Learning from Raven: The Veterinary Care Experience
Everything you read here is real and happened within weeks of writing this. While the content in this article may be raw and disturbing, I hope you learn as much as I did.
About Raven
Finding Raven
Raven is a Syrian hamster I bought from a breeder and owned for about 1 ½ years. Before I start, let me introduce her. I searched for breeders, finding one which seemed ethical and open to questions, so I got on the wait list. At last, I received the first pick. All the hamster pups were adorable. A black one, orange and white with a long coat, and 3 others. But one stood out. She was black and white with an adorable little white star on her face. Both me and my boyfriend agreed, and we told the breeder our choice.
It was an 8 hour drive, round trip. We arrived at a house in a pleasant neighborhood. After a text, the breeder came out holding a carrier and food bag. To prevent more stress than necessary, we moved her to our travel carrier, and I paid. $75 for the hamster and food. After leaving, I peeked inside the clear wall. From the tissue box hide, two eyes peered at me. I smiled, “Hello, Raven.”
Her Personality
Her favorite treats were flax, baby star puffs, and mealworms, and she preferred staying in her cage, but I didn’t mind. We had a big play area for when she wanted out. There was a dog bowl sand bath she dug around in every time. A foraging wall made from deep corrugated cardboard, she quickly learned to check and reach inside for treats. A maze she decided was best for sleeping in and chewing on instead of running through, as Jess, my other hamster who is always separate, discovered. A pile of little fleece blankets, whose folds were so fun to explore. Another pile of cardboard cup holders, which had many treats to sniff out. And a box of blue crinkle paper she initially had no interest in.
I had to pick her up and set her down in the box. Sniff, sniff…. Wait, what’s that? And with brief hesitation, she dug down, disappearing into the paper. From the surface, the paper shook around as she moved, finding all the treats hidden within. After a couple minutes, her head popped up at the edge, cheeks stuffed with treats. She looked at me, eyes gleaming. I grinned back, “See? You’ve been missing out!” After that, she checked the foraging box every time.
A Smart Hamster
We also worked out an agreement between me, my boyfriend, and Raven. She often disliked being outside her cage, so she always got a treat when she went back. And boy, did she hold us to it! If we forgot, she would sit at the front of the cage, staring at us. One time it went on for over half an hour before we figured out why. We forgot her treat! Feeling guilty, I went over and let her stuff her cheeks with treats, a rare occasion. Once she felt justice was served enough, Raven took off for her hide with the bounty.
The Change
As time went on, she seemed to hide under the bedding more and more. We didn’t think too much of it. The change was very gradual. I figured maybe we were bringing her out too much, and she needed longer to recharge. So, the next few times, I gave her some treats and maybe a pet or two instead of putting her in the play area.
One day when she came up for water I noticed her fur was puffed, she was walking oddly; a hunched back, and her fur seemed unkempt instead of well groomed and shiny, as she always kept it. Concerned, I sat down next to the cage, opening it when she finished drinking. I picked her up and gave her a health check. Eyes, maybe slightly dehydrated, not bad. I flipped her over. She had a wet butt, but no sign of poop. That’s not normal, even when she pees she never has wet fur there. So I set a vet appointment with our local clinic for the next day.
Vet Visits
First Vet
Unfortunately, I couldn’t go due to work, so the appointment events are from what my boyfriend told me during and after. The appointment made it obvious this veterinary office was not equipped to handle exotics.
They said Raven was too small for an X-ray. I believe a more accurate phrase is this: they lack an X-ray for exotic pets. Taking a rectal temperature was impossible. The tip of their thermometer was bigger than her poops! They tried to do an ultrasound but could not find her bladder. I later found out their ultrasound was the size meant for humans. They had to pull a very old scale from storage to take her weight. Previously, they had to ask me for the weights I took during health checks because their scale wouldn’t go below a pound. My guess is they forgot about the smaller scale until recently.
They said they didn’t think it was a condition called wet tail. It couldn’t be wet tail, she was 1.5 years old and wet tail only occurs in Syrians under 12 weeks old. Many people use wet tail as an umbrella term for all diarrhea, but this leads to many misdiagnoses and a high mortality rate from improper treatment. Wet tail is very specifically proliferative ileitis, according to my vet tech friend whom I was constantly asking questions during this time. The vet, considering the possibility in the first place, was a red flag. Any vet experienced in exotic animals and hamsters would know it’s a waste of precious time. I overlooked a few of these issues before with my hamsters Sora and Quinn, but now their ineptitude was too glaringly obvious.
