Cool Whip was a classroom pet for the first two years of her life. She arrived in the clinic where I work as a veterinary technician for euthanasia one afternoon; I couldn't bare the thought of her owner putting her down simply because something was wrong with the skin on her face. I asked the owner to sign her over to me and I would attempt to treat and medicate her in hopes of allowing her some more time to live. She was the sweetest, friendliest rat that I have ever owned. It was obvious that she was grateful that I took her in and put out such a huge effort to make her feel like a pet and not a property. She was incredibly attached to me, I knew she was thankful for all that I was doing. She came to work with me everyday; I took her out in public. Everyone who took one look at her told me I was horrible for letting her skin get as bad as it was, and gave me dirty looks when they saw her. Of course, they didn't know the whole story; they didn't know she was a rescue and we were doing everything we could to figure out what was wrong. The doctor and I never could figure out what was wrong, and we never could cure it. As time progressed, Cool Whip started to develop terrible reproductive issues from not being spayed. I had to let her go barely eight months later. I know that our time was short together, but I also know it was the best 8 months of her life no doubt.