I used to have a pet rat named Mozart. He was a gift from a girl named Sonja. As was my habit, I was in love with Sonja. She wasn’t having any of it. This was probably for the best, as she ended up dropping out of school in some form of disgrace.
I don’t think Mozart was too happy. I wasn’t really prepared to keep a pet rat. After rooting through the closets for some vessel suitable for rat support, I found an old aquarium one of my brothers used to house a hermit crab years prior. I threw a bunch of crap in it — gnawable stuff, strings, toilet-paper tubes, and other things I figured a rat might like.
I wouldn’t say I was a bad pet owner. I was simply an incapable one. The tools weren’t there but the desire was. One day I woke up and looked at that rat and said, “Mozart, I’m sorry.” I hid him in my pocket and let him go in the bushes outside the school.
Realistically, Mozart probably died. He didn’t grow up in an environment that would teach him how to survive when abandoned. Rats are hardy — maybe he did just fine — but I don’t harbor any illusions about my role in his fate.
That poor rat was doomed. Sonja brought him to school in her purse with a bunch of other rats. I took him home and boarded him in an inappropriate container. Then I turned him loose. I didn’t even look back to the bushes to see where he went. If he went anywhere, that is.
What are the odds.. I used to have a hampster named Wolfgang.
I used to take him for trips in the armpit of my jacket and one day he just crawled out along the sleeve and I didn’t notice…til I was off the subway.
:/
Sometimes, your ability to tell a story truly takes my breath away.
And did this memory surface because of its metaphoric similarities to things in your life right now? Or just a random blip on the creative radar?
Rats are pretty self sufficient. Even the ones that are around humans from birth will reevert to a wild state after about a week of in-exposure. You probably did the right thing in letting him go.
In a side note to the first person that replied: There is no ‘p’ in the word hamster.
Go, Mordecai!
I am wondering if this is some kind of metaphore…
I hear there are Bald Eagles in America.
They eat rats, right?
I had a pet rat. His name was Rat-Rat and he was a very sweet animal. Since he was the offspring of lab rats he had a lot of health issues towards the end of his life.
I think the biggest similarities in our stories is that Rat-Rat, much like you, never told me how to brine pork chops.
Also, this girl your knew was quite the git to stick you with an unwanted pet like that.
I had a rat called Boo. When we moved, I couldn’t care for him so I let him go. I put him down at the foot of our steps and watched while he sniffed for a while then wandered away; I hoped he’d be okay but felt sure he’d be eaten within hours. And I knew that partly, it was because he wasn’t as much fun as I thought he’d be and he tended to pee on things.
Thanks you for letting me remember that.