My father used to live with me. He was terminally ill with Parkinsons, Alzheimers and later cancer. I got a pet rat for my foster son, who had been abused for the first 6 years of his life. The rat warmed up to both my "men" and them to him. Rattie grew very close to my father and loved sitting with him all the time.When Rattie got old and need to be euthanize, the vet immediately wrote out a "prescription" for another rat for my father to be filled at the pet shop across the road. This rat was even closer to my father. My father had to go into hospital for a short while and pined after his little friend so much that the doctors had us bring him for visiting. I think it was the first time a rat was actually welcomed at a hospital. It all had to be done on the quiet though. That was when my father started recovering enough to go home again.
The new rat, Rattie Jr., was only about a year old when my father passed away. He stopped eating and just lay in his cage. He didn’t want to play anymore either. Two weeks later to the day, Rattie Jr. joined my father. That was two years ago and I still get tears in my eyes.
My foster son is now my son and at age 13 doing so much better. He still loves rats with a passion and has developed a deep love for all animals, thanks to his wonderful introduction to Rattie.