Fairy Rat Mothers and Assorted Strange Stuff

Fairy Rat Mothers and Assorted Strange Stuff

The boys finally met their Fairy Rat Mother Beffy this summer. She came back from her mission trip to India and came over to schmooze with the wee fellows. They aren't so wee any more.

Helloooo; I'm your Aunt Beffy!

      One of our friends always refers to our male adoramites as 'Beavers' because of their size. Other male friends become insecure when they note the size and proportion of the tackle carted about by boy ratties. They are mucho macho men for certain.

These macho dudes are now fully grown and their personalities have become more pronounced. Mortimer is shy and likes to sit quietly in the lap while being gently stroked and massaged. He grinds his teeth and boggles his eyes in happiness and his little body almost quivers with pleasure. In spite of being the shy one around people, he is definitely the top dog (sic) in the mousehouse. 

Do I know you?

Kneel before your emperor.

 Raoul, in spite of his larger size is second in command to Mortimer. Raoul is NOT the slightest bit shy and is afraid of nothing to the point that we watch him very carefully. He could take it into his fevered ratty brain to make a flying leap off of the play table and straight into the unknown.

I wonder where this goes?

He is also known as 'the stomach' because he will eat anything and lots of it. Mortimer is more discerning and likes to thoroughly investigate any new food. Of course this means we have to feed them separately otherwise Raoul will snarf his food down then sidle over to sample his brother's meal. Mort will leave and let him have at it. For awhile I worried about Mort and whether or not he was gaining weight until I witnessed the day Mort decided he wanted his dinner and kept hip-checking Raoul out of the way.

Hmmm, tastes like chicken.

Today they got a nice visit from Katie who happens to be a sister of their Aunt Beffy. She wanted to come and give them some love before she leaves for her third year of university. These girls are such a sunny spot in my world. 

Katie and admirer

 They have a gorgeous sister Chrissy too who will be home for one more school year before she enters the big bad world out there.

Chrissy is dancing, or acting, or looking innocent.

In the meantime, I will hold down the adoramite station and keep ratty central open for business!

After all, Fairy Rat Mothers, and Kate-O's, and Crunchies all have to come back some time or another and there must be adoramites.  Oh yes, there must.

Good Intentions Paving Co.

The road to you-know-where is paved with good intentions, so it goes.  Understand now that this means good intentions that were never accomplished.  

For the past week I have had about six or seven different great ideas for a post, but didn't sit down to flesh them out and now they have flown into the land of 'nevermore'.  They are gone, done, over, air-biscuits, space vapour.  

This all leaves me with a guilty conscience and an empty blog.  Oh dear.  Oh my.  Oh dang.

Quick!  Look at this!!!

I mean YOU!

 

 

That should distract you from my failures.  Speaking of iguanas and I believe that I am, there was once a female iguana named "Inga" at the Butterfly Conservatory in Niagara Falls Canada, and she was a big gorgeous gal who hung around at the top of a very tall palm tree.  Apparently the Parks Commission had gotten her a husband who did not meet with her approval, and so she dispatched him.  I guess she was no fan of arranged marriages.  At any rate, on our last trip down to see Studly's family, we went to the Conservatory and I couldn't find Inga anywhere.  An attendant told us that she had passed away, a virgin queen to the end.

How sad.  There were however, more butterflies and more beautiful foliage representing many different biospheres and the visit was totally worth it even without the iguana.  I made friends with a butterfly who hopped onto my hand and acted like a ring.  It refused to leave so I just told it to make itself t'home and enjoy the ride.  Eventually of course it flitted off to whatever it is that butterflies do, but I can tell you that I was mighty honoured to be singled out by the lovely creature.  

Not that it made up for lack of Inga, but then, nothing possibly could.  I hope you are in a great iguana paradise Inga.  May there be loads of fruit and some decent guys for you!

All of which is to say - "Hey look!  A post!"

The Animals That Live In Our Hearts Part 2

This is Piper, a purebred Scottish Terrier - proper name is Aberdeen Terrier.  You will remember the black dog from Black & White whiskey, or the thick-brogued, fellow from "Lady and the Tramp".  


