This time he's REALLY not well, not just Pretend Not Well.
Poor old Nurse Grissom is in hospital himself, all alone and in glorious isolation. There was an unsavoury incident involving a Clearance Event in Grissom's Basement Department and Other People's Fur.... said Other People were distinctly Unhappy About Being Newly BROWN, thank you very much. Simon organised a petition and the result of it was Grissom and his smelly belly was banished to the Hospital Cage, with Malone being reinstated amongst the ranks of the healthy in Rat Towers. This was the first time he properly met the four new boys - Malone was always good with babies, and this batch proved to be no different. He greated them with wiffly nose and good humoured tolerance - he allowed one of them to ride him across the cage... even with his bad legs, bless him. It was like seeing an old donkey with a well-fed adolescent human male sat astride his back - but the spirit was willing, even if the flesh was weak. Baby was given his piggy-back and deposited gently at the other end of the cage, with Malone rubbing embrocation ointment on his sore hip and baby yelling "Again, again!!!". Bless him, good old Malone.
So back to poor old Grissom and his shares in Andrex.... Friday night (his first night in Intensive Care) saw him lying very sorry for himself In The Ball, Too Ill to Come Out. Boy did he manage to generate a strong and PUNGENT odour... Saturday was much the same, unless he heard the russle of the Treat Bag, in which case he managed to limp as far as the bars to claim his share of any treat to be issued. MummyRat got him out to love him better, and ended up having to put all her clothing into the washing machine along with every cleaning product she could get her hands on (including Harpic, just to be on the safe side) and herself into a very long and hot shower. Sunday saw MummyRat, peg firmly in position on the end of her nose, cleaning out Grissom's cage while Grissom himself sat on DaddyRat's knee, firmly on a Morrison's carrier bag and 18 rolls of kitchen towel.
Sunday evening - the time is currently just after 8pm - the Patient appears to be feeling much better and is eating his way through a kitchen towel MummyRat placed in Hospital with him just in case he felt the urge to .. wipe .. Let it also be stated, for the record, that there is also a plentiful supply of food in the cage - however, the kitchen towel is clearly more palatable.
If only there were rat-sized Pampers....
Sunday, 22 March 2009
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
Prison Visiting...
Nigh on three weeks have passed since my last posting – three weeks which included a day of wearing black (and not in a GOOD way) to “celebrate” the dreaded day when MummyRat turned 50 years of age. One good thing – none of the rats appear to mind that they are now being tended by a person of considerably advanced years, and who can now officially wear a purple skirt twinned with an orange blouse and a red knitted hat and nobody will think any the less of her since such colour schemes are clearly expected.
These three weeks have seen the introduction of Data, Worf, Flack and Hawkes into Rat Towers, the re-introduction of Colin back into the fold (still with a sore hand but bored out of what few wits he had in the hospital cage) and the imprisonment of LB into a cage on his own. Malone spent two nights in Rat Towers before MummyRat decided that he was Looking Frail and needed to be spoiled and made much of in the hospital cage, so he’s now being nursed and given lots of lovely tit-bits by his ever-loving Mummy. He really doesn’t seem to mind being alone so nobody is suffering from his being on his own in hospital – for approximately six nano-seconds I considered putting Nurse Grissom into hospital with Malone as a Carer but Grissom (who is very well-attuned to his adopted female parent’s thoughts) took to the hills and is still in hiding somewhere, holed up and being smuggled supplies by the four babies. The only time he deigns to appear in public is when I’m giving out treats, and when he wants a cuddle – Grissom is an extremely cuddly rat, and appears to trust me now not to put him into hospital. Malone is happy, so I’m leaving the status quo alone.
The Imprisoned One, however – now this is a different story altogether. I was labouring under the mis-illusion that once I managed to get LB on his own I’d be able to spoil him into becoming a friendly, sunny-personalitied rodent. I held this opinion for at least four days – four days that saw me daily putting my hand into the cage and stroking LB carefully and gently.. three of these days this worked very well and I was convinced that LB could be saved for the population of Rat Towers. However, day four was a totally different story; hand went into cage, as usual – LB allowed approximately three strokes before turning on me and giving me several really nasty bites. I should have known what to expect when I saw a bottle of nice Chianti opened and breathing in the cage and the book “Hannibal’s top 100 recipes” open to page 4 – “Human Finger Food”. That was the last time I stroked LB, and the last time I ever really want to have contact with him since there was absolutely no reason for such vicious behaviour – when he’s cleaned out he’s placed in his cage into the big “cleaning out” cage, with the roof taken off and allowed to effect his own egress – cage is then removed, cleaned and replaced and LB goes back in in his own time. Feeding him is now a matter of never letting the hand come between teeth and Thomas the Tank Engine cup containing the food. Maybe it’s Thomas that he has an aversion to – I’ll never know since I’m not a rat psychiatrist and LB himself doesn’t appear to want to share.
