Last year I picked up three little rats from my local pet store. They were all so adorable. We realised Rodney, the smallest and skinniest of them, had some problems. He would never go out when we put the cage outside in the run, he wouldn’t socialise, and he had a constant sneeze and lung problem. These began to develop, and he was put to sleep yesterday. After the lung problem, his skin began to get scabby and he started to lose fur. We took him to the vet multiple times over these issues but the medicine never worked and it was extremely expensive. He lost an eye, it became all white and misty, and the treatment prescribed never worked. After this we kept helping him and giving him love. Two days ago, he got a large abscess on his cheek. We took him to the vet where he broke the news. Months and months back he must have got into a fight with one of his friends, and they bit him, causing all of these problems. The surgery needed would remove half his face because the puss and bone needed to be removed. The surgeon told us it would cost £350. The price was hefty and we knew he still would suffer with half his face missing. We thought ending his suffering was the best thing. We put him to sleep, and I cried my eyes out. The surgeon asked if I wanted to watch, which I stupidly declined and now regret. My mum was crying too, I think even the surgeon started to tear up. “Goodnight fellow friend”, those were the last words I told him. What makes the situation even more eye-watering is the fact that he was completely oblivious. Not a care in the world. That was Rodney’s last day on Earth. His ashes were placed under a flower. Goodnight my fellow friend, I hope somewhere up there your life is a little better.