July, 2000
(Monty Turns Two!)
"Why are you bothering me while I'm eating?"
Who could have ever guessed, back in August of 1998, that Monty would outlive all his counterparts two-fold, even three-fold? Little baby Monty, a spunky albino who was the fourth rat in the clan, so that the clan would be rounded out, would run up my shoulder, or if I was lying down, come right up to my face and lick my lips. He loved his cage mates and would constantly play with them, especially Oscar, his albino counterpart. He was your usual, playful happy little guy who showed no signs of anything wrong.
But one day when I was letting the rats out of their cage, I noticed little Monty was still lying on one of the shelves, not running out the cage door like he usually did when they were all allowed out. I pulled him out and placed him on the floor. He walked around in circles, his head bobbing back and forth and I realized he either had had a stroke, or had an ear infection. Right away, I took him to the vet and she confirmed my fears. She wasn’t sure which it was, but gave him a shot just in case it was an ear infection and had me separate him from the others for a week. A couple days into his seclusion, I was certain he wouldn’t last the week. His head bobbing and inability to walk straight made it seem certain he was going to die. He couldn’t stay still enough to sustain a long drink of water. I figured I would try and make his life as comfortable as I possibly could until he passed. Each day when I’d come out in the morning, I’d figure I’d see his carcuss lying in his tank. But each morning, there he was, head still bobbing, but ready to come out and play.
Monty enjoys his corn. He goes to his cage even when he doesn't
have to be.
I felt bad that the gregarious Monty was by himself so much, so I figured I’d buy a friend for him and when he did pass, I’d put the friend in with the others, kind of as a replacement for Monty. I got Claude at the same store I had gotten Luke and put him with Monty in the 25 gallon tank he was living in. The two got along really well. They were about the same age and liked each other a lot.
And as each day went by, I still awaited Monty’s passing and each day I’d come out and Monty was still kicking, head bobbing, but happy and playful. I’d come out to see Monty and Claude playing like two long lost brothers, neither aware of Monty’s condition. Finally after almost two weeks, I knew it was a stroke he had and not an ear infection and I realized it was pointless to keep him seperated from the others. So I moved both Claude and Monty back into the main cage.
His favorite place: under the recliner.
Monty wasn’t running in circles any more like he was that first day, but his head was still bobbing all over the place and he couldn’t climb anything because he had no coordination. But outside that, he was totally fine. He loved being back with this step-brothers and now the five of them were all together and all getting along great. In fact, I’ve never had a better set of rats than I did with those five (Oscar, Felix, Luke, Monty & Claude). Monty continued to grow with the rest and finally I realized that he wasn’t going to die from his stroke. His head bobbing got a little less frantic as the days went by, but never totally went away.
As time went by, the males were starting to get fixed, and Monty was fighting with everyone. He had a bit of a temper as he got older and I finally seperated him when everyone was fixed but him. I kept planning on getting him fixed but for whatever reason, it never happened. And one-by-one, Monty’s step-brothers passed away. First the great Oscar, then Claude, later Felix and Luke and other rats in between.
Monty became the living room rat. He had a nice cage under one of my desks. Since he was by himself, and really liked it that way, I would let him out of the cage the whole time I wasn’t home. So if I was out all day, Monty pretty much had the place to himself. Each morning when I get up, I’d open Monty’s cage, he stand still for a moment so I could give him his morning back scratch, then head straight to his dish of corn, which he would devour.
When he's out, he can do pretty much what he wants,
but he still spends half his free time in his cage. He loves that cage.
This has basically been the practice now for over a year. He comes out, eats his corn, then prances around the place from wall to wall, as if to say “it’s good to be out. This place is mine.” I’ve never had a rat who was so happy. He comes over to my feet and attempts to play with them as if to say “give me treats.” He loves his corn and crackers and cheese. Felix was the one who initially started storing stuff under my recliner, but it’s Monty who has made it his. I’ve had to clean out the bottom of that chair so many times because Monty puts everything under there; treats, garbage he finds, clothes I stupidly leave out, wrappers, anything he can find.
When the other rats are out, Monty has to go back into his cage.
It’s under my desk and covered by a couple towels, so the only real way
to see inside is if you bend down and look in the front. But sometimes
Mickey, or Cheetah or Hannah get to run around the living room and those
three, Mickey especially, love to harass Monty. Mickey gets on the
top of the cage and manages to pull 
the
towell away to where she can access Monty through the top of the cage.
She can’t get in or do any harm because there is, after all, a cage between
them, but she tries her damnedest. Monty squeels and Mickey’s fur
raises as she tries to start something, but nothing comes of it because
they’re seperated. But I think Monty really gets the last laugh
because he’s out of his cage eight to ten hours a day, sometimes more,
whereas Mickey gets out a couple hours a day.
And occassionally Monty gets her back. I have a barrier up when he’s out, a piece of plywood that blocks the living room from the hallway (and my bedroom). But there have been times when Monty was able to get through. He goes into my room and up to their cage. If I’m home and I catch him, it’s because I’ll hear all the squeeling coming from my room. There have been times when I got home and found Monty sleeping by my bed, which means he had been harassing the other rats and just got tired. It’s pretty funny.
So Monty reaches two years of age. It’s amazing, that out of all the rats I’ve had over the last two years and a half, I haven’t had any rats reach two. And of all the rats I’ve had, Monty would have been the last one you would have guessed to get that far. Now, he’s the first one you’d guess to make it to three. I see no signs of the big guy slowing down. He’s still super active. He loves his treats and his corn and he loves to run around. His head still bobs all over the place and he can’t climb anything steep, but that doesn’t stop him from living a full life. He loves a good back scratch. He doesn’t chew up anything. In fact, he really keeps his poo to two spots in the living room for easy cleaning (the thoughtful little guy). He comes when I call him, even when he knows it’s time to go back in the cage. He’s the house watchdog. When people come over, they are amazed at what a great pet he is. Monty is one of the all time great pets, a perfect example of why rats are such good pets.
Monty loves a good scratch. He'll sit there until you get tired.
So let Monty be your example. If you get a rat who has a stroke,
don’t assume that’s the end. No rat has had a greater life than the
Monster. You can bet he’ll be around this time next year too.