However, during the three days when LB was actually being nice (such lovely days) there was in Interesting Incident where LB won some definite brownie points. I got up (early, as always) and went to look at my boys – spotted that LB’s cage (on the bottom of the stack of two with Malone in the Hospital cage on top) had its front door wide open and no LB present. Furniture removal, frantic search and much sweating and swearing ensued. I moved the settee twice – no mean feat since it’s a large leather four-seater job – but no LB behind it… however, the movement of said settee maybe disturbed him from his hiding place because I spotted him strutting determinedly across the room towards his cage, tail stiff and nose a-quiver. He entered the cage, practically closed the door behind himself and sat and ate some food since he was Starving After Having His Adventure.
LB’s cell is now held close with a nappy pin…..
These three weeks have seen the introduction of Data, Worf, Flack and Hawkes into Rat Towers, the re-introduction of Colin back into the fold (still with a sore hand but bored out of what few wits he had in the hospital cage) and the imprisonment of LB into a cage on his own. Malone spent two nights in Rat Towers before MummyRat decided that he was Looking Frail and needed to be spoiled and made much of in the hospital cage, so he’s now being nursed and given lots of lovely tit-bits by his ever-loving Mummy. He really doesn’t seem to mind being alone so nobody is suffering from his being on his own in hospital – for approximately six nano-seconds I considered putting Nurse Grissom into hospital with Malone as a Carer but Grissom (who is very well-attuned to his adopted female parent’s thoughts) took to the hills and is still in hiding somewhere, holed up and being smuggled supplies by the four babies. The only time he deigns to appear in public is when I’m giving out treats, and when he wants a cuddle – Grissom is an extremely cuddly rat, and appears to trust me now not to put him into hospital. Malone is happy, so I’m leaving the status quo alone.
The Imprisoned One, however – now this is a different story altogether. I was labouring under the mis-illusion that once I managed to get LB on his own I’d be able to spoil him into becoming a friendly, sunny-personalitied rodent. I held this opinion for at least four days – four days that saw me daily putting my hand into the cage and stroking LB carefully and gently.. three of these days this worked very well and I was convinced that LB could be saved for the population of Rat Towers. However, day four was a totally different story; hand went into cage, as usual – LB allowed approximately three strokes before turning on me and giving me several really nasty bites. I should have known what to expect when I saw a bottle of nice Chianti opened and breathing in the cage and the book “Hannibal’s top 100 recipes” open to page 4 – “Human Finger Food”. That was the last time I stroked LB, and the last time I ever really want to have contact with him since there was absolutely no reason for such vicious behaviour – when he’s cleaned out he’s placed in his cage into the big “cleaning out” cage, with the roof taken off and allowed to effect his own egress – cage is then removed, cleaned and replaced and LB goes back in in his own time. Feeding him is now a matter of never letting the hand come between teeth and Thomas the Tank Engine cup containing the food. Maybe it’s Thomas that he has an aversion to – I’ll never know since I’m not a rat psychiatrist and LB himself doesn’t appear to want to share.
However, during the three days when LB was actually being nice (such lovely days) there was in Interesting Incident where LB won some definite brownie points. I got up (early, as always) and went to look at my boys – spotted that LB’s cage (on the bottom of the stack of two with Malone in the Hospital cage on top) had its front door wide open and no LB present. Furniture removal, frantic search and much sweating and swearing ensued. I moved the settee twice – no mean feat since it’s a large leather four-seater job – but no LB behind it… however, the movement of said settee maybe disturbed him from his hiding place because I spotted him strutting determinedly across the room towards his cage, tail stiff and nose a-quiver. He entered the cage, practically closed the door behind himself and sat and ate some food since he was Starving After Having His Adventure.
LB’s cell is now held close with a nappy pin…..
Saturday, 28 February 2009
Hospital visiting
It's a good job I don't have to take a bunch of grapes each time I hospital visit these days...
