My Second Childhood Pet

My second childhood pet came to me in a very unexpected manner. When I was in high school the biology teacher was going to teach us about nutrition and the effects nutrients have on the human body, and the diseases that could happen if the right vitamins, minerals, etc. were not in your diet. So, she ordered a bunch of baby lab rats and they were at the back of the class in cages. Each cage was labeled with a specific diet. Each rat was to be fed a different diet, with some nutrient or vitamin withheld, and we were to study the effects and watch as the rats grew. All students had to take a turn at making sure the rats were fed the proper diet.

Then, it was my turn. I liked the rats. They were cute, friendly, you could pick them up and hold them, and it bothered me a great deal that we were going to cause them to become sick or develop health problems or even deformities. So, I didn't do what the teacher had instructed. I gave the rats pieces of my lunch from the caffeteria that day. And, then I continued. I found a way to slip into the classroom during a break in the school day when the teacher wasn't in the room and continue to feed them food left over from my lunch. But then ..... finally the teacher caught me and found out what I was doing.

I explained to my teacher what I was feeling, and how I didn't think it was right to purposefully make them sick. To my surprise, she didn't get mad at me. Instead she said "Well, you created this problem, so, you're responsible for them. You will need to find homes for them and take care of them until you do." That's when I became a rat distribution system! It didn't take very many days before several high school students were the proud owners of white lab rats, and I went home to my "not a pet person" mother and held up my treasure ... a rat ... to the back door and said "Mom, can I keep him? Please?"

I named my rat Mickey. He became the most WONDERFUL pet and companion. Let me dispell any ideas of a rat being filthy and disgusting; to the contrary, rats can be exceptionally clean animals given the chance. Mickey cleaned himself similar to a cat. He did, of course, poop in his cage, but it was all neatly placed in one spot. And he loved being in water! I would actually put him in the bath tub with me and wash him up at least once a week. 

He was also very affectionate and wanted to be with me. Once he was an adult, he was quite the handful of rat, and our cat, Socks didn't view him as prey, and there wasn't a problem if both were out at the same time. I would sit with him in the evening when we watched TV or I read books. He learned to sit on my shoulder under my hair, and I would go out and ride my bicycle all over the place with him sitting there and never trying to get down. He would also curl up next to me under the covers while I slept at night. He was supposed to be in the cage at night, but somehow ... the door to the cage would be left open ... just a little bit!

When we traveled I took him with us, so our entire family was used to seeing my rat; uncles, aunts, grandparents, cousins. Once when we were on the way to visit my grandparents we stopped at a Shoney's for lunch, and it was just so hot in the car there was no way I could leave him in there. So, I put him in my purse, told him to stay hidden, and we went inside and had lunch. Somehow, he understood, and he just sat there, calm and quiet, concealed in my purse, and no one knew they shared the restaurant with a rat!

But, unfortunately, lab rats don't live very long. Part of their breeding is a short life so they can be used for experiments like what our teacher was planning and observed over a short period of time. So, before the age of three, Mickey developed, and developed very quickly, a large mass under his chin. We took him to the vet, but it was a cancerous growth, and the vet told us the kindest thing would be to let him go. 

I was completely devastated. It was my first experience with loss like that. I was 15 years old, and I grieved for weeks, and really, longer than that. My father carefully placed him in a sturdy box and we buried him in the back yard. Two years later I went off to college and my parents moved from Tennessee to Alabama. My wonderful father, knowing how much that tiny life meant to me, dug up a box with rat bones, and reburied it in the back yard of our  new home. Where, even though someone else owns the house and probably has no idea, my second pet love is buried, in a sturdy wooden box.