It
is never easy to tell people that you have rats. This is true even if they are
intentional rats, meaning rats that you intentionally acquired and not the
oh-god-why-didn’t-I-clean-up-the-crumbs-under-my-bed-now-I-have-rats kind of
rats.
It
started a couple of days before Christmas with both my children standing in the
kitchen chanting ‘buy us rats.’ It ended with my explaining to my husband how I
had taken his actual, real, hard-earned money and converted it into a pair of
rats. Then, it continued with my father dramatically yelling: ‘Plague! Plague!’
as he walked around the house. That did not help my argument.
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| Buster the Rat |
Contrary
to many people’s beliefs, however, we have yet to contract the plague and the
baby has not, as of yet, been eaten. The rats are very curious, lively, and
entertaining little creatures each with its own personality…or ratonality, I
guess. Buster, a black and white rat, is enormous and terrified of everything.
Even the smallest noise sends him hurtling through anything in his path to hide
in his house. Mister, on the other hand, is a drama queen who gnaws on the bars
of his cage as if he hasn’t eaten in a fortnight and looks at us with little
pleading Oliver Twist eyes, despite the fact that we just watched him consume
his weight in cheerios.
They
are also hoarders. Everything that goes into their cage eventually gets stuffed
into their house until the house actually lifts up off the shelf upon which it
sits, leaving a house shaped mass of newspaper, collectibles, and rats. They
will continue to accept treats as long as we will offer them and run off to
squirrel (?) them away for later. They generally hide them in the paper litter
that lines the bottom of their cage. For this reason, they find cage cleaning
time particularly distressing as it means the removal of all of their
not-so-carefully hidden treats…upon which they had been walked and peeing…but
still.
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| Rat and Mouse. Ha. Ha. |
One
day, my daughter’s rat sneezed in my nose. I have yet to develop the
superpowers I was certain would come as a result of such an interaction. I’m
also on the lookout for signs that I am hiding my leftovers under my pillow. So
far, I never have leftovers. The rats will come and look right into your face
and explore any opportunities that might smell interesting, such as the inside
of my nose or the interior of my cat’s ears (much to her great excitement). Or
my daughters mouth which was followed by her exclamation “’ook mah, ey clea’ ‘y
teeh” as I follow her instructions and notice that nearly the entire head of
the rat has disappeared. I do not consider rats to be a substitute for tooth
brushing, but if dental care continues to rise in cost, I may consider
switching to annual rat debridement plan.
During
the day, when they are sleepier, the will snuggle in my coat pocket or behind
my head as I sit on the couch and occasionally stretch. At night, they
participate in Olympic level training exercises on their wheel, at least until
Buster hears a noise and then he goes back to hiding in his house. I think
Mister mocks him.
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| Mister Contemplates Self |
My
mother was concerned that it would be difficult to know if we had two rats of
the same sex or if we would soon have baby rats. She based this worry on her
very accurate memory of my first foray into rodent ownership. A boy I went to
school with gave me two male mice. Not a great deal later in my life, I had 32
mice. Despite the paucity of information presented in my school’s sex education
curriculum, I quickly developed a male/female mouse theory that could never,
however, be verified because mice penis’ are very small and mice also bite. I
don’t remember what became of the mice.
 |
| A Sharp Shinned Hawk Outside my window |
In
any case, this is not a concern that one needs to have in rat ownership, as the
male rats are very clearly identifiable. For a male human to have a
proportionate relationship with his manhood, it would be necessary for him to
walk around with a pair of basketballs taped to the back of his shorts. You can
sex a rat from 3 houses away. I am pleased that this miracle of the cycle of
life is not something that I will have to explain to my children. After all, I
have only just recovered from answering my son’s questions about sex that arose
as the result of playing Sims. As long as they learn about sex from the
internet and video games rather than relationships among animals, I feel like
all is right with the world.
As
to whether or not it is acceptable to keep animals in cages I will say this. We
do give our rats floor time everyday and, in comparison to the footage I have
seen of their wild cousins, my rats rarely have to worry about rising sewage or
hungry eagles. I’ve given them tiny complaint forms to fill out should they
wish to express comments or concerns as well as the number for a rat help
hotline.
Sometimes,
though, I will catch one of them looking right at me. Staring directly at me
for several moments on end as if contemplating the bridge between us; examining
this interspecies relationship that has created this trust between such
disparate beings, like tiny philosophers. Then, generally, I realize it’s
because I’m eating a cracker. So I share.
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