At the time I had three rats, Oscar, Felix and Luke. I was always taking Oscar and Felix with me on the road, so I needed a fourth to keep with Luke (or if I ever wanted to take Luke on the road, a companion), or another rat so I could take two with me and leave two at home. I didn't plan on getting Monty right away, but there I was at the Petco off Paramount avenue of Highway 60 (I'm not sure what town it is, just out of Los Angeles). I was simply buying some food for my rats, when glancing in the "feeder" bin, I saw a baby albino getting beat up by the other rats. One rat would knock him around, then another would jump in and take over.

The little rat didn't fight back too much. He mostly just laid there and took it. When they were done beating up on him, he'd simply run and play as if nothing happened. I couldn't leave this happy little guy there to get beat up on, or worse, fed to some snake. I bought him right there.

Right off the bat, Monty's three new step-brothers took to him. There was playing and wrestling but nothing violent. I'd wake up the next morning and all four rats would be lying together in one corner. I don't know how much Monty realized how his life had gotten better by being taken away from those rough-housing rats and from the snake bin, but he sure seemed happy. And that describes Monty. He's always been a happy, carefree little guy.

For about a month, everything was fine. Monty was starting to grow, which was a minor problem because he looked exactly like a smaller version of Oscar. I could see when they were the same size, I might have problems telling them apart. But like Oscar, Monty loved to play and loved humans. He was friendly with everyone.

One thing Monty would always do is, when I'd lie on my bed and the fella's were running around my room, Monty would climb on me, come up to my face and try to get in my mouth. I don't know if he thought there was something in there or what, but he'd always try and pry open my lips with his hands. It was hilarious.

One day when I opened the cage, I noticed Monty wasn't rushing out like everyone else did. He just kind of sat on his favorite shelf in the cage, half asleep. I pulled him out and put him on the carpet to run around.

And there it was.

He started running in circles. His head was bobbing back and forth and he kept falling down. He had no coordination at all. He was running all over. He wouldn't stay still for a second. The whole time his head was moving like a robot, back and forth, back and forth. I wondered what I should do for about a half hour. Finally, I decided I just couldn't let him go on like this, so I took him to the vet.

The vet I normally took my rats too was a little far away. I called all the vets near to me and found one that worked on rats (it was that particular doctor's last day there, so I was just in time). As I stood in the lobby, I held Monty. People were either repulsed, which was odd, or felt sad. The receptionist took Monty and kissed him and if she didn't have a ring on, I probably would have started hitting on her right there (hey, a lady who likes rats that much!).

I went to a room where the vet met Monty and confirmed what I had suspected. It was either a stroke or Monty had developed an ear infection. She said that I had to separate Monty from the others because if it was an ear infection, it could be airborne and the others could get it too. She gave Monty a shot (and did it on the side, saying that if they knew they would have charged me 50 bucks, which was extremely cool) and subscribed some medication for him.

I took Monty home and set him up in the 25 gallon tank that wasn't being used at the moment. I put everything in the tank that Monty liked. I had to give him that medication three times a day. I didn't know how I was going to do it since his head was bobbing so much. I tried putting in his food and administering it via syringe, but it didn't work. The medication was orange flavored. I realized that Monty liked oranges a lot, so if I just placed some on my finger, maybe he'd lick it off. That worked good. So three times a day I'd put the required amount on my finger and Monty would like it dry.

It was hard keeping the other rats out of Monty's cage. At the time I didn't have the covering I do now (where a handful of saved female mice are). I had mock covering which worked fine, but I had to set up every day. And it wasn't easy for Monty to see his buddies outside the glass a little every day and he couldn't come out and play with them. He would be alone all day and night, except for when I'd take him out and pet him (or try to pet him).

The thing was, I thought for sure he was going to die. His head had been bobbing so much and his coordination was so bad, I didn't think he would live another day. But each day I'd come out and when Monty would see me he'd jump up and down and get excited and wait for whatever treats I'd give him including the strange orange tasting liquid he licked off my finger.

Into the fourth week in isolation, it appeared that Monty was getting a little better as far as his head bobbing. He still had hardly any coordination, but other than that, he had been growing and eating and doing everything a normal rat does. I decided that it was in fact, a stroke he had had and not an ear infection. I figured it was time for him to be back with his step-brothers.

The others were running around my room, including the new rat Claude, who I had gotten when I thought Monty was going to die. Claude was the exact same size as Monty and I figured was just about the exact same age, give or take a few days.

Everyone got along great.

Monty was so damned excited to be around other rats again. Still, he ran all over the place and his head bobbed everywhere, but he played and wrestled and tumbled with his buddies and seemed just as happy as ever. I think a few times, because he couldn't judge timing or movement, he got a little rough with the others on accident. But there was never anything too rough. And Claude and Monty seemed to get along the best.

So Monty was back with his brethren, but again, he would still get in little fights. There'd be loud squeaking in the middle of the night. I had to be very careful with him around any small rats. I got Brooks (later to become Brook) and had to be very watchful of Monty over the small one. When the babies were born, there was no way I could have Monty anywhere near so he got put in a different cage. As the babies grew, I tried to put a supervised Monty with them to see how they'd react and there was nothing but fighting.

The end result is that Monty ended up getting his own cage. I keep it in the living room. It's normally for rabbits so it's pretty spacious, especially for one guy. But basically, since Monty doesn't stay still long enough to chew on one thing enough to cause any damage, I let him run around all day and night. When I'm home, I usually have Felix and sometimes Claude running around there too, and they're the only two rats who get along okay with Monty right now anyway. So he's not lonely. He spends most of his time sleeping in the little nest in the corner of the living room (originally made by Felix). He can climb in and out of the cage so water and food are always available.

I thought for sure when he initially had the stroke, he was going to die. Outside his minor handicap, he's had a great life. He's grown well, eats good and is a super happy little guy. Since I've kept him in his own cage, he hasn't been fighting or wrestling with his step-brothers that much, so his fur has come in very nice. If you looked at him sleeping, you'd think he was just a normal rat. I get a kick out of seeing him in the morning. When I wake up, I come out to check on him. He's always asleep, but as soon as he senses me near, he jumps up (does his little stretch and yawn thing) and happily comes out to play. He wants a treat so I get him a piece of cheese or wheat bread. I have found that he likes to be scratched on the right side of his face. He can't stand it on the left. Maybe because he doesn't feel that side, I'm not sure. Either way, he won't let you hold him too long anyway. He always has to be moving. But watching him run around the living room, doing that hop thing that rats do when they're happy, makes me happy. It's sad he had a stroke, but he's okay. He eats his peas and corn everyday and basically stays out of trouble, w