Since my last posting where I told you about the death of two of our little boys I've been scrutinising the surviving rodent population like a woman possessed, convinced that each of my lads, one after the other, is going to leave me. Last week after the demise of Gibbs I decided that Malone Wasn't Well so I took him out of Rat Towers and installed him in the hospital cage along with an indignant Tim. Tim lasted in hospital for about 10 minutes before I realised that it wasn't a good idea to put a 500g rat in good health in a small cage with a 350g rat who appeared to be ailing despite the good natures of both parties concerned. Exit Tim, enter Nurse Grissom. I'm not sure whether Grissom said something to offend Malone, but even THAT combination wasn't working because a mere five minutes had passed before Grissom was sat, arms folded, Outside The Bedroom Ball in hospital stating in no uncertain terms that This Situation Was Untenable since he had Nowhere To Sleep due to Malone Taking Up All Of The Ball. Exit Grissom - he left his nurse's uniform behind and entered Rat Towers in time to stalk off to Find Somewhere To Sleep since he was Exhausted after spending All That Time Out In The Cold.
For five days Malone was on his own in hospital, being cuddled, fed titbits and generally being made much of and receiving twice daily doses of antibiotics fed to him by his loving mummy on a piece of digestive biscuit. Said mummy was still obsessively monitoring her little boys for signs of ill health, expecting to find cold little bodies every time she looked into Rat Towers - luckily this vigilance paid off because I spotted that the World's Favourite Rat (Colin) appeared to be nursing a poorly left hand, and was sporting a red nose. Fingers were immediately pointed at LB since he's usually the guilty party when it comes to Biting Other People and Colin was tenderly removed from Rat Towers by a worried Mummy Rat. His arm appeared to be swollen and a touch warm, so Malone's feelings had to be put to one side and Colin was placed in hospital as his ward-mate. More antibiotics and digestive biscuits. Colin is a very laid-back boy even when the owner of a poorly hand, so it wasn't too much of a challenge to get the two patients happily installed together. However, the hospital cage isn't very big and Colin is a very big boy - around 650g would be my best guess - so he does tend to more wear the cage than live in it.
After maintaining a round-the-clock vigil on my poor, sick rodents I've decided, in consultation with Daddy Rat, that we'll put the fully-medicated Malone back into Rat Towers tomorrow AFTER we've cut his nails - these appear to resemble the talons of an old crone rather than the little pink fingernails of a rat. I'm very squeamish when it comes to nails - human, rat, feet, toe; I hate them all - so I'll do the holding of Malone while Daddy Rat does the cutting. Colin can then have the hospital ward to himself and won't have to Sleep Outside as he is doing now since Malone has taken up permanent residence in the ball. We've also decided that the four little babies - Worf, Data, Hawkes and Flack - are big enough now not to escape from Rat Towers so they're being introduced to the collective tomorrow too. That'll be fun for everybody since they're like greased lightening and appear to be forty rats rather than four.
Another thought that is being considered is the removal of LB from Rat Towers.... I hate the thought of isolating him but he really is incredibly nasty - Daddy Rat has bites on his hands and arms from where LB went for him as he was trying to find Simon, who had gone missing. LB has caused Delko, Tim, Malone and now Colin to have injuries (in Tim's case the injury turned into an abscess and cost him a month of pain) so I think the time has come to act.
I'll keep you informed. The ironic thing is that there isn't a nicer rat than LB when he is out of the cage - it's GETTING him out that causes the problems. Full body armour with additional gauntlets aren't sufficient protection when LB decides that he's in a Bad Mood. I'm not looking forward to explaining to him why he's now going to be residing in the Nursery Cage On His Own....
Since my last posting where I told you about the death of two of our little boys I've been scrutinising the surviving rodent population like a woman possessed, convinced that each of my lads, one after the other, is going to leave me. Last week after the demise of Gibbs I decided that Malone Wasn't Well so I took him out of Rat Towers and installed him in the hospital cage along with an indignant Tim. Tim lasted in hospital for about 10 minutes before I realised that it wasn't a good idea to put a 500g rat in good health in a small cage with a 350g rat who appeared to be ailing despite the good natures of both parties concerned. Exit Tim, enter Nurse Grissom. I'm not sure whether Grissom said something to offend Malone, but even THAT combination wasn't working because a mere five minutes had passed before Grissom was sat, arms folded, Outside The Bedroom Ball in hospital stating in no uncertain terms that This Situation Was Untenable since he had Nowhere To Sleep due to Malone Taking Up All Of The Ball. Exit Grissom - he left his nurse's uniform behind and entered Rat Towers in time to stalk off to Find Somewhere To Sleep since he was Exhausted after spending All That Time Out In The Cold.
