It’s been just over a month now since Bianca the rat, one of the sweetest and bravest animals I’ve ever known, passed away. (It was August 16th, to be precise). I haven’t yet written anything about it, unlike when Thomas passed; not because it wasn’t important, but because I was processing. The span of Bianca’s life enveloped a tumultuous time in my own, and I have spent time thinking about that. And about her. And about Rooh, her sister, who actually passed away last November. I didn’t write then either; I was in an even darker place. But Rooh…oh, what a pure and happy soul. A true gift, both of them. I was grateful for every moment of time I got to spend with them.

Animals have a sense of pureness to them that you seldom see in a human; our lives and actions tend towards complexity, staining our metaphorical souls with metaphorical muck. We’re not intrinsically evil, mind you, just impure. Animals seem to avoid that; even though they can have a huge personality and feel like a person in your life, they don’t accumulate the drama, self-rationalizations, and pain that can come from being a human. They follow their nature, and when you are lucky (as I have been more than once), you end up with a little friend and life companion that loves you, no matter what. They don’t manipulate; they don’t judge. They’re just there, offering up unconditional love and support.

*shake* OK, I’ll try to avoid the rathole of Ken’s Pop Psychology 101. *grin* Death tends to make me maudlin.

I miss them both more than I can say. It’s bizarre to think that you could love a rat (and hairless ones to boot!) as much as I did those two dear creatures. But things happen.

Farewell, Rooh and Bianca (left to right below). I love you both.