Our RAT'S $44 vet bill

The other night my son comes to me and by the look on his face, I assume his left arm had been ripped off of him and he couldn't find it. "What's WRONG?!" I asked him. "I ... " and then the dam breaks and he's crying. My mind is racing. "You WHAT?" I ask again. Through his tears, he tells me that he needs to find a new home for his rat. I asked why he thought that and still crying, tells me he hasn't played with it enough and because of it, thinks his rat's dying. We go to inspect it. There's red "holes" around it's shoulders and a huge lump up near it's front leg. I'm Filipino and so are my children (in case you were wondering) but my son suddenly looked albino. His "knowledge" about rats led him to believe it was bored because he hadn't played enough with it, so it was now eating itself. I hate rodents. I almost hate all animals. Not becaue I never loved them. I wanted to be a vet and considered myself a "dog whisperer" when I was my pre-child self. I even had a rat in college. It's just that now, I don't want to deal with things that eat themselves when they're bored. Or poop for that matter. I get to deal with enough poop as it is. But my poor child faulted himself for his rat's slow, but eventual, suicide. It's a freaking rat. A rodent. A pest. People kill them, snakes swallow them. And my son has one named Jasmine. GRRRRR!!! Can't I just stomp on it's head, toss it in the trash, and start all over? I mean, we already have the cage, bedding, water bottle and even a wheel. A rat's a rat and like gnats, they all need to die. So what do I do? I call the vet. The one near my house, first. "How much for a rat visit?" "That would be $48 for the visit, and then whatever medications he'd need." "It's a rat." "I know." "$50 for a rodent? And then there's MEDICATIONS?" "Yes." "Thanks!" And I hung up, more shocked than irritated. So I called another vet and she quoted me $23. It's only because $23 is less than $48, but I actually got excited. Then I decided to have a frank, 1-on-1 with the lady on the phone. "Really, it's a rat. What would you do for it?" "I actually have a rat. He's awesome! So sweet. You need to meet him!" "Ma'ma, we're talking about a rat, right?" (Chuckle) "Yeah, it's crazy, but it's true. I love him!" "So does my son, so I guess I'll make the appointment." I decided that I needed to make my son a part of the process, plus I didn't want to pick the rat up, so I picked him up from school to attend the proceedure. I dropped him off, waited in the car as he fetched "Jasmine" and we raced to the vet. I met the lady I had spoken to the day before and because she knew we were coming in, she brought "Scott" to work. "Scott" wasn't a rat. He was an overgrown guinea pig with a pink whip for a tail. Scott made me want to vomit. But she snuggled him, loved on him, and you know, I actually saw what she meant. He was a sweet rat. I bet, out in nature, there exist sweet spiders and friendly wasp larvae, but I really don't care. So we go see the vet. She's actually a friend of mine which made THAT part of the visit fun. She asked a bunch of questions and we realized what had happened. Jasmine had escaped from the kids and hid in the water heating vents we have all over our house. Apparently she had gotten burned. And one of the burns got infected. And the infection had abcessed (sp?) So guess what? They drained the lump. I couldn't watch, but the look on the assistant's face turned my stomach. She would gasp and say, "wow that's a lot of puss ... OH! Now THAT was a lot! Oh wow! It's green!" I wanted to leave and set the rat free in the woods. As the vet put the rat back, she noticed yet another lump. And before I knew it, she drained it right infront of me. I saw puss. I already am not a fan of rats. I'm a less fan of puss. Put the 2 together and it makes me cranky. But my son was beaming. He was so happy to know there was a "cure" for his rat, and also to know it wasn't his "fault." He was equally proud of his rat for not even biting at the vet or her assistant. At the counter, I prepared myself for the ridiculousness of paying a vet bill for a rat. "That's going to be $68." "SIXTY EIGHT!?!?!?!" (My immediate impulse was to return the rat and service, as if it was a pair of jeans. I've never spent $68 on a pair of jeans, either. I've never spent $68 really on anything besides a grochery bill or car repair.) I reminded her that Scott's owner had quoted me $23. Scott's owner came to the rescue. And dropped my bill to $44. Still too much for a rat. And we don't have $44. Matt's back in school. Student loans and help from family. That's it. We don't have $44 for a rat. So yeah, I put it on the Credit card. There was no other way to do it. But that was 8 hours ago. And if I could go back in time, I'd have done it again. I just felt that it was the right thing to do. It's so important that kids feel loved, validated, important. And really, in a large family, it's important that no one gets lost in the shuffle. So I feel that when an opportunity presents itself to literally spell out to my child, "You are important, your feelings are important, and I'm going to validate you," I'm going to do it. I tell my kids I love them every day. I hug them often, kiss them often, tell them they're great, tell them I'm proud of them. But at times, I do feel it's important to "walk the talk" if that makes sense. It was a $44 rat visit. But seeing how my child walked around today, going overboard to help me in the kitchen, going the extra mile by taking the trash out w/o me asking him. He even willingly cleaned his sister's chores and just seemed happy to do it, I feel like maybe he's doing these things because that rat visit made him feel important. It's been a good day actually. Now, if I see more "lumps", we'll be letting nature take it's course next time around. Cuz we can't be making these parent moments too much of a habit!!