For five days Malone was on his own in hospital, being cuddled, fed titbits and generally being made much of and receiving twice daily doses of antibiotics fed to him by his loving mummy on a piece of digestive biscuit. Said mummy was still obsessively monitoring her little boys for signs of ill health, expecting to find cold little bodies every time she looked into Rat Towers - luckily this vigilance paid off because I spotted that the World's Favourite Rat (Colin) appeared to be nursing a poorly left hand, and was sporting a red nose. Fingers were immediately pointed at LB since he's usually the guilty party when it comes to Biting Other People and Colin was tenderly removed from Rat Towers by a worried Mummy Rat. His arm appeared to be swollen and a touch warm, so Malone's feelings had to be put to one side and Colin was placed in hospital as his ward-mate. More antibiotics and digestive biscuits. Colin is a very laid-back boy even when the owner of a poorly hand, so it wasn't too much of a challenge to get the two patients happily installed together. However, the hospital cage isn't very big and Colin is a very big boy - around 650g would be my best guess - so he does tend to more wear the cage than live in it.
After maintaining a round-the-clock vigil on my poor, sick rodents I've decided, in consultation with Daddy Rat, that we'll put the fully-medicated Malone back into Rat Towers tomorrow AFTER we've cut his nails - these appear to resemble the talons of an old crone rather than the little pink fingernails of a rat. I'm very squeamish when it comes to nails - human, rat, feet, toe; I hate them all - so I'll do the holding of Malone while Daddy Rat does the cutting. Colin can then have the hospital ward to himself and won't have to Sleep Outside as he is doing now since Malone has taken up permanent residence in the ball. We've also decided that the four little babies - Worf, Data, Hawkes and Flack - are big enough now not to escape from Rat Towers so they're being introduced to the collective tomorrow too. That'll be fun for everybody since they're like greased lightening and appear to be forty rats rather than four.
Another thought that is being considered is the removal of LB from Rat Towers.... I hate the thought of isolating him but he really is incredibly nasty - Daddy Rat has bites on his hands and arms from where LB went for him as he was trying to find Simon, who had gone missing. LB has caused Delko, Tim, Malone and now Colin to have injuries (in Tim's case the injury turned into an abscess and cost him a month of pain) so I think the time has come to act.
I'll keep you informed. The ironic thing is that there isn't a nicer rat than LB when he is out of the cage - it's GETTING him out that causes the problems. Full body armour with additional gauntlets aren't sufficient protection when LB decides that he's in a Bad Mood. I'm not looking forward to explaining to him why he's now going to be residing in the Nursery Cage On His Own....
Thursday, 19 February 2009
The new and the old
Daddy Rat reported yesterday that we have four new boys - really tiny, really fast and all feet and ears - but didn't explain why we have them. Sadly on Tuesday I noticed that my little boy Munch - one of the new pair we got to replace Old Taylor - was very listless: very unusual for a baby rat, as rat lovers will testify. I made up the hospital cage and installed Nurse Grissom with baby Munch and took up vigil on the settee next to them. Baby Munch appeared to be looking at me, so I took him from the cage - Grissom was failing in his duty and was snoring loudly from the other side of the hospital - and he spent the afternoon wrapped up in my hands and lying on my tummy. He didn't sleep - just sat quietly. After around 3 hours I put him back into the cage because I couldn't get him to drink - normally a rat will lick water from my fingertip - and I was worrying about him becoming dehydrated. He had a tiny drink and then curled up with Nurse Grissom, so I left him there in the cage and stayed up with him. I fell asleep on the settee - when I woke up at 5am, he'd left us. I put Grissom back in Rat Towers and left Munch's body curled up in the cage. We had a little funeral for him, and I put some winter flowering jasmine on his grave.
That was sad enough, but THIS morning we got up and one of our little ginger and white boys Gibbs appeared to be ailing. I got him out of the cage and had him curled up on my tummy when he died at 10:30am. Another funeral, another grave, more winter flowering jasmine. The good thing about Gibbs' death is that he didn't appear to be ill right up to an hour before he appeared to ail. What's REALLY worrying me (and I'm a horrible Mummy Rat for saying this) is that he's twin to Grissom - Nurse Grissom - who is probably the loveliest rat on the planet and who will leave at least as big a hole as Taylor.
