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My First Rat Experience

One day, when I was about 14 years old, I came home from school at around 4:30 (long bus ride) to find a police officer standing in our hallway holding onto his weapon. For some odd reason, panic didn't set in because for some odd reason he was pointing his weapon toward to the ground and was half hunched-over watching for....something.

Needless to say, I demanded an explanation and out comes my mother who is in this utter state of disarray to....ignore me. The police officer tells her that there's not much he can do as "it seems to have left the premises," and that he will be on his merry way.

I watch him leave and make a second try for an explanation. Apparently my mother dropped her pants in an attempt to make a movement and just as she was plopping herself down on the throne (and these are her words, not mine) "a rat leaped out of the toilet, took off between [her] legs, and scurried off."

The bathroom door was, of course, closed, so he obviously couldn't have gone far, but my mother's precious moment was ruined and she was forced to return to a clothed state after which she darted out of the bathroom.

She (I kid you not) called my father at work (What on earth was he going to do about a propelling wet "rat"?) and he was unavailable so she did the next logical thing - she called the police department. I could just envision them drawing straws to see who was going to take that call.

The police officer arrived, apparently "checked out" the bathroom, scoped the hallway walls with his big gun, then called it a day. That's when I was lucky enough to come home. I guess the poor "rat" after seeing my mother's finer side, decided to just make a go for it and dove back in - I know I would.

But that's not all.... For the next 2 years of my life, I had to remove a big rock (I mean, BIG ROCK) from the toilet seat before lifting the seat to go to the bathroom. I kid you not. I'm not sure how the rock ever managed to go away, but there is still, to this day (I'm 27 now) a big rock on the seat of the basement toilet. Fortunately my mother was convinced that no rat would make it to the second floor toilet so that one, thank goodness, remained rock-free.

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Disclaimer: There are many non-sarcastic accounts and tips on the web regarding rat care. This is not one of them. These are merely accounts of our experiences with rats, our perceptions of these experiences, where we've failed and where we've succeeded. These accounts are here for two purposes:

    1) To entertain.
    2) To help avoid repetition of mistakes

  Remember! Your rat is not a science project, he is your friend!

All content contained herein © 1996-2007 by Andrew Waltz, Nathalie Baldwin, & the rats of RatRaisins, Inc.  
Use of images and/or text without permission is prohibited.