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Sitting round a table fashioned of a Q-Tip Box, the mother does enjoyed a late brunch, compliments of their offspring and indulgent owner. There were scrambled eggs, sliced fruit, and veggies with a little brown bread to round out the edges of the meal. As the hustle of snagging the best pieces of food died down, the does began to compare notes on Mother’s Day and how their individual sessions with their offspring had gone.
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It is seriously difficult to tell one white rat from another. Some owners trim their fur a little in patterns to try and tell them apart; others use food coloring, but I’ve largely given up. The White Babies don’t want individuality; I think of them as having a hive mind controlled by the Head White Baby.
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We planned our trip for months, starting with a huge map which Andrew pinned to the wall in the hallway which was the only place large enough for it. The next job was to stick pins in all the towns where my writer friends lived, but unfortunately I had to trim down my wish list. The insurance company was only going to give us 62 days and after that the cost would be too much for us. Reluctantly, I had to trim down my numbers of friends to visit, so Florida, Georgia and some areas south had to be scrapped. Likewise, Maine had to go as there was just not enough time to go there and fit Boston, Hudson and New York in as well.
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The first time I met Cherokee–Kee for short–he was lumbering up and down on the top of the cages of his “mates,” all of whom he would have torn limb from limb if he got the chance.
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The rat came every day, taking its place before Nora on the damp stone floor. The drabness of the rodent’s coat melded so well with his surroundings that he sometimes disappeared even while she was staring at him.
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Old Man Rodent came to us as a rescue from another rescue that had become overwhelmed with animals and financial difficulties and had had to close its doors. He was described as “rat aggressive”, which meant that he could not be housed with any of our other male rats, but needed his own cage. Skinny, partially bald from a wicked case of mites, and so dirty that I couldn’t figure out what color to enter into our records, he joined the crew at Bec and Matt’s Rats around Halloween with twelve other ratties. His unfortunate name, was Ashtray.
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The two groups of does faced each other across the kitchen floor. Their beady little eyes narrowed as they squinted at each other nearsightedly. On one side, this was merely curiosity. On the other side, rage was building.
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All of the animals in the forest, dressed in their warm winter furs, sat looking up at the starless sky. Even the wise old owl in the oak tree, ruffled his feathers in discontent, ignoring the little field mouse sitting on the branch beside him.
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The river was high that morning. Swirling brown water roiled up around the snow covered rocks at Bud Carter’s feet. He was prepared for the cold, dressed in layers, starting with his flannel pajamas from the night before. Sweaters and a jacket followed on top of each other, until he felt like a turtle in its shell.
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After Bluey and his son passed, Spotty found himself in the unenviable position of raising four adolescent male rats without the aid of good teeth or superior body mass. The teenagers rampaged up and down the cage, tipping bowls, humping the indignant Spotty (“Ah have been violated”), and devouring every scrap of food before Spotty even saw the food bowl. He was especially put out when they ate his specially prepared baby food that, along with applesauce and soft bread, was the only thing his teeth could handle.
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Perious Mouse took his seat beside Felicity Mouse, at the steering wheel of the wind buggy and flipped the tinted goggles on his flying cap down over his beady black eyes. The excitement was palpable in the barnyard and hardly a whisper could be heard from anyone except Piggy-Pig, who had managed to tip over the slop bucket in her pig pen.
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Bluey: the alpha male of the Boys’ Cage and a new father. Overwhelmed by his new responsibilities.
El Dorado: a troublemaker but good at heart.
Spotty Boy: a neutered male rat with a mellow disposition. Loves his food bowl.
The Babies: Bluey’s unruly children, product of his relationship with the doe Willow.
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I recently read Start Something That Matters by Blake Mycoskie, the founder of Toms Shoes. It was a book about how his business came to be, along with some great advice on starting a business of your own. A business whose foundation is built on giving back…making a difference.
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Who couldn’t love a mouse, especially elegantly attired in smart red knickerbockers, with a nut shell helmet, wielding a tiny wooden sword? Not only that, we get to see him in gorgeous red-striped PJs, a blue sweat shirt and green trousers! A very handsome little person indeed.
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Walter is approximately 6 months old & currently 8 lbs. He is good with Dogs, Good with Kids, Good with Adults, Does Good in the Car, Requires a yard, Likes to play with toys, Likes to be in your lap, Playful and Affectionate. China is available through Animal Compassion Team.
Cheeto is a 7 month old male orange and white tabby. He gets along with cats and dogs and loves to just play and hang our. Cheeto is available through Cat House On The Kings.
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