These dogs have held a long spot in the hearts of my family.  My paternal grandmother had a scotty, and my father spent a great deal of time with his sergeant-major's Jock during the second world war.  My sister now has her second scotty.


Us?  Well, after our beloved Moo died, we were dog-less for over a year and had no wish to look for another.  We would half-halfheartedly discuss another dog, but then let the conversation die.  It seemed that we would just not bother again.


Then, one day out of the blue, our friend Greg called with a woeful story of a little dog that needed a home because her family could no longer care for her.  Mum was a school principal and dad had Alzeimer's.  The care giver had no time to give the dog, a five year old female scotty.  Without missing a beat I agreed to take her, then went to wake up my husband who had just come off of a midnight shift to tell him we were about to become dog people again.


That evening Greg, his wife and daughter, brought Piper to us.  I fell in love instantly as is my wont, and Piper moved into our lives.  She had been bred of champion stock in France, and shipped here to a breeder who showed her and put a lot of championship points on her.  Piper was then bred twice and had two litters of pups who went on to become prize winners and calendar dogs.  After her usefullness as a money-maker was completed, she was sold as a pet to the aforementioned couple.


Now she was ours.  Piper was a great little dog.  She was so quiet we couldn't quite believe it.  She hardly ever made a sound which is grand for apartment folks.  She adjusted to us very quickly and developed a huge crush on Studly as dogs do, although she and I maintained an easy friendship as well.


Piper was not only quiet, she was never in a hurry.  Studly got no exercise whatsoever when walking her as her methods consisted of taking a couple of little steps then sniffing the bejarpurs out of whatever was on the ground.  It could take an hour to go around the block.  I insisted she walk to heel but Studly let her make all the decisions.  His patience with her was endless.


This was an extremely popular dog in our building.  There is a Bingo game each Monday evening and the Bingo players are very serious about it all, but they would call a break to visit with Piper if she walked past the common room.  Ditto for card nights.  Piper would stroll into the lounge as if she owned it and go to each person and say her version of 'hello'.

Watching her walk away was a surefire medicine to make you smile.  Those funny little hairy legs and that foursquare body were guaranteed to make the worst curmudgeon grin and bend over to stroke her head.  Our friend Chuck considered her to be his 'other' dog. Piper could charm the angels themselves I'm sure.


In Pipers sixth year with us she developed lumps under her chin, and when we took her to the vet he found a big mass in her abdomen.  The verdict was grim.  Cancer had invaded and it was aggressive and fast-growing.  She had stopped wanting to eat or walk and that morning she had laid herself down outside, an act so unlike her that it frightened us.


We had to make the hard decision to give her an easy death before the illness robbed her of all quality of life.  We kissed her and thanked her for her love and companionship.  Studly told her not to worry, that  'Daddy will make it all better'.  Then, while we held her in our arms and kissed her head, the vet helped her gently slip away.


We are still in the mourning phase of this goodbye and as of right this minute, our plan is to not have another dog, but to give ourselves some time of freedom from schedules and so forth.  Maybe what we are really doing is giving ourselves some vacation from heartbreak.


Of course, just this week we had our dear friend's precious boy Kagnay with us for a few days while he was away.  It was awfully nice to have this little bundle of affection around and we willingly enslaved ourselves for him.  I think we are basket cases when it comes to animals.  Kagnay and Piper were good pals so it kind of brought her back for a bit too.


Time will tell as it always does.  Never say never is an old chestnut but I have lived long enough to realize its truth.  We will see.

This is Kagnay the miniature pinscher.  How adorable is he?

By ANY Other Name

Pet rats suffer outrageous epithets from those who don't see past the name.  Surely dogs would suffer the same were we to call them 'wolves' as this is essentially what they are.  We have domesticated them to the point that they are tame, affectionate, easily trained, and boon companions, so unless one has a pathological fear of them, the term 'dog' strikes no revulsion or fear.