While I was shopping in Lincoln today (in Pets At Home, obviously) I found three lovely little dumbo boys - dark brown, like wild rats - and I had the strength of mind to leave them in the shop. Probably the hardest thing I've done! In view of the fact that we have four little babies in the hospital cage (cleaned!) because they're that small we're worried they'll escape from Rat Towers until they've grown a bit, I felt that it was probably going to be too much for the current Rodent Contingent to absorb SEVEN trouble-makers into the collective.... they're eyeing the hospital cage already and issuing threats about what they'll do to us if we put Those Trouble-Makers In With Them.....
I can feel a prescription for rat Valium coming on.
That was sad enough, but THIS morning we got up and one of our little ginger and white boys Gibbs appeared to be ailing. I got him out of the cage and had him curled up on my tummy when he died at 10:30am. Another funeral, another grave, more winter flowering jasmine. The good thing about Gibbs' death is that he didn't appear to be ill right up to an hour before he appeared to ail. What's REALLY worrying me (and I'm a horrible Mummy Rat for saying this) is that he's twin to Grissom - Nurse Grissom - who is probably the loveliest rat on the planet and who will leave at least as big a hole as Taylor.
While I was shopping in Lincoln today (in Pets At Home, obviously) I found three lovely little dumbo boys - dark brown, like wild rats - and I had the strength of mind to leave them in the shop. Probably the hardest thing I've done! In view of the fact that we have four little babies in the hospital cage (cleaned!) because they're that small we're worried they'll escape from Rat Towers until they've grown a bit, I felt that it was probably going to be too much for the current Rodent Contingent to absorb SEVEN trouble-makers into the collective.... they're eyeing the hospital cage already and issuing threats about what they'll do to us if we put Those Trouble-Makers In With Them.....
I can feel a prescription for rat Valium coming on.
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
FOUR more
And they are really small - just got them, they are dumbo rats and only left their mother this morning. Talk about small and talk about fast. But like all young children they are just trying to get into as much trouble as possible.
They are currently in one of our smaller cages due to their size - not for the fact the others would attack them as this would not happen but the fact we don't want them finding out that they can get through the bars by the food bowls as this would create a flapping woman known as Mummy Rat.
I will take their pictures and post here by the weekend
Daddy Rat
They are currently in one of our smaller cages due to their size - not for the fact the others would attack them as this would not happen but the fact we don't want them finding out that they can get through the bars by the food bowls as this would create a flapping woman known as Mummy Rat.
I will take their pictures and post here by the weekend
Daddy Rat
Saturday, 31 January 2009
Yoo-ooo Heeeeeeave Hoooooo!
Well, it happened like this.
I came into the living room and approached Rat Towers to say good morning to my boys - I was as usual beautifully gowned in a long tee-shirt nightie (red and white striped) and an antique chenille jumper (purple, black, red and cream striped - yes, it is as lovely as it sounds) with my hair styled by a night's sleep which included some enthusiastic tossing and turning. I looked as alluring as I always look first thing in the morning - my son slept through the night from a very early age, having realised that generating any noise likely to waken the beast from its slumber would result in ME arriving at his bedside, bearing a striking resemblence to a sleep-deprived Klingon with ingrowing toenails and abscessed teeth... enough said..... my son slept through the night from being about 10 minutes old.
But I digress. Going back to the original tale, remember that I'd arrived to greet my boys and to wish them good morning, whilst being dressed in immaculate style... (by the way, I refuse to pay for counselling for anybody who has recurring mental images of my morning attire). I approached Rat Towers, opened the door (very large - I actually climbed into the cage before the floor was installed and my ass is (to put it mildly) WIDE) and put in my arm to stroke my New Favourite Rat Colin who was a member of the rat pile in the top hammock. Colin greeted my affection with the normal squeezing shut of his eyes in an attempt to pretend that I wasn't really there, but I persisted. I harbour the hope that one day - one Wonderful Day - Colin my actually decide that he welcomes my attentions. Such a day wasn't to be this one, however. The stroking moved from Colin to the other boys - about six of them in a two-rat hammock - when I began to realise that it was getting a tad chilly in the basement area. Looking down I could see that the remaining rats - fifteen of them - were working as a team and dragging my nightie into the cage. Simon was at the front, acting as Fore-Rat and directing proceedings, enthusiasticaly scooping up fresh acres of my beautiful robes. By the time I'd managed to extract rats from clothing, my wobbly nether-regions were exposed to chilly morning air and several extra holes had been chewed in my precious garment.
