People spend a whole lot of money getting rid of rodents.
And I'm spending a lot of money buying them. (And by "a lot of money" I mean "more than zero", which is precisely how much a rodent is worth, as far as I'm concerned.) The boys have been begging and begging for small, furry pets of their own for months and months, and I have drug my feet as long as I can.
After the whole our-dog-went-crazy ordeal earlier in the fall, I knew we were toast. The rodents would be unavoidable now. I did enough homework and learned that (*shudder*) rats seem to make excellent pets. I bought the boys a book on the subject, told them they all three have to read it, cover to cover, and learn every little detail about rat care. They have devoured it.
(It's funny--when you write a blog post about rats, words like "devour" suddenly take on a creepy new meaning.)
They have to learn all the rat-care details, because I do not want to see the rats, or touch them, or hear them, or smell them. And HEAVEN HELP ME I do not want to see them scurrying across my living room.
In fact, the only reason I'm even tell you about this is because I suspect there will be rat stories to tell, and very soon. The Dryer rats may become a source of great blog fodder around here. And if not, Melanie has a cat.
(I'm kidding! It's a joke! No nasty e-mails from the animal lovers, please.)
Seriously, if any of you has words of wisdom for this soon-to-be rodent owner, feel free to share your advice below. UNLESS you once had a rat, and it escaped from its cage and gave the whole family the Plague. If that's case, please keep your trap shut.
("Trap." There's another word with a new meaning...)
