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Rattie (I don't actually give them names) is definitely not herself. She's quiet
and happy to sit on my knee and do nothing.
The last time I popped her onto my shoulder, instead of holding on, she just lost
her grip and fell off. Fortunately not far and she was OK. But this isn't like
her...
So I've come to the conclusion that it's probably senility creeping in rather
than depression at being by herself all of a sudden. This is exactly how the male
went at Christmas.
This little brown one has always been one of my favourites and now she is the
last to survive from that litter of five. The bottom picture shows her as a baby
in February '98.
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