The passings of George and Smudge
George and Smudge were the two most lovely little rats in the world. my mum bought them for me for my 21st. They were little babies and lived in happiness together. I used to take them to the pub in my pocket and feed them crisps, let them sleep on my bed, take them on walks to the shop sat on my shoulder. They had led a happy life in a large cage, coming out to run around the house, play with the cats (seriously!) and dog (yup) and my mum would feed them a little fresh salad and sweetcorn every morning. They were indeed happy little rats - loved and nurtured like the younger siblings I never had.

Things when wrong for Smudge when he developed a cold and made red snot. He was never quite the same after that despite treatment, remaining a bit smaller than George. He was my favourite – a little badger rat while George was an Albino (he used sit weaving on his branch looking evil but they were both really friendly and never bit anyone). George, perhaps taking advantage of Smudges inferior size, developed slight gay tendencies. Many a time a peaceful evening would be interrupted by the Sounds of Smudge squealing while George gave him a bumming. The stress became too much after a while and eventually the poor little bugger (or buggered?) passed away. George had literally fucked him to death. It was sad, sad time and George now had to live on his own – his carnal desire leading to a life of solitude. Poor little Smudge was still warm when I found him. We had a little funeral (mum got quite upset) and I never really felt the same about George anymore.

As time went on and George got older he had to go the vets every 2weeks for tooth trimming but he still in good health – running around, sitting on his branch doing his evil weave thing and being a happy little rat.

Fast forward a few months.

Mum and dad went on holiday. They fed George before they went (his salad and sweetcorn + normal ratty food) and off they went. The time was around 6.30 a.m. I was up at around 7.30, went to the cage to let George out for his exercise only to find him dead……cold and stiff. He was lying under his favourite branch.

I was 23, ratless and heartbroken. I buried George next to Smudge and cried. 9 years later and they still hold a special place in my heart.

To conclude, I saw two dead rats - one who died from the stress of anal rape and the other.....old age perhaps?
( SpikeyPickle wishes he was mabazaritchie, Tue 4 Mar 2008, 16:05, 2 replies)

Weaving.
Having had friends who had rats I know what you really mean by 'weaving' but I actually like to imagine that he had a little loom on which he was weaving his evil plans in picture form.

I've had a succession of guinea pigs. Each one was a character and each one was mourned.
(singingringingtree Living in the past., Tue 4 Mar 2008, 19:47, closed)

Rats
Rats are good. I used to have two girls, Honey and Elanor. When my ex and I broke up (I shoulda joined in time for Beautiful but Bonkers, but that's another story) she took them. I do miss them still.
(Grey_Ghost has yet to decide on a sig on, Wed 5 Mar 2008, 13:40, closed)