I live in Greenwich Village in Manhattan, right above Washington Square Park. Often, I go drinking below the park with a group of girls I’m close to.
They’re always muttering about the “chipmunks” we see running across the sidewalks in the park around 2 or 3 AM.
Bravo, Trupa, bravo!!!
Thanks kindly, 'mam. And a tip of the hat to your Ma, whose story poked my memory. Popped it, indeed. 
I’d like to point out that, although my rat story is disgusting, I don’t have any fear or hate issues with rats. The horror is centered on the condition of the rat.
Upon request, I wrote out my rat story and emailed it to the Furthur household. So, sending it to someone else would be a 4-click process.
I have definite rat karma. Two interesting stories come to mind.
Being a reptile collector as a kid (the father figure in my life was into snakes and therefore so was I), I had my share of snakes and the larger ones requires rats as snake food. Later, one snake, the final one I owned before ditching the hobby, required rabbits. Once he confused my foot for a rabbit. But that’s for a different post.
Anyhow, during said snake’s adolescence, I fed it rats. A concern for feeding live animals to the snake is the likelihood the rat would bite it. We were taught that one must “thump” the critter to daze it, thus preventing it from gathering its bearings and do any biting.
FTR, this activity now strikes me as completely barbaric behavior. Said father figure did it, so I did it. End of story.
Not end of story.
The best way to “thump” a rat we eventually discovered was by holding it by its tail, and then swing it with a great bit of force up against a wall. The rat with eventually convulse and oftentimes be knocked unconscious.
So one night I’m running late for my bartending job and am in a hurry to get my python fed. I pulled the rat from the paper bag, but didn’t get a very firm grip on the tail. I swung it against the wall, which caused the rat to go into convulsions and spin wildly. Sure as shit, the tail broke off and said rat was suddenly free in my room. And I didn’t have time to recapture it because I was late for work.
So wouldn’t you know it, a hot woman named Claudia – who would eventually become my girlfriend and then emotionally destroy me for a couple years when she ended up marrying a friend of mine – ended up at home with me (for the first time). In my bed. For whatever reason, I had to look under the bed for something and there it was, the rat staring right back at me, about three inches away. Also worth noting, my two iguanas were out of their cage and also under the bed. But I played it cool and got Claudia out of the house that night without seeing the rat. But in the middle of the night, had to be about 5am, I felt a nibbling on my nose. It was the rat. I woke up, and had the presence to not move an inch. I reared back my fist and took a wild swing to smack it away, but missed. The rat made it back under my bed to live another day. Three days actually, IIRC.
I eventually caught it and fed it to my snake. However, after telling my softball team the story my nicknamed forever became “Rat Boy.”
Looking back now, the sad part is that the rat was not trying to bite me, but offering me affection. Domestic rats are very friendly and loving animals and that’s one way the express their love.
It actually pains me emotionlly when I consider how callously I behaved to such genuinely sweet creatures.
My then ex-girlfriend Madison was in Malibu killing some time a few years back and wandered into a pet store. For whatever reason, the dogs and cats were off limits (cage cleaning time, IIRC), so she wandered over to the rat cages. One baby rat crawled onto her hand and then onto her shoulder and then fell asleep.
Madison being Madison, she bought the critter. Even though she couldn’t keep it at home where she had two cats and a skitterish roommate. She asked me to take it. I did. The constant interaction regarding the rat’s care eventually got us back together. Then we got engaged. Then we got married. Now we have a child.
But Little Buddy, as he came to be known, fell into poor health, likely due to neglect when said child came along and passed away a few months ago. But he was a terrific pet. As sweet an animal as you could have.
Sidenote: rock singer Pat Benatar was in the pet shop with her children that fateful day and they were all adoring the site of my wife with the rat.
[QUOTE=Moonchild
Looking back now, the sad part is that the rat was not trying to bite me, but offering me affection. Domestic rats are very friendly and loving animals and that’s one way the express their love.
It actually pains me emotionlly when I consider how callously I behaved to such genuinely sweet creatures.[/QUOTE]
If they nibble you on the nose they love you? I don’t need this love!
Glad to see you are a reformed rat hater 
Personaly I am still not fond of the wild variety.
