more rats

Eddie and Small Child and I went to the pet store today to scope out rats. They aren't bad little beasts. Red eyes, which I cannot approve of, but not bad otherwise. I did get pooped on, and even that didn't materially diminish my enthusiasm for the little beasties.

Eddie is awaiting an enormous box of rat paraphernalia, including 50 liters of bedding. I'm not sure precisely how big a bag that will be, but I look forward to seeing it. The rat condo is a three-story plastic structure with a built-in exercise room, deep tub bath, and maid service. There are ramps instead of stairs, though--probably an ADA mandate for prefabricated housing.

I have been offered the honor of naming one of the pair. Joseph has suggested Plague-Carrier, but it lacks a certain charm. I like Poppy, or Brutus. Ed was determined on Eris and Fama (Discord and Rumor) until Mom flatly refused to countenence their metaphorical presence in the household. She wasn't much more taken with Tony "the Hammer" and Jamie "the Rat."

I am relieved that rats eat their food dead. Eddie's late lizard Herman ate live crickets. There's one still hidden under the dishwasher, and I got into the shower this morning, turned on the water, and had a very distressed cricket try to climb up on my leg in an attempt to escape the spray. I was almost as distressed as he was. As any self-respecting woman would do, I jumped out of the shower, threw on a bathrobe, and forced Eddie to remove the insect before I went on with the shower.

I do not anticipate having this problem with rat kibble.