Hamlet Kenneth Rat

12/96-7/21/98

It was January of '96, and I was visiting my aunt in New York. We were discussing our plans for that day, and she out of nowhere blurted out "Let's go to a four hour presentation of HAMLET!" My first reaction was of course, "Huh?" I had never even heard of Hamlet, but apparently someone had decided that it would be a cool idea to turn the Shakespearean play Hamlet into a movie, and it just so happened to be 4 hours long. The 2 main characters were Kate Winslet (Ophelia) and Kenneth Branaugh (Hamlet). Kenneth was SO cute (at the time) that I decided right then to name my next rat after him. Well, after the character he played.

It was later in January, and my mom and I were at a local pet store. In small wire cages labeled "Hamsters" were about 5 young male albino rats. I, to this day, still don't know why my mom let me get another rat, but she just stood back and didn't object while I chose one from the mass of wriggling rattie boys in the cage.

Hamlet was such a scaredy rat, and I never blamed him. He had almost never been held by human hands, so being cared for by someone who truly loved him was a completely new concept for him. When I first brought him home, I set him on my bed (he was in the little box the pet store gave me to carry him in) while I set up his cage. He was given the opportunity to wander around and explore, but he never moved an inch. I took that opportunity to check out his eyes. Being an albino, he had reddish eyes that gleamed and sparkled in the right light, and I had never before seen anything like them!

For the first week after I got Hamlet, he would not leave his box (which I had placed in his cage) as long as I was present. Even after he got up the nerve to venture out into the open, he would dart back to the safety of his box if there was a loud, sudden noise - like the radio being turned on, or air molecules bumping into each other. Little by little, I befriended him by offering him scrumptious treats like dry cereal or carrots. After what seemed like years, he would, like a little gentleman, take the treat out of my hand and rush off to enjoy it in peace. The day finally came when I reached my fingers around his fuzzy belly and held him. He sat in my hands, scared to death, until I tried lifting him OUT of the cage, and then he (very politely) jumped out of my hands to the floor of my cage. (It took him awhile to perfect his landings.)

Eventually I was able to hold Hamlet outside of his cage, though he was always skittish, and never relaxed in my arms. He had himself convinced that the moment he let his guard down something horrible would happen, so he was always kind of a nervous guy. But oh, he loved Tempelton. After he and I became better aquainted, I introduced him to Tempelton and tried to breed them, because they were both such sweeties. I wanted little Hampeltons. When they met, it was love at first sight.

For Hamlet, anyways. He had never before met a girl! Tempelton was his first and only love! Of course, she didn't exactly have those same feelings for him. On their 3rd or 4th session together, she expressed her true feelings for him. She bit a half inch gash in his neck. Afterwords he huddled in a corner of his cage while Tempelton made herself at home. I think the reason she acted like that was because Tempelton was too old to have kids- and she knew it. Needless to say, I never put them together again. But little old Hamlet never forgot her...he never even went for Kiki! From the day they met to the day he died, Hamlet had the hots for Tempelton. I'm sure they are both happy on the Rainbow Bridge right now.

One summer night later that year it was about three in the morning, and I couldn't sleep. I picked Hamlet up and...how do I describe this? He had been sleeping, so I woke him up. He sat calmly in my arms and after about a half hour fell asleep while I stroked his shoulders and back. He had never before been that calm and affectionate in my presence, let alone while I held him! It was a big turning point in Hamlet and my relationship. After that, Hamlet turned into a sweetie pie - ESPECIALLY during the time Tempelton was at the vet having her tumor removed. I was so worried that she would die. I just cradled Hamlet because I felt he was about to become my only rat. He didn't; Tempelton survived and lived for many months - but over those two nights the bond between Hamlet and me grew stronger than it ever would. (I know, some of you are beginning to wonder if Hamlet was really just a rat...well, to me there's no such thing as "just a rat!")