Moonchild, you’re not kidding about the “thumping” part. When I got a Kingsnake, it was the first snake that I owned that got big enough to need rats instead of mice. I didn’t thump the rat hard enough and it came to before the snake got around to biting it. Consequently, the rat put up a fight and although the snake did catch and eat it, Mr. Kingsnake would not touch rats from then on. Instead, he would curl up on his side of the cage while the rat investigated the other side. Until I threw the rat in with the year-old python.
That rat was a hero to his species. By fighting to the death he saved other rats from the jaws of the kingsnake. The mice that had to take their place are not so happy about it.
When I was a kid we lived in Naples, Italy for awhile in a fourth floor apartment. My bedroom window overlooked a rat-infested, trash-strewn alley (actually, back then, any street or thoroughfare in Naples would qualify as a rat-infested, trash-strewn alley!). When bored, my friends and I would drop ice cubes into the alley trying to hit the rats. I don’t recall ever actually hitting one but the near hits were great. When an ice cube would explode on the greasy cobble-stones next to a rat, it would launch up into a twisting, bucking, rodeo leap of sheer panic then disappear into a dark, fetid pile of garbage. A little amusment for dull days.
Yes, I too know the great joy of rat ownership. I used to breed them for snake food and labs. All of the smart and affectionate ones I would keep as pets. On holloween I used to answer the door with one or two on my shoulders.
But, living in Hawaii will get you some not-so-cute rats.
A few months ago my husband and myself bought a house out in the country. It had been used for the last 20 years by Hippies. Not your nice, friendly peace and love hippies; these were the dirty and smelly variety. The whole house smelled of Patchouli and funk. Ewwww…
We were demolishing the kitchen on the second floor. As Hubbie pulled out the stove he noticed little green pellets, similar to rabbit food rolling around. He asks me, “What do you suppose these are?”
No sooner did he ask, than a huge rat popped his head out of one of the burners. “What are you doing to my home” kinda look. Rats eyes get big. Husbands eyes got even bigger. Husband grabs the entire stove, and chucks it out the second story window. :eek:
Turns out the hippies were putting rat poision IN THE STOVE. So everytime they cooked… No wonder they were so retarted. I just thought they smoked too much Maui Wowie. I shoulda known they were WAY beyond just pot.
We killed 20+ rats the first week we had possession of the house. These people obviously had no idea what to do about the rat infestation besides poision themselves.
I’m glad you feel remorse about it…I could not ever conceieve hurting one of my girls. A couple times I accidentally pinched a toe or two in the cage door and felt awful when I heard their little squeak.
That being said, there’s not enough positive rat stories in this thread. I’m rather depressed reading about rats suffering. 
Many years ago, I was living in Marin County, CA; known more for hot tubs and rich ex-hippies than for rats. My house had a backyard with an ivy-covered fence, which apparently had become a rat hotel, as I discovered when taking out the garbage one night and seeing a rat sitting on the garbage can.
So we called an exterminator, who put out poison. And as he’s leaving, he says, oh by the way: the poison causes the rats to become disoriented, so you may see more of them before they’re all dispatched. Swell.
And to top it off, this is right before our annual Memorial Day family barbecue, and my mother has an intense phobia about all things rodentish. And we didn’t want to share the news about the rat problem, for fear of putting off our guests; so we passed the day expecting that at any moment, a rat would come staggering out of the ivy, clutching its chest, saying “Mother of mercy, is this the end of Rico?” and collapsing in a twitching heap at my mother’s feet. Spent a lot of time suggesting that our company spend more time indoors, despite the beautiful weather.
(it’s somewhat anti-climactic to report that we never saw any rats that day, or ever again.)
My ex-husband and I had a former farmhouse in rural Bucks County, PA for several years. We had a couple of dogs, a golden retriever and a Newfoundland. When we started seeing brown and white spotted barn rats outside, we got nervous for fear one of the dogs would try to take one on and get bitten by a potentially rabid rat, so we put out poison.
Some weeks later, I had some foot surgery and was at home for a few days. One morning, I was startled to hear ferocious barking and growling coming from the kitchen. Upon investigation, I discovered that there was a rat in the kitchen and the dogs, not really wanting to take it on directly, were pawing at it and occasionally tossing it in the air. After a couple of minutes, the rat was apparently dead - it had seemed pretty sluggish and even disoriented to begin with.
