Rat of my heart

Our very last rat has died.  At one point we had 12 in the house (when one of our two new female rats gave birth to 10 babies unexpectedly), but for the last few months, ever since his siblings went to that Great Cheese in the sky, Georgie has been our only rodent.

I love rats, but Georgie was special.  Glossy and gregarious from the very beginning, he was the most sociable rat in his family as well as the most handsome.  And he stayed frisky, friendly, and adventurous until the very end, when he finally died in his sleep - a truly elderly gentleman of 2 1/2 years old.  Thinking he was liable to keel over at any time, I began letting him free-range through the living room twice a day several months ago, and maybe the joy of that kept him going.  He'd roam, but he returned every few minutes to my feet - just checking in to say hi.

Georgie at 2 weeks

I've kvetched before about how anti-rat most children's literature is (and how pro-mice.  Puhleeze!), so I'll just end this post on a positive note with a link to some rat-addled folks who would appreciate what a fine creature Georgie was.