Log in

No account? Create an account
Previous Entry Share Next Entry
Clio has busted her leg
Thursday morning Andres noticed that Clio was limping a bit, but it didn't look bad. Therefore, he forgot to mention it until much later that evening, when I noticed that she wasn't putting any weight on her right rear leg at all, she would squeak if it was touched, and the ankle had swollen to about twice its usual diameter. So today Andres hauled her in to the vet; this is actually the first time they've seen her, so they were terribly impressed by her cuteness and general adorability.

As far as they can tell from the x-ray, the leg isn't actually broken, just twisted or sprained or something. They have put it in a tape splint, which is much more awkward to get around with than her previous solution of just holding it tucked up to her body all the time, but which does seem to be protecting it from random bumps. Or maybe that's the painkiller. (Well, I guess Metacam's really mostly an inflammation reducer, but it certainly doesn't hurt.)

Here is Clio not caring about the splint:

She is hanging out in the little cage for a while to try and reduce the amount of climbing she does. If she doesn't chew the splint off herself, we are supposed to remove it in about a week. She doesn't seem to mind it much, and hasn't tried to chew on it at all so far. I'm always impressed by how very little notice rats take of any little physical limitations they may develop. Back leg not working? No problem! Both back legs starting to fail? No problem, I've got two more! Missing limb? Tripods are stable too! Missing eye? What eye, I hardly ever used that in the first place! Stone deaf? Nah, it's just gone awfully quiet around here for some reason! I'm not sure if it's just that they lack the imagination to wish things were different, or if they're so used to going about their business that they don't really notice anything changed. They're very peaceful and accepting about these things; sort of vaguely zen-like.

Clio is particularly zen, in that she is a generally Buddha-like rat (chubby, cheerful, spends a lot of time meditating [we lesser beings call this "napping in the hammock," for we are unenlightened]). The vet says she should probably be on a diet, to cut down on certain aspects of the Buddha resemblance. This is completely true, but it's difficult to meddle with one rat's diet when she lives with three other rats. Ever so often we look at her and go "Oh my god! Is that a lump?!" but no, it's just another little roll of fat tucked up in an odd position.

  • 1
What cute little ears.

The last rat I saw was the size of a Buick, scurrying about the subway tracks. Not cute.

As far as I can tell, based on personal observations only, the subway tracks in Boston are inhabited by tiny gray mice, exactly the same color as the stones and dust down there.

The subway tracks in New York are inhabited by a smaller number of much larger rats, which are standard wild-rat agouti, because they don't need to blend into their environment since nothing will eat them. A rat the size of a Buick, though, would probably have some issues cohabitating with subway trains. Unless it learned the schedule very well indeed.

(Deleted comment)
i don't want to have rats anymore (i think they would not cohabitate with the dogs well) but i wish we lived closer together so i could come over and play with yours!

Me too! They like visitors.

if clio is anything like my pups when they're on a similar med, you've been told to keep her quiet, and are now laughing uproariously because now that she doesn't hurt she's a little speeeeeed demon.

She's actually being fairly quiet, but she is usually fairly quiet. As long as I keep her away from the wheel, all is good. She doesn't seem to be moving around any more than she was Thursday when she was just holding her leg funny; I assume it only really hurt when it got bumped.

it's only a flesh wound!

I'm not sure if it's just that they lack the imagination to wish things were different, or if they're so used to going about their business that they don't really notice anything changed.

hard to say, isn't it. i never know where imagination fits with animals (i have no experience with rats, but with lots of other mammals). they certainly seem to remember abuse and imagine it happening again, but injuries don't seem to elicit much change of habit (except avoidance of what caused it, if such a thing can be determined, and the injury was particularly painful).

it's a huge evolutionary advantage to continue to go about your business, of course, because nature doesn't normally provide pampering caretakers.

Is time going to pass correctly, with Clio injured?

[Forgot to add]

Clearly, the fate of the universe depends on her speedy recovery!

Hee. :)

This does explain the "okay, this cookie tray needs to be turned around at 1:12... whoa, it's 1:52! What?!" The cookies were fine, so I guess the whole world lost 40 minutes, not just me. Clio musta been asleep.

Either that or I misread 1:49 as 1:09, but that's much less interesting.

  • 1