A few months before he died, Hamlet developed a large sore on his right hind foot. It grew very large, and one day when we were at the vet's office and he (the vet) was trying to take a sample of whatever was in the sore, when it burst out bleeding! We guessed that the sore was very close to a vein, because it just bled and bled and BLED until the vet did that little fuse-the-blood-vessel-shut trick, and it stopped. After that, any time the scab over his sore was moved in the slightest bit, it would burst out bleeding. And when I say "burst," I mean it! Once, back when he was on medication for his foot sore and we were going on a weekend trip up north to Duluth, MN, we took him with us so he could continue getting his medicine. He started bleeding before we left town - before we had even shut the car doors. I to this day am surprised that one little rat body could hold that much blood. We had to stop at a Fleet Farm and get some vet wraps for his foot, because we were sure he wasn't going to make it through the trip! I left him in the car with my sister while we ran into the store, but by the time we got back out to the car, Hamlet's foot had stopped bleeding. The pair of jeans I was wearing that day had been subject to a few spatters of Hamlet's blood, and it was years before I could bring myself to throw those pants away.

One day we were on our way to the vet's again to try something new for Hamlet's foot, and he started bleeding in the car. By the time we got to the vet's it had stopped, but my white T-shirt was soaked in his blood (see the picture to the right). The vet told us that Hamlet was looking pretty pale, even for an albino, and losing so much blood so often was very dangerous to his health. We made a pretty tough decision that afternoon...we left him there that night, and the next day he had that leg amputated. It was the only thing left we could do. The vet told me he couldn't do surgery on the foot alone, because there is so little skin available on rattie feet, and with Hamlet's skin stretched to accommodate the sore, there was even less. Hamlet was doing pretty well after the surgery, and after I brought him home he managed to leap up on the bars of his cage with only one hind foot! I don't think he quite understood what had happened, but he didn't seem to mind his missing limb or his purple stitches. I admired him for that. He seemed to enjoy cuddling more than ever, and was happy to lie on my bed while I would scratch him behind the ears or stroke his cheek. He would usually choose to lie on his left side, leaving his stitches exposed to the air. I don't know if that was because they hurt him or not. Whenever I touched them it creeped me out, but he would just look at me as if to say, "What's your problem?"

Here is a picture of Hamlet lying on his side, but it is not a very good view of his stitches. He always tried to get his weight off those stitches, and I worried constanly that they hurt him. After he had them removed, he still preferred to lie on his left side.

Here is a GREAT picture of Hamlet's "owwie." After his surgery, he never minded anyone touching his bald spot, but he would never lie on it. I guess I can understand that. If you were to break your arm and have it in a cast, you wouldn't mind if people touched it, but you certainly wouldn't want to sleep on it. I (for some reason) reversed this picture back when I scanned it in, so it looks like his stitches were on his left side, but they weren't.

About two weeks later I went away to a week-long camp down south. Hamlet died halfway through that week. Apparently he went in his sleep, at a time when he felt safe and secure. It was quite a shock to me- I have been to that camp 5 years in a row, and that had been my 3rd and best year. On the last day my mom and sister came to pick me up, and I, brimming with stories and ideas, couldn't wait to hear about everything that had gone on during the week. The first thing that came out of my mouth was "How are the rats?" The quick glance my sister sent towards my mom told me everything I needed to know. I just asked a despairing "When?" and cried the whole way home. My mom and sister had buried him under a walnut tree in our backyard, and several various plants have since sprouted over the area where his body lies. They also took a picture of him, in the position he was in when they found him dead. For some reason, that picture helped me accept his death. It helped me understand that he really was gone, so I didn't always remember him as being alive, then suddenly gone. Words can not express how sweet he was, but with this web page I have shared Hamlet's story with you, and now you will remember my sweetie pie too. Always treasure your family, friends and pets, because surprises are what they are- surprises.

In January of 1999 Hamlet won a place on the front cover of the Rat and Mouse Gazette. Click here to see it.

