Rat babies

I was going to write about my annoyances in cleaning the house yesterday and how I kept finding a ridiculous amount of my mom's stuff everywhere, but instead the rat babies have drawn my attention. And please don't be grossed out, because these are rat baby pets.

When I was younger our family had pet rats. We probably went through at least ten over the course of the years. Started with the best rat of them all, Splinter, named for the best rat of them all, who thought of herself as a human essentially and expected to be treated like one. Ended with the saddest rat story ever, Tiny Tina, who upon arrival was the smallest but then swelled to gargantuan sizes due to the large tumors residing inside her. It was very sad to see a beloved pet uncomfortable, in pain, and generally living a poor quality of life.

In preparation for my future life doing whatever it is I will do, I became the "mother" to two new babies: Buffy and Annabel. Buffy is aptly named, as she terrorizes Annabel daily by pinning her in an attempt to groom her or maybe put a wood chip stake into her heart. And she has a blond hood, which makes the name more perfect. Annabel was supposed to be a feeder rat - so I basically saved her life from the jowls of death by snake - and therefore has taken quite some time to get used to human touch and not being skittish.

Now, rats are very good pets. They're loyal, they like affection, they take care of themselves during the day when you're gone, they're self-contained, I could go on. However, because it's been so long since I last had pet rats, perhaps my concept of them is off because I've forgotten what they do. For example, these two are extremely picky. They get the cream of the crop of food and they've ignored the fresh strawberries and get upset when the dish does not contain cilantro. They throw little rat tantrums when they go back to their cage after roaming around in the wild, which to me is called the office. They'll go berserk and run around their cage at lightening fast speed for no apparent reason - it's insanity. One minute they're happy as clams in their little world, and the next minute a neuron fires wrong and sends them on a ballistic romp up and down and up and down the rat ramp.

I'm also slightly terrified the Buffy is going to kill Annabel, or the reverse. Buffy usually instigates the attack, appearing to want to groom Annabel and then pinning herself on top of Annabel when she doesn't get her way. However, Annabel is a bit larger than Buffy, and though Buffy has the tenacity to fight back, Annabel has the strength and size in her favor. And Buffy is not as adventurous as Annabel. She refuses to leave my shoulder when given the opportunity to wander about and see what the house looks like. When she finally does climb down my arm to the carpeted floor, she moves in slow cautious movements, or she will follow Annabel. She's still small enough that she can stick everything up to her shoulders through a cage hole, but she always returns to her sleeping palace where Annabel awaits. Clearly, Annabel has assumed the role of matriarch.

I guess I'm getting used to having pet rats again. If you're thinking of getting a starter pet, I'd recommend them. They are pretty entertaining. And they're smart. Despite the fighting with these two - I'm starting to think it's racial because Buffy is a hooded rat and Annabel is a dumbo rat, and I don't know if maybe Buffy has developed a small rat complex - they've been grand. Hopefully they do stop fighting, though. It makes me nervous to leave the house. I always expect to see a still body laying in the bedding, while the other one sits on the top level of the cage, cowering in a corner, in complete terror of what she's done to her companion.