(See the bottom of this page for oodles of Baku photographs!) Born: January 31st, 2000 Died: October 4th, 2002 Came From: Petco (a pet shop) Sex: female (she was an alpha female) Color: a miss marked blue berkshire Variety: standard Named For: I made up the name and just thought it sounded cool Cutest Feature: the white mark she had on only the left side of her nose Cutest Behavior: she would wag her tail when I petted her Worst Behavior: she was notoriously bad about letting new rats into her colony General Temperament: reserved Temperament Towards Rats: aggressive Temperament Towards People: reserved towards strangers, but treated me very lovingly Liked: holding grudges, giving kisses, being the boss, playing in blankets, talking, talking, talking Disliked: rats testing her authority The Story of How Baku Came Into Our Life... How we ever managed to get Baku is somewhat of a miracle. This whole thing started with my sister-in-law Nikki buying a hamster. I love animals and was very anxious to meet Nikki's new fuzzy friend, and it was as I watched her Siberian Hamster play, that an idea popped into my head that I hadn't thought about in a very long time. Should I have a pet rat again? Watching the hamster made me remember all the great times I had had with my first rat, Sisco. That was eight years ago. Had my life finally calmed down enough to take on such a responsibility again? I talked it over with my husband and spent a few days agonizing over the decision. I didn't want to buy a rat, and then not have the time to take care of it. Luckily for me though, I finally decided to take the plunge. Now, for some reason, I decided that I really wanted a blue rat and got my heart set on the idea. At one point in time I had seen some rats with this newer unusual color and I had thought that they were just gorgeous. What I didn't know, is that this new color was not a very common color for rats to have. Were was I going to find one? (Note: I have now learned that you should never shop for rats by color, because the personality of the rat is much more important than how they look.) First I tried to find a breeder of rats because I knew that pet shop rats generally were not handled that much. But I had no idea how to locate a breeder. I tried calling vet clinics, the Humane Society, and watched the classifieds. No luck. (I of course never thought of using the internet.) I became pretty frustrated and decided to resort to pet shops, hoping for the best. So I waited for my next day off to begin the hunt! Neal and I decided to head out in the morning, off to find my new little blue bundle of joy. We went EVERYWHERE in the Twin Cities and surrounding areas. Unfortunately, either places didn't have rats at all, or they only had male rats (I was looking for a female), or they only had white rats. This is where I need to mention about one of my awful personality traits. I have no patients. Once I put my mind to something, I want it to happen yesterday. I had already waited weeks trying to find a breeder, so I was determined to bring a rat home that day, do or die. It was getting towards the end of the day, and it was looking pretty grim. We headed for the very last pet store we knew of that carried rats. It was a Petco. We walked in and asked the girl working if they had any female rats for sale. She pointed us to a huge hexagon tank that was just brimming with baby rats. For once they were not white! They were all the color of chocolate with various white markings. I must have had a look of disappointment on my face, though, because the girl asked me what was wrong. I told her the whole story of how we had searched the state for a blue female rat and had had no luck. She said "oh, we had a blue female." I burst with excitement and asked her where it was. She said "one of the other employees decided to take it home just an hour ago." I practically cried, out of frustration. Why couldn't I have come to this store first! I just couldn't believe that I had missed my chance by only one hour! I gave up. I decided I would never find my blue girl. I then set my eyes upon the tank filled with the baby chocolate colored rats. As I was trying to pick one out, another employee walked up to me. On her shoulder was a beautiful blue baby rat. She introduced herself and told me that she was the one taking the blue rat home. Apparently the other girl helping us went and told her the story of my search. She told me she already had two rats at home, and asked me, that if she would let me have this rat, would I give it a good home? I couldn't believe it. I shouted out yes! I would give her a wonderful home! I said she would get oodles of love, promising left and right. She weighed her decision and handed the rat to me. At this point I did start to tear up. I couldn't believe it. I told her she was the nicest person I ever met, and thanked her profusely. And that is why Baku was my little miracle rat. She Was... Baku... My angel... My miracle rat... My Boo... I can't express how much Baku means to me, nor can I explain exactly why. She literally became a part of my soul. It was because of her that I became so hooked into this ratty obsession. She was the first member of my first group of rats, and she was the alpha rat. She took her job very seriously, and was not always the kindest leader to her ratty roommates, ruling them with an iron claw. She was usually very unfriendly to other people, giving them the cold shoulder. Yet she had always been a lovable charmer to me. Unlike most girls, she was very snuggly, and loved to be petted. She was my squishy little girl. She was very vocal, and had a very distinct squeak. She loved to wag her tail. Especially before a good pounce! She was the perfect rat, beautiful, and brilliant. Even though all of my rats are special to me, no one else can ever replace Baku's place in my heart. The Tragic Story of Baku's Death... Baku had been suffering from congestive heart failure for several weeks, but was managing to do well on the medication, and remained happy and comfortable. However the last three days before her death, everything changed. She was in miserable condition, she didn't even have the strength to barely crawl, she had little interest in food or water, and it was very hard for her to breath. My vet and I desperately tried different meds and doses, in an effort to once again help ease her symptoms. Nothing helped. I kept her with me night and day for those final three days, sleeping with her in the crook of my arm. She didn't want to be in her cage, and I didn't want her to be alone. Unfortunately, though, for an hour each evening, I would need to put her back in with Sumi, so I could shower, eat, and feed my other animals. The first two days she excepted this, but the last day, when I put her in, she panicked, and climbed up the wall of the cage trying to reach me (which was a real feat of strength in her weakened condition.) I quickly took her back out. I had had enough. She was suffering, and it looked like nothing I could do was going to change that. I made the decision to put her to sleep. Once made, I wanted it done quickly, so she didn't have to live in pain any longer than she had to. I carried her down stairs and called my vet. I told her I would pay anything to have her come over immediately and euthanize Baku at my home, so Baku would be most comfortable. My vet agreed. I ran upstairs, placed Baku on the bed, and raced around to throw on some clothes and run a comb through my hair. Baku was trying to drag herself across the bed to me, which broke my heart, so I tried to move even more quickly, so that I could get back to her right away. I locked the dog up, and returned for Baku. Wrapping her in a shirt, I ran down stairs so that I could be by the door when the doctor came. However, by the time I sat down to wait, and start comforting Baku again, I looked in horror as Baku took her final breath... I had missed it. Three days of being there, at her side, night and day, only to be absent those last final five minutes of her life. Instead of lovingly stroking her, telling her that I loved her as she quietly rested on my chest, providing her with the most comforting and peaceful environment as she passed on; she got to be thrown down on the middle of my bed, abandoned, left to watch me frantically run around, only to finally get tossed into a t-shirt, to be quickly bounced along, as I rushed to get her down stairs. Her last few minutes on this earth were lonely and horrible. I would give anything to get those five minutes back. I would do ANYTHING. But I can never have them back. Hindsight is 20 20. I saw that she was suddenly getting much much worse, as I rushed to and fro, but unfortunately I didn't pay enough attention to it for it to sink into my brain and think, "stop everything you fool and go be by her side." I accepted, and was prepared, for her passing on. At least as much as you can be for such a thing to happen. In fact, I was relieved that she did pass, because she was in so much pain. I just want those five minutes back. Just five minutes. To give her the ending to her life that she deserved. Just five minutes... Almost eight months earlier, I created a remembrance of my five girls, by imprinting their footprints all in clay, and framing the clay footprints behind glass. All five disks were firmly attached with hot glue. The day that Baku died, her disk had fallen from it's place... Pictures of My Boo... (click on a thumbnail below to see a larger version)