Tabitha is an agouti dumbo, who came to us from Lucie Mann. It is difficult to describe her adequately, or the passion I feel in my heart for her; she is rattie perfection. As with all does she is active and inquisitive, eager to get out of the cage and explore, and with a particular obsession for investigating bin bags. Pick her up and she transforms into a soft, malleable bundle of gentleness, just as eager to be cuddled and to explore me, licking my fingers, gently opening my mouth to see if there's anything in there that rightfully belongs to her. At that point I try not to think too much about the bin bags! To me agoutis are beautiful, dumbos are wonderful - and Tabitha has it all.

We brought her into our family to begin our dumbo line, and on the 30th September, 2001 she produced 17 little ratlets to the Greek God of dumbos - Eli (who came from Estelle Sandford). The ratlets grew into ratties and went to their new homes - I didn't keep any knowing that I fully intended to breed from her again...

The morning of Wednesday 30th January, 2002 began as any ordinary day, in fact it was extraordinarily full of expectation; Tabitha's kittens were due either that day or the next. I looked in on her often that morning, buried deep in a spectacular nest in the nursery tank. A rotound, sleepy rat greeted me and licked my hand. By the afternoon there seemed to be no sign of babies, and I felt it safe to go out for a few hours. On returning at teatime I found a little blood on the bedding, but no sign of kittens, and no obvious contractions. Swimming in unfamiliar waters I picked up my online security blanket and chatted to anyone with more experience that I could find. The advice seemed to be if she's not distressed and there is no more bleeding, wait and see how things progress. She wasn't, and there wasn't - so I did. A restless night (me not Tabitha, who seemed vaguely bemused at the nocturnal visits of her bleary eyed human) brought no change or progress, and I made an appointment to take her in to see our vet. Sadly, before the appointment time arrived she gave birth to 8 perfectly formed, stillborn babies. How we both cried... Ever the perfect rattie, she cleaned them up, gathered them to her and gave them her warmth, somehow certain that if she just loved them enough they would live for her... two hours passed, dragging their feet.

Still she was unwilling to leave her nest full of still, cold babes and I couldn't bear to take them from her and leave her alone, without hope.

On the other side of the rat room, in another nursery cage lay Vashti sleepily nursing 8 large plump 11 day old kittens... an idea skipped through my mind. Maybe, just maybe.

I took Tabitha out for a cuddle and quickly swapped the 8 Tabitha babes for 4 from Vashti's litter, rubbing them over Tabitha's tummy to transfer smells as I went. Then I put Tabitha back and waited. Time stood still. Four plump, velvety, blind babies peeped for their warm milky paradise; Tabitha sniffed, then licked, then lay down to feed. I hadn't extinguished her grief but I knew that I had eased it. Despite nursing the 'big' babies constantly, it seemed that the whole terrible experience had interfered with normal milk production, and it was obvious that the babies were getting little or no milk as the hours went by. I knew in my heart that I couldn't take 'her' babies away from her for a second time, so the only thing I could think of to do was swap. The Vashti 4 were scent rubbed and swapped with the Tabitha 4, (Tabitha and Vashti normally live together and are great friends) and all settled to nurse quietly. This swapping continued two or three times a day for a few days until I took courage in both hands and put all the babies in together with both mums.

After some initial baby gathering ("I'm sure these babies are all mine!") from Vashti they settled down to a mutually symbiotic relationship. Vashti did all the nursing, while Tabitha did all the cleaning and cuddling. All seemed totally happy with the outcome... I know I felt it was a good as it could be given the circumstances. I was left with one gaping hole in my heart though, just about the size and shape of a Tabitha baby.

Enter toyah and Tabicat, a mink dumbo doe from Tabitha's first litter. In a gesture of great generosity toyah said she could come back home, and help us to continue Tabitha's line.

Tabicat's babies were born on March 11th 2002, and a lovely platinum doe has gone to live with toyah. So we've come full circle and a wonderful line is saved. The story wouldn't be quite complete without adding that experience is a great teacher...

After Tabitha's babies died I trawled the net for information on this sort of problem, trying to make sense of what had happened. I now believe that Tabitha began labour with that first little show of blood, however, without normal contractions it didn't progress and the babies died. In February Linda and Kelly were faced with an identical situation, their Topaz dumbo Whispa had bled a little and not produced any babies after a couple of hours. I went round and we agreed that there seemed to be no contractions. After four hours Linda phoned her vet and asked her to supply us with a dose of Oxytocin that I could administer at their house (we felt that moving Whispa a this stage would only exacerbate any problems she was having). Thankfully, their excellent vet agreed and we were able to give the Oxytocin in the quiet of their own home. Contractions began and the labour progressed normally with Whispa producing 12 healthy kittens. We all live and learn.