Chloe and Jackie

I bought a rat for my seventh grade science fair project and named her Chloe. She was black on her head and shoulders and white everywhere else. I kept her and actually taught her some tricks; running across my outstretched arm, standing up when held my fingers above her head, and almost could make her fetch sunflower seeds. She died my freshman year. I think it was my fault. I didn't think Chloe was that old, but I suddenly noticed one night that she was rather thin, and lying immobile next to her wheel. Guilty thoughts raced through my mind as I struggled to recall when I last fed her; it had to be the night before. In hindsight she was almost 3 years old which is the typical life span. What follows is semi-embarrassing, because some might say she's just a rat. She was still breathing, so I took some of her food, crushed it up and mixed it with a little water then tried to make her eat it. It was no-go, and a bit panicy at this point I called my mom to come downstairs and help me. My mom didn't really have any other ideas. Then, I heard Chloe exhale her last breath, and it rattled as it left her body. I've always thought death rattles were only an expression, but to witness one is chilling. In my hands, her warm little body went cold then stiff. I now knew what it felt like to have something die in my hands. Chloe now felt as stiff as the rats we dissected in middle school.

A similarly guilty experiance happened with a filly I had named Jackie. I recall the morning I last saw her alive, not really seeing her since I just blindly put her feed in the pan. If I would have looked, I might have noticed that Jackie had a bleeding gash on her neck. When I got home from school, I didn't care to check on her, and went inside. My dad came back from work and said that Jackie was dead in the pasture. I went out and looked at her, lying in the middle of the pasture with her tounge sticking out and felt terrible. Staring at her as my brother and my dad talked, I heard them saying that she must have been bleeding a long time, almost since that morning. Remembering where she was standing when I fed her, I went over to that fence by the pan, and could see it was generously smeared with blood. I must have been standing right next to her when she was bleeding to death, and walked to the bus.