Well, I disposed of the rat. Then a few days later, another rat, dead this time and apparently of natural causes, turned up in the yard. Then another. Being an idiot, and having completely forgotten the poison, I begin to wonder - just what the heck is killing off all of these rats?
Fortunately, I remembered the poison before going to the expense of taking one of the bodies for testing.
But I quite like rats as pets, although I can’t own any due to my two Great Danes. IMHO, they’re much, much better pets than rabbits or other herbivores, being far brighter, more curious, and interested in interacting with humans with very little fear. Although I’ve known downright vicious rabbits as well as bold ones pretty willing to deal with humans, none of them really care much for being held and all of them are much more likely to be fearful. Rats don’t seem to fear predators very much.
Oh my. I’m going to be the first to admit that I could barely look at even the first post much less the whole thread - I skimmed your stories because I am so sickened by rats - which I know is lame and immature but still… listen to this story and you might understand why…
I came home from being out-of-town to my urban basement apartment. I got into bed and fell asleep. That night and the next, I kept waking up to feeling weird things at the end of my bed - but it felt just like my cat walking around getting settled like he usually does. Another night passed. Then I came home and my room reeked. I couldn’t figure it out - I loooked high and low and found no dead rodents. Weird. I sat down on the end of my bed to ponder the situation and put my hand down on the most solid, weird-feeling mass that was under my covers. A roommate and I then extracted a dead, decaying RAT from inside my duvet cover. That’s right, he had crawled in there one of those nights, then died. He had been a part of my comforter for 4 days. I slept with a rat. And the cat thing? Yeah, I didn’t mention at the start of the post that the cat no longer lived with me! :smack:
One of my first pet rats was the best. I called him PT, and he had the best trick ever.
You would point your finger at him, and say “Bang!” He would then filp onto his back, twitch for a moment, and then lay still. 
Strange thing is, I got him as a tiny baby, and I never taught him the trick. He just started doing it one day. Of course, I thought it was the coolest thing ever, and he got many MANY rat treats outta this.
He also liked to dance on his hind paws when certain types of music came on. It was like he was slow dancing with himself, slowly swaying to the music… (Slow dancing, swaying to the music… ohooo…)
None of my other pet rats were ever as cool, but all were very lovable. They were all domesticated lab rats basically.
Now huge honkin’ Norway rats tree, rats and hawaii coconut eating, pot smoking get high on rat poision rats are diffrent. WAY DIFFRENT. They are the mafia of the rat world. They will shake you down for your bubble gum. They will CHASE DOGS. :eek:
Here’s a tale, both yukky (for some), and endearing (for others): I have a pet rat … who grooms my teeth. Yes, she walks up to my shoulder, pulls my mouth open, and gets down to it. An interesting experience, rodentistry.
My cats don’t do this, but then again, if a cat tried to place its entire head inside your mouth, you’d know about it…
OK then…we’ll see you on the Letterman show Stupid Pet Tricks segment…I think you got a free trip to New York just waiting for you. Send that video in!
Yeah, Little Buddy (my recently departed pet rat) was just a terrific pet. Because he got dumped onto me by my SO, I didn’t have a cage and got tired of him pooping in the bottom drawer of my dresser, so his next residence was in my garage. My office was down there and every time I went down to do work, I could hear him making his way from his home onto my desk. Took him five minutes, but he never missed a session, usually crawling up my arm and onto my shoulder. Eventually, SO (who is more than a bit worrisome) insisted Little Buddy be relocated into an indoor cage because there was another rat that in the garage and she didn’t want Little Buddy associating with the “riff-raff” as she called it. Like, was the riff-raff going to push Little Buddy to try cigarettes or something???
Before me and mrs.lanelee were married we were in a pet shop (I was an aquarium enthusiast). Anyway, we were walking side by side, cozy like, and then, as if by magic, she was on the other side of the store, just as far away from me as we could get. I glanced around and saw a small aquarium with a bunch of white mice jumping up and down at the sides. I walked over to mrs.lanelee and casually inquied, “Are you afraid of mice?”
She answered, “Those aren’t mice, they are big hairy rats with red eyes!!! Keep them away from me!!!” :eek: :eek: :eek:
This was a phobia that would entertain me for most of the seventeen years we were together, rest her soul!