Animals, family pets in particular, have always played a big part in my life. When I was little we always had one pet or two pets running around and destroying the couches, usually the typical run of the mill animal like cats and birds and dogs. I loved all those animals as members of my family and today firmly believe that kids who grow up caring for animals become more compassionate adults than those who don’t.
When I was about 8 years old my family and I went on a camping trip way out west (were the rain don’t fall) and I ended up returning home with a new pet, my first foray into the exotic – a baby Eastern Longneck Turtle. Being young and not really knowing how to take care of Mr. Yertle he didn’t last particularly long, and unfortunately for him his two hour sojourn behind the caravan fridge didn’t help his health at all either. But he was awesome and he was unique.
My love of animals extended further and I enrolled in a TAFE course on Animal Attending. I did my work experience at a local pet shop while my parents were away for a few weeks holiday. Big mistake, Mum and Dad. When they returned our family had grown and lets just say they were not very happy with these new additions. One in particular got banished to the garage until he proved himself to be as irresistible as I knew he was…..he was Barnaby, the rat. Nobody believes me when I tell them that rats are just like miniature dogs. People, we have come to realise, are rattist. “Eeeuuuuuuwwww, look at that scaly tail!”…”Eeeeuuuuuwwwww, does it have the plague?”….”Eeeeeuuuw, aren’t you afraid it will eat your face off while you sleep?”…rattist I says. If only people would take the time to look deep into their beady eyes and see the love within. Truly, its just gorgeous how they get excited when you come home and jump up and down with joy, the way they dopely try to pull a sheet of newspaper with their teeth while simultaneously standing on it, and the way they scoop out frozen peas from a bowl of water with their tiny hands and delicately nibble away. They are also useful for pest control and enjoy nothing better than chomping saisfactorily on a crunchy Cockroach. We used to take our rats for walks, sitting on our shoulders. They loved it, basking in the sun. Can’t really say the same for the people that crossed the road to avoid walking past us. Rattists.
Would *I* give you the plague?
The other pet my parents returned home to was about 50 axolotl eggs. Better known as Mexican Walking Fish. These eggs hatched into tiny tadpoles who we lovingly fed with brine shrimp, otherwise known as Sea Monkeys. We sold a bunch that survived and ended up keeping five for ourselves, each a different colour. They grew to be massive and lived with us for six years before passing away. They survived through three rounds of rats and a spree of guinea pigs too. Sturdy buggers they are. They can even regrow limbs if they get chewed off, which did happen on occasion. I wouldn’t ever keep axolotls again, or any fish for that matter, too much work. But if our kids ever utter the words “Can we please have a rat?” we’ll be jumping for joy ourselves.
Gorgeous rat pic courtesy of ‘The Dapper Rat: Showing the world just how charming rats are!’. Amen to that.
Stuff and nonsense 