Team work? Working with others? Rats have that taped; my ass can testify to that.
I came into the living room and approached Rat Towers to say good morning to my boys - I was as usual beautifully gowned in a long tee-shirt nightie (red and white striped) and an antique chenille jumper (purple, black, red and cream striped - yes, it is as lovely as it sounds) with my hair styled by a night's sleep which included some enthusiastic tossing and turning. I looked as alluring as I always look first thing in the morning - my son slept through the night from a very early age, having realised that generating any noise likely to waken the beast from its slumber would result in ME arriving at his bedside, bearing a striking resemblence to a sleep-deprived Klingon with ingrowing toenails and abscessed teeth... enough said..... my son slept through the night from being about 10 minutes old.
But I digress. Going back to the original tale, remember that I'd arrived to greet my boys and to wish them good morning, whilst being dressed in immaculate style... (by the way, I refuse to pay for counselling for anybody who has recurring mental images of my morning attire). I approached Rat Towers, opened the door (very large - I actually climbed into the cage before the floor was installed and my ass is (to put it mildly) WIDE) and put in my arm to stroke my New Favourite Rat Colin who was a member of the rat pile in the top hammock. Colin greeted my affection with the normal squeezing shut of his eyes in an attempt to pretend that I wasn't really there, but I persisted. I harbour the hope that one day - one Wonderful Day - Colin my actually decide that he welcomes my attentions. Such a day wasn't to be this one, however. The stroking moved from Colin to the other boys - about six of them in a two-rat hammock - when I began to realise that it was getting a tad chilly in the basement area. Looking down I could see that the remaining rats - fifteen of them - were working as a team and dragging my nightie into the cage. Simon was at the front, acting as Fore-Rat and directing proceedings, enthusiasticaly scooping up fresh acres of my beautiful robes. By the time I'd managed to extract rats from clothing, my wobbly nether-regions were exposed to chilly morning air and several extra holes had been chewed in my precious garment.
Team work? Working with others? Rats have that taped; my ass can testify to that.
Monday, 26 January 2009
Two new boys!
We did remarkably well, given our track records. We managed to last for over a week before going out and getting a new baby or two to replace the boy we lost on January 17th - this must be some sort of record. Today we've invited two new little dumbo boys to join our rat family - a lovely little grey hooded who is our new Taylor, and a black hooded called Munch. They're installed in Rat Towers, having met the rest of the crew - they're extremely busy investigating their new environment, and teaching us new tricks. Well, new to them, that is. To us they're old tricks - a flutter of a rodent eyelash or a whimsical rodent smile and we're there to do the bidding of the boys. To the new boys, it's a great new game - see how fast those humans can cross a room if we let out a really loud squeak!!! Yay!
It's exactly a year today since we had our old Taylor, Fitzgerald and Malone (those of you who watch Without a Trace will recognise the names!) so it seemed fitting to name the new boy after my lovely grand old man. The other new boy, Munch, is named after my old darling Munch (known to all as Mummy's Munch - he was the first rat I really adored, who used to rattle the cage door and chew at the bars whenever he saw me come into a room so that he could come out for a cuddle and would spend every evening curled up on my knee) who died a year ago yesterday (Burns Night). So it's all very fitting!
I wish my new babies luck - they're currently being sniffed and shown around their new environment and have better things to do than to talk to us. Tomorrow we're having lots of new shelving and hammocks and toys being delivered so I think they're getting their chewing tackle revved up in preparation....
Another night spend tending the rodents is coming on, I can feel it ....
It's exactly a year today since we had our old Taylor, Fitzgerald and Malone (those of you who watch Without a Trace will recognise the names!) so it seemed fitting to name the new boy after my lovely grand old man. The other new boy, Munch, is named after my old darling Munch (known to all as Mummy's Munch - he was the first rat I really adored, who used to rattle the cage door and chew at the bars whenever he saw me come into a room so that he could come out for a cuddle and would spend every evening curled up on my knee) who died a year ago yesterday (Burns Night). So it's all very fitting!
I wish my new babies luck - they're currently being sniffed and shown around their new environment and have better things to do than to talk to us. Tomorrow we're having lots of new shelving and hammocks and toys being delivered so I think they're getting their chewing tackle revved up in preparation....
Another night spend tending the rodents is coming on, I can feel it ....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
