pretend I don’t exist for some reason.
I HATE the way receiving that card got my hopes up.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
A Genie in a Bottle
There was one other time in my life where I felt like the easiest “out” of a situation I truly didn’t want to remain in, was the BIG ONE, the “permanent out”.
I came so very close that one time. Two full refills of anti-hypertensives, a full bottle of sleeping pills and a bottle of whine. My *380 for good measure, just in case.
I left work at midnight and drove to my pre-selected spot. Somewhere secluded that was closed for the summer and where only a cop making his nightly rounds would find me. I plugged in my old Alice Cooper tape and opened the back door of my van. I sat there for I guess and hour or two, talking myself through this, making sure this is what I wanted to do. I hated to embarrass anyone or make anyone feel bad but inside I was tired of hanging on. I just couldn’t see leaving and embarrassing everyone with a divorce that was bound to turn ugly.
I eventually opened that first bottle and poured about half the little pills out into my hand. I held them for a long time. As I was listening to the night creatures all around me I kept trying to extract from my head any reason for not going through with it.
I looked across the parking lot I had chosen to the elementary school I had gone to so many years ago. I wondered how many of my classmates had made something of their lives, and wondered if they were happy. How many were somewhere right now, at 3 in the morning, wishing they had someone to talk to. Someone who would tell them everything will be alright.
Life can be so full of joy. I can remember some of them in my own life. The births of my children. The Christmases where they were just beginning to learn about Santa. Their little ballgames and their big moments like getting their learners permits. They brought me joy throughout their little lives.
I have wished, like a child with a genie that I could go back. Wished that I could go back to that time when I had the children. Back when they were young and fun and putting their fat little arms around my neck, kissing me with their smudged faces. Back to when I was spending my days taking them to school and cooking their dinner and cleaning their clothes and picking them up from school. You never, ever realize how much you will miss those times until they’re gone.
Now they’re making their own memories. One makes them with me included, one without me. My son hasn’t had anything to do with me since I made the decision to leave his daddy rather than commit suicide that night. He was a senior in high school that night. The last thought I had before I spit out that first handful of pills was that if I do this I will ruin his senior year.
It has been 9 years since that night. I could never have imagined he would have listened to his daddy’s lies, forgetting the past 17 years when it was me, his mother that he came to when he was hurt or sad or in trouble, never fathoming he would choose his father who had never given him anything emotionally. Then, I never imagined it could possibly last this long…his anger towards me. His two children don’t know their “other” granny.
It makes me wonder if I truly made the right choice that night.
I came so very close that one time. Two full refills of anti-hypertensives, a full bottle of sleeping pills and a bottle of whine. My *380 for good measure, just in case.
I left work at midnight and drove to my pre-selected spot. Somewhere secluded that was closed for the summer and where only a cop making his nightly rounds would find me. I plugged in my old Alice Cooper tape and opened the back door of my van. I sat there for I guess and hour or two, talking myself through this, making sure this is what I wanted to do. I hated to embarrass anyone or make anyone feel bad but inside I was tired of hanging on. I just couldn’t see leaving and embarrassing everyone with a divorce that was bound to turn ugly.
I eventually opened that first bottle and poured about half the little pills out into my hand. I held them for a long time. As I was listening to the night creatures all around me I kept trying to extract from my head any reason for not going through with it.
I looked across the parking lot I had chosen to the elementary school I had gone to so many years ago. I wondered how many of my classmates had made something of their lives, and wondered if they were happy. How many were somewhere right now, at 3 in the morning, wishing they had someone to talk to. Someone who would tell them everything will be alright.
Life can be so full of joy. I can remember some of them in my own life. The births of my children. The Christmases where they were just beginning to learn about Santa. Their little ballgames and their big moments like getting their learners permits. They brought me joy throughout their little lives.
I have wished, like a child with a genie that I could go back. Wished that I could go back to that time when I had the children. Back when they were young and fun and putting their fat little arms around my neck, kissing me with their smudged faces. Back to when I was spending my days taking them to school and cooking their dinner and cleaning their clothes and picking them up from school. You never, ever realize how much you will miss those times until they’re gone.
Now they’re making their own memories. One makes them with me included, one without me. My son hasn’t had anything to do with me since I made the decision to leave his daddy rather than commit suicide that night. He was a senior in high school that night. The last thought I had before I spit out that first handful of pills was that if I do this I will ruin his senior year.
It has been 9 years since that night. I could never have imagined he would have listened to his daddy’s lies, forgetting the past 17 years when it was me, his mother that he came to when he was hurt or sad or in trouble, never fathoming he would choose his father who had never given him anything emotionally. Then, I never imagined it could possibly last this long…his anger towards me. His two children don’t know their “other” granny.
It makes me wonder if I truly made the right choice that night.
