Ratcha Talkin’ About?
In honor of my youngest daughter’s Sweet Sixteen mile marker I offered a party; she demurred. We considered a sleepover with three or four girlfriends at the Marriott with the indoor pool; she opted out.
So what did my darling, Sweet Sixteener want? Cold, hard cash for ooh-gobs of shopping and… a pet rat.
“Wait. What?” Perhaps my hormones caused a hallucination or stripped me of my hearing. “You want a what? What? A cat? A hat?”
A rat…in a house with three dogs, two cats and a mother who has nightmares about Mickey Mouse.
I laughed maniacally.
“These pre-menopausal hormones are something, aren’t they?” I chuckled to my husband, wiping the tears from my eyes. “For a minute there I thought she said ‘rat’.”
He patted me on the head and smiled.
Thus, Daisy the Rat was introduced to the Claro household. Daisy looks like a hamster with a rat tail, so it is easy to forget when looking into that fuzzy little face that her ancestors carried the Black Plague. In spite of myself, I’ve been sucked to the Dark Side by a quivering pink nose and tickling whiskers.
Daisy’s tail, which I was initially loath to touch, is velvety and feels like a peach. She is interactive, talkative in a rat sort of way and, unlike the hamsters we’ve adopted in the past, is too polite to bite. Also, she is smart, as evidenced by her agitation with Rap music and tendency to grow calm with Country. Yes, musical preferences are subjective, but since Daisy agrees with me on this one I count it in her favor.
In any event, I achieved my goal which was to ensure a memorable sixteenth birthday for Christina. I didn’t have to stress with a big party or fret over staying within budget for a weekend at the Marriott. Of course, I do have a rat in the house, but with all the barking and meowing going on from the canines and felines who share our space, Daisy is veritably refined by comparison.
A refined rat.