Mistakes, Mistakes
The vet told my boyfriend they believed it was a UTI, or urinary tract infection, and sent him home with instructions for a urine catch to get a urine test. They preferred gathering the urine directly from the bladder with a needle, but once again could not. The needle was too large, and they couldn’t guide it with ultrasound. When I arrived home, I collected the sample and brought it in the next day. They did the test while I was there, returning with the results. They didn’t find any bacteria, but wouldn’t give antibiotics if they did because the surface she peed on could contaminate the urine. Basically, the test was pointless because if they found something, they would do nothing, and if they didn’t, they would still do nothing.
I had to press them for pain meds, which I got. Just because hamsters hide their pain, not showing it like cats and dogs do, doesn’t mean they don’t need pain meds. My friend told me it’s better to get them because under the chance she wasn’t hurting, and I’m sure she was, the meds would not hurt her. The vet recommended I give it to her for 10 days and see how she does after we run out, then bring her in if she hasn’t improved.
Refusing to treat a possible UTI in a hamster is terrible, even with uncertainty, because in humans they recommend treating within the first two days. If left untreated, the infection spreads to the bladder, then into the bloodstream and other organs, causing organ failure and death. Not giving pain meds until I pressed was equally bad, because UTIs are painful even in humans, but they told my boyfriend it wasn’t! Hamsters will refuse to eat or drink properly when they are in pain, and if it is on a body part like a paw or tail, they may try to chew it off to make it stop. Not giving pain meds means she would go downhill quicker from lack of self care.
One Thing Right
The vet’s sole accurate advice was to go to an animal hospital an hour away. Because it was a Saturday, I thought I had to wait a couple of days to make the appointment. I later discovered they were open 24/7. My boyfriend tried to give her pain meds, but he said she looked like she wanted to bite him, so he waited for me to come home. With a tough love mindset, I prepped the needleless syringe with the meds, teased her out of her hide, held her up and mouth open with a scruff, and squeezed the med into her mouth. Her eyes showed irritation, but as soon as the flavor hit her tongue, it gave way to a happy shine and she started nibbling and licking at the syringe, wanting more. I grinned. “I didn’t need to do all that now, did I?” That night she was more active, eating and drinking more, showing the benefit of the pain meds. The next day, when it came time, I teased her out again and offered the syringe. She gave it a sniff, then happily lapped it up, nibbling and trying to get more again.
The Animal Hospital
When I called Monday, the animal hospital recommended an emergency, same day appointment. Once again, I couldn’t go because of work, so my boyfriend brought her. They recommended Care Credit, which I signed up for and got the credit line requested available immediately. Again, what I write here is from what my boyfriend told me over text and phone.
The next couple of hours were waiting, wondering how it was going, hoping it was going okay. My boyfriend mentioned his concern about the lack of updates. I responded, a lack of updates is probably a good thing at this point. My thoughts were there must be nothing bad to report yet, and they had to focus. It didn’t take as long as they predicted. They only needed to do a Xray to find the problem. It was not a UTI or a URI, it was worse.
The Diagnosis
The only options left were to bring her home or have her put to sleep. If we brought her home, she would be drugged to the gills, and eventually it would not be enough to ease her pain. She would still die in two weeks, the vets estimated. If we let nature do it, she would inevitably suffer. In my mind, that was not an option. I would blame myself, because I would have chosen to make her suffer just to hold off my own pain. It’s selfish and cruel. I debated whether to see her one last time, hold her one last time… Let her come home for the night and send her off tomorrow… But that would be selfish, too, because there is no guarantee we could get her in tomorrow. Also, if we waited, we would have to send her to the inept vet. How could I know for sure they would do it painlessly? I couldn’t. The best option for Raven was to have her euthanized at the animal hospital, with me still at work. To take her pain and hold it, so it will not hurt her anymore. I consented, and the phone call ended soon after.