Friday, September 05, 2008
Update (with fingers crossed)
Ah life is good. I am knocking on wood as I state that fact however.
The meds seem to be doing their job. Nothing has changed at home other than possibly my acceptance of the facts as they exist, and the bills still come in on a regular basis, but for whatever reason the depression seems to be taking a back seat.
At one time I would very proudly share with everyone when that happened. Whenever the depression would stay away, I didn't hesitate to tell the news. Then I learned that after announcing it suddenly things would change and it would come back with a vegenance so I stopped telling anyone. Something inside me tells me today to go ahead and share - maybe someone else needs to know there are some good times in between. I'm still crossing my fingers though.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I thought I'd share my latest pics of my babies with you all. They bring me great joy, even Luke who tho getting better, still has a tendency to eat things that really shouldn't be consumed.
This is Luke. He is a rescue dog, as all my dogs have been. He is twice as long as he is tall so looks a lot like either a Daschund or a Basset, and has the personality of a Beagle with his tunnel vision when it comes to getting fixated on some object.
So far he has consumed 3 remote controls, or at least parts of them, making them trashworthy. The concept of a Nylabone, which my other baby loves and will hang on to and tote around the house to his various hiding places, is completely lost on Luke. I found this out the hard way after giving him one. He ate it. He promptly threw it up for which I am grateful because I can only imagine what kind of damage it could have caused otherwise.
Luke is approximately just under 2 years according to the vets guess.
To the right is Thomas. He is a mixture of who knows what. He is 100% sweet and loving and very well-behaved.
Thomas is the exact opposite of Luke. You only have to give Thomas a stern look and he will obey. Thomas is a little over 3 years old according to the vets guess when he first came to live with us, (Thomas - not the vet).
Thomas has been a huge comfort to me during the very blackest times of my struggle with depression.
Here they are waiting on their humans to let them back in. "How long do these humans think it takes to pee anyway?"
So there are two of my babies.
I also have a hideously large goldfish (about 5 inches long and fat-fat-fat) I bought for 29 cents when he was about an inch long.
Then there is Maxine, Odie and Rudy, my three rats. I discovered the intelligence and gentleness of pet rats about 3 years ago. I had 4 but Gladys passed away about 6 months ago.
The only have a lifespan of approximately 3 years. So far, the three remaining are about 3 and a couple of months. The exceptions to the rule maybe.
Sebastion, Samantha and George are our three cats. Again, all rescues. I'll add all the others at a later date. I hope you enjoy the pics.
The meds seem to be doing their job. Nothing has changed at home other than possibly my acceptance of the facts as they exist, and the bills still come in on a regular basis, but for whatever reason the depression seems to be taking a back seat.
At one time I would very proudly share with everyone when that happened. Whenever the depression would stay away, I didn't hesitate to tell the news. Then I learned that after announcing it suddenly things would change and it would come back with a vegenance so I stopped telling anyone. Something inside me tells me today to go ahead and share - maybe someone else needs to know there are some good times in between. I'm still crossing my fingers though.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I thought I'd share my latest pics of my babies with you all. They bring me great joy, even Luke who tho getting better, still has a tendency to eat things that really shouldn't be consumed.
This is Luke. He is a rescue dog, as all my dogs have been. He is twice as long as he is tall so looks a lot like either a Daschund or a Basset, and has the personality of a Beagle with his tunnel vision when it comes to getting fixated on some object.
So far he has consumed 3 remote controls, or at least parts of them, making them trashworthy. The concept of a Nylabone, which my other baby loves and will hang on to and tote around the house to his various hiding places, is completely lost on Luke. I found this out the hard way after giving him one. He ate it. He promptly threw it up for which I am grateful because I can only imagine what kind of damage it could have caused otherwise.
Luke is approximately just under 2 years according to the vets guess.
To the right is Thomas. He is a mixture of who knows what. He is 100% sweet and loving and very well-behaved.
Thomas is the exact opposite of Luke. You only have to give Thomas a stern look and he will obey. Thomas is a little over 3 years old according to the vets guess when he first came to live with us, (Thomas - not the vet).
Thomas has been a huge comfort to me during the very blackest times of my struggle with depression.
Here they are waiting on their humans to let them back in. "How long do these humans think it takes to pee anyway?"
So there are two of my babies.
I also have a hideously large goldfish (about 5 inches long and fat-fat-fat) I bought for 29 cents when he was about an inch long.
Then there is Maxine, Odie and Rudy, my three rats. I discovered the intelligence and gentleness of pet rats about 3 years ago. I had 4 but Gladys passed away about 6 months ago.
The only have a lifespan of approximately 3 years. So far, the three remaining are about 3 and a couple of months. The exceptions to the rule maybe.
Sebastion, Samantha and George are our three cats. Again, all rescues. I'll add all the others at a later date. I hope you enjoy the pics.
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