She never really had much of a show
career, being typically too dark for
an agouti due to her blue line
background, although she did come to
a couple of shows as a PR rat as she
was quite happy to be cuddled all
day!
She also decided not to become a
family lady, after several attempts
at mating her up, probably due to
being a typical fat agouti, bless
her!! She was a bit of a reluctant
auntie to Ffions babies when they
temporarily moved in with her before
going to their new homes, and she
was frequently found sitting in the
hammock with a resigned look on her
face and mad babies leaping on her!
Sadly, life for Nia hasn't been very
easy for the last few months, and
she developed malocclusion back in
September. She had them burred under
anaesthetic, but they grew back very
quickly. Tooth removal surgery was
considered at first, but poor Nia
had started to lose a fair bit of
weight, so my vet and I didn't want
to risk tricky surgery, so
fortnightly trims were really the
only option. She coped very well
with this, up until just before
Christmas, when she developed
co-ordination problems as well as
her teeth issues. She was diagnosed
with a pituitary tumour, and her
symptoms were managed very well for
a while with steroid injections, and
she soldiered on with a fairly
decent quality of life.
Unfortunately, the steroid shots
eventually stopped working and Nia
deteriorated to the point of falling
over and not being able to get up on
her own. I decided to call it a day
and gave my determined old lady a
helping hand
Sleep well brave girl...you fought
so hard, right until the end
Dylan Thomas - Do Not Go
Gentle Into That Good Night
Do not go gentle into that good
night,
Old age should burn and rave at
close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of
the light.
Though wise men at their end
know dark is right,
Because their words had forked
no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good
night.
Good men, the last wave by,
crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have
danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of
the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the
sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they
grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good
night.
Grave men, near death, who see
with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like
meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of
the light.
And you, my father, there on the
sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your
fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good
night.
Rage, rage against the dying of
the light.