Must say I have read and enjoyed many of your posts during my years on FR.
As soon as I started reading about a pet rat, I guessed who it was before looking. Don’t recall reading about the pet rat before, but somehow I’m not too surprised. :)
OMG, the rat stories.
Therein lies an era of my bizarre life heretofore untouched.
Back in the 80s, I went on crusade to save the mauled, mangled “feeder rats” injured from fighting due to the stress of overcrowding during shipping, every Friday on “delivery day” to the local pet store.
After a few weeks, they feared my coming and simply, silently, gathered up all the “broken rats” and handed them over to me to take home and repair.
The rats had huge habitats that took up the entire spare bedroom.
Fortunately, things changed for the better and pet stores stopped considering them clockwork oranges with no feelings or value, beyond a few bucks a piece, *if* they survived transport.
They are actually lovely, smart and immaculately clean little creatures, full of personality.
Sadly, their lives are tragically short and it hurts too much when their 2 -3 years are over.
Tiny little Rita, in the story, was preggers when I got her.
She was a Hooded Rat, about the size of a tennis ball, with a tail.
She had *14* babies.
Every single one of them grew to massive size as adults and I’m talking 2 pound rats!
I cut out little paper rat shapes and colored them in, like we used to do for AKC dog registrations, so I could tell them apart as babies and keep their names straight.
After a while, people used leave messages with the pet stores for me, or call me at home and ask me to come take rats they couldn’t care for anymore or who were sick.
We didn’t have “rat vets” back then and I was often their last hope.
/I never said I wasn’t crazy
:D