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	Hamlet was such a scaredy rat, and I never blamed him. He had almost never been held by human hands, so being cared for by someone who truly loved him was a completely new concept for him. When I first brought him home, I set him on my bed (he was in the little box the pet store gave me to carry him in) while I set up his cage. He was given the opportunity to wander around and explore, but he never moved an inch. I took that opportunity to check out his eyes. Being an albino, he had reddish eyes that gleamed and sparkled in the right light, and I had never before seen anything like them!
For the first week after I got Hamlet, he would not leave his box (which I had placed in his cage) as long as I was present. Even after he got up the nerve to venture out into the open, he would dart back to the safety of his box if there was a loud, sudden noise - like the radio being turned on, or air molecules bumping into each other. Little by little, I befriended him by offering him scrumptious treats like dry cereal or carrots. After what seemed like years, he would, like a little gentleman, take the treat out of my hand and rush off to enjoy it in peace. The day finally came when I reached my fingers around his fuzzy belly and held him. He sat in my hands, scared to death, until I tried lifting him OUT of the cage, and then he (very politely) jumped out of my hands to the floor of my cage. (It took him awhile to perfect his landings.)
	Eventually I was able to hold Hamlet outside of his cage, though he was always skittish, and never relaxed in my arms. He had himself convinced that the moment he let his guard down something horrible would happen, so he was always kind of a nervous guy. But oh, he loved Tempelton. After he and I became better aquainted, I introduced him to Tempelton and tried to breed them, because they were both such sweeties. I wanted little Hampeltons. When they met, it was love at first sight.
For Hamlet, anyways. He had never before met a girl! Tempelton was his first and only love! Of course, she didn't exactly have those same feelings for him. On their 3rd or 4th session together, she expressed her true feelings for him. She bit a half inch gash in his neck. Afterwords he huddled in a corner of his cage while Tempelton made herself at home. I think the reason she acted like that was because Tempelton was too old to have kids- and she knew it. Needless to say, I never put them together again. But little old Hamlet never forgot her...he never even went for Kiki! From the day they met to the day he died, Hamlet had the hots for Tempelton. I'm sure they are both happy on the Rainbow Bridge right now.
	One summer night later that year it was about three in the morning, and I couldn't sleep. I picked Hamlet up and...how do I describe this? He had been sleeping, so I woke him up. He sat calmly in my arms and after about a half hour fell asleep while I stroked his shoulders and back. He had never before been that calm and affectionate in my presence, let alone while I held him! It was a big turning point in Hamlet and my relationship. After that, Hamlet turned into a sweetie pie - ESPECIALLY during the time Tempelton was at the vet having her tumor removed. I was so worried that she would die. I just cradled Hamlet because I felt he was about to become my only rat. He didn't; Tempelton survived and lived for many months - but over those two nights the bond between Hamlet and me grew stronger than it ever would. (I know, some of you are beginning to wonder if Hamlet was really just a rat...well, to me there's no such thing as "just a rat!")

One day we were on our way to the vet's again to try something new for Hamlet's foot, and he started bleeding in the car. By the time we got to the vet's it had stopped, but my white T-shirt was soaked in his blood (see the picture to the right). The vet told us that Hamlet was looking pretty pale, even for an albino, and losing so much blood so often was very dangerous to his health. We made a pretty tough decision that afternoon...we left him there that night, and the next day he had that leg amputated. It was the only thing left we could do. The vet told me he couldn't do surgery on the foot alone, because there is so little skin available on rattie feet, and with Hamlet's skin stretched to accommodate the sore, there was even less. Hamlet was doing pretty well after the surgery, and after I brought him home he managed to leap up on the bars of his cage with only one hind foot! I don't think he quite understood what had happened, but he didn't seem to mind his missing limb or his purple stitches. I admired him for that. He seemed to enjoy cuddling more than ever, and was happy to lie on my bed while I would scratch him behind the ears or stroke his cheek. He would usually choose to lie on his left side, leaving his stitches exposed to the air. I don't know if that was because they hurt him or not. Whenever I touched them it creeped me out, but he would just look at me as if to say, "What's your problem?"
	Here is a picture of Hamlet lying on his side, but it is not a very good view of his stitches. He always tried to get his weight off those stitches, and I worried constanly that they hurt him. After he had them removed, he still preferred to lie on his left side.
Here is a GREAT picture of Hamlet's "owwie." After his surgery, he never minded anyone touching his bald spot, but he would never lie on it. I guess I can understand that. If you were to break your arm and have it in a cast, you wouldn't mind if people touched it, but you certainly wouldn't want to sleep on it. I (for some reason) reversed this picture back when I scanned it in, so it looks like his stitches were on his left side, but they weren't.