boglin

Mr Fennel and I made the long journey this morning. He was, if the age given me when I adopted him is correct, 3 years 4 months.

He'd had mobility problems for the last few months - developing a lump on his hind leg that had by now rendered it useless. Being a lazy bugger by nature, he was still quite happy, but I think there was further deteriation over the past couple of days, and it was becoming difficult for him to drink with assistance.

I would have rather he went naturally, but with going away for a week and leaving the animals in someone else's care, and being a firm believer in the motto "There is never a right time to have an animal put down - it's either too early or too late. All you can hope for is that you don't leave it until the latter", I decided to take him this morning. I didn't know whether he'd have last another week anyway, and he was only going to get worse and not better.

It was peaceful and painless.

A sad morning, as he was one of my favourite rats, being such a grump old bugger.