The Aftermath
When my boyfriend picked me up, he told me a student didn’t feel right putting Raven back in her carrier, so he put her in a cardboard burial box. He said many people there were sympathetic, treating the loss as if he lost a human. The vets and students were very kind as well. A letter arrived in the mail a week later with their sympathies and names on it. Still, it didn’t feel right for us to bury Raven in a cardboard box. When we got home, my boyfriend moved her to something more suitable. Inside, he created a nest of cotton balls, a luxury which wasn’t safe while she lived, and put her in the freezer until she could be buried.
A few people were cruel, however. One lady suggested we flush Raven down the toilet, alive, instead of treating her. Just because she was a hamster, and the lady had a dog or something she deemed of “higher value.” She better be glad I wasn’t there, because I have no tolerance for it. To make a point, I would have suggested she do the same to her pet in a suitably sized toilet. When she reacted negatively, I would have asked why it was any different to her suggesting to flush our Raven. I don’t put up with that, pardon my word, bullshit. Maybe I would have said the only thing that should go down the crapper is the words out of her mouth. It is cruel and insensitive to suggest any pet be flushed. It would be abuse and neglect in one fell swoop. Raven was already suffering. The last thing she needed was one of the worst deaths you could give, drowning, only to be sent to a place where feces is processed. She was so much more than that. I will never understand why anyone thinks that is okay, and frankly, I do not want to.
The animal hospital made little clay prints of Raven’s paws which, as of writing this, are still drying. A few days after her death, I found out the vets cut my $700 bill in half because she needed euthanasia. It will be months before I feel ready to clean out her cage. Until then it will stay just as it was when Raven ran on her wheel at night, got a drink of water, foraged for treats in the tunnels… Until then, her burrows will stand. But her cage tag with her birthday, and now death day, join the memorabilia along with one small chew from her hide, the only thing removed. It’s become a bit of a tradition for me. When a pet dies, I keep one slightly gnawed chew toy instead of cleaning it for the next pet to enjoy.
The Why
As of writing this, Raven was put to sleep a couple of weeks ago. It’s still raw. I cried writing this. But I did, because I believe my experience will be a good, if difficult, learning opportunity for those who read it. What happened shows not every vet who will treat your pet should treat them. Hamsters and other exotics are a lot more expensive than you think. How one thing can look like something else, and sometimes the best option for them, is the hardest for you.
An Update
I really thought the end of this would be her burial and never going back to that veterinarian. Grief kept me from throwing away her pain meds. It was one of the last good memories I had of her, her eyes shining and tongue happily lapping up medication, which is usually difficult to give because it’s yucky. Unfortunately, that was not the end of this experience.
On 08/09/2023, I picked up the vial of medication suspension and read the label, remembering that moment.
Metacam susp… Refills 0… And so on.
The label was folded over in order to fit on the vial, so I turned it over. “expi” was on the front of the fold and “res…” was on the back. The date which followed left me in disbelief. The phrase read: “expires: 01/04/2001” The medication was over 20 years old. A medication which expires 6 months after production. At best, it was completely ineffective. I think my belief she was feeling better after taking that med was a placebo effect on my side of things. At worst, it could have killed her. Regardless, she was in excruciating pain. They not only dragged their feet about giving her pain medication, but when they finally did, the prescribed medication was older than me. As medication ages, it can break down into a detrimental or deadly toxin. They chanced killing her or making an already sick and suffering hamster even sicker with their actions. I see no way that medication could have any potency left after this long. I suspect, and I can only suspect, this was on purpose. At best, it was gross negligence.
All of my vet friends were suggesting I get a lawyer and file an official complaint. I filed the complaint. Unfortunately, I can not afford a lawyer and can only hope something comes from the complaint’s investigation.
So, there’s another lesson to learn from Raven’s Story: always, always, always, check the medication. Read the label and expiration date. I wish I read the entire label sooner. I trusted when I should not have.
APA and Link References:
There will not be many references for this article simply because I shared it directly from memory and photos. I will provide proof and further information for what I can, and what is safe without revealing personal information.
Sole, M. J., & Factor, S. M. (1985). Hamster cardiomyopathy: A genetically-transmitted sympathetic dystrophy?. In R.E. Beamish, V. Panagia, & N.S. Dhalla (Eds.), Pathogenesis of Stress-Induced Heart Disease (pp. Chapter page numbers). Developments in Cardiovascular Medicine, 46. Springer. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4613-2589-5_3
PetMed Upper Respiratory Infections in Rats – While this is for rats, hamsters have similar symptoms.