NOT a wolf

Rats have been domesticated as pets for hundreds of years and in fact they were pets first.  Rat baiters caught rats to throw into pits for terriers to pull apart.  It was a horrible, insane, grisly sport, but in the process the baiters noticed that the rats who had either white or fawn markings were tamer, had milder temperments, and were easier to handle.  Somewhere along the line someone began to breed them and likely one of their children made one into a pet.  It was because of this amiability of temperment and the similarity of rats' diet needs to ours that they became a prime laboratory animal.  This is only a tiny notch up the nasty ladder in my personal system of belief, but in the process of all of this beastliness the good was somehow drawn out by creating the perfect companion pets.

Domestic rats are like small dogs in loyalty, love, train-ability, intelligence, and companionship.  They clean themselves constantly as do cats, and they are cheerfully sweet, showing the capability for humor.  It takes very little time to convert a pet rat hater into a fan.

How sweet is this?

Their biggest drawback is that name.  RATSSSSSSSSSSS conjures up visions of plague, garbage, sewers, poverty, slums, and filth.  

Of late, fans of the pet have taken to calling them 'ratties' to differentiate them from wild rats.  This does not fool the ratophobe however, or the rodent-averse.  They need a new name, a new designation that encompasses their loveable qualities and their cuteness.


My friend Matt came up with the perfect moniker last night.  We were playing with Raoul and Mortimer and  Matt commented on how more people should get to know them and thus learn how wonderful these little animals are.  I climbed on my usual soapbox about the need for a new name.  With nary a blink Matt said:

" Adoramites"

It resonated.  It made sense.  They are wee mites of pets and they are totally adorable.  I've begun to spread the word and shall from here on in, refer to my pet of choice as adoramites.


My own particular adoramites are waiting for me to go and get them for some quality tummy tickling and ear scritching, and as their willing slave I shall do just that.  You really should be checking into these pets.  Get some books and do some googling.  Write into the forums and use the term 'adoramite' and get it around.  Within two years it will change the perception of these small critters from 'ewwwwwwwww' to 'awwwwwwwwww'.

Greg's adoramite Rosie.  Awwwwwwww!

Dictionary Definitions of Adorable

Raoul the Intrepid

Mortimer the Magnificent

The little boys are growing so quickly.    They still have their baby fur but now have lovely little round tummies, and they are very tame.  I change up the cage for them every few days, and have something different for them for free time every night.  This keeps them interested and their brains busy.


The socialization of these two has gone very quickly.  They are responding to our voices and have developed a keen love of massage!  They take after me I guess.  To have these two in my lap while reading or watching a movie is so nice.  They wake from their naps and explore a bit, then smooch my fingers, yawn, and tuck in for another snooze.

Their exercise sessions last week involved a laundry basket filled with a driftwood branch, boxes, strips of paper, old socks, and a few treats tucked here and there.  They had a blast digging through it all and chasing each other through the paper to get to the treats.


Raoul's method is to grab and stuff.  Mortimer gets his treat then scampers away to a corner, turns his back on his brother, then has a leisurely snack.  Mortimer is a dainty eater.  They had their first taste of frozen peas a few days ago and true to form, Raoul just sat right down and gorged.  Mort turned his pea around and around in his little hands, and peeled off the entire skin!  Then he ate the meat of the pea.  I swear he lifted his pinkies!  He has to be careful of Raoul because after Rao finishes his snack he tries to 'share' Mort's.  I use 'share' in the sense of ' take away from'.

It is really interesting to watch their brotherly dynamic.  The early evening wrestling matches are the best.  They put on quite a show with play squeaking, running, tumbling, pinning each other to the mat, and so forth.  It can go on for half an hour and is easily the best entertainment to be had during the news/game show portions of the evening!


I fail to understand why television producers haven't picked up on this.  A few shows featuring tame ratties would be a great improvement on the usual fare.  I'm not talking the "Hammy Hamster" type of program either.  I mean real ratties interacting and doing their thing.  Youtube has lots of great footage of people's pet rats doing agility, playing basketball, bowling, interacting with other animals and getting loved by their people.  Some slick production values and writing could turn out some winners I am certain.


I have whiled away a lot of happy moments watching.  Advertisers should be taking note.