Once upon a November, after agreeing to bag up my roommate's dead (and under warranty) goldfish, I found myself wandering through the pet store. I had planned to glance at the hamsters and gerbils for a bit. When I arrived at the small mammals section, some other creatures caught my attention. "Fancy Rat" the sign read. They were very small things, dashing around and grooming each other. I remembered that I wanted a pet rat when I was a kid but my mother gasped in disgust every time I asked for one. Now a junior in college, I decided that I wanted a pet rat. Three days later, Blake and I ventured back to Petsmart. After filling a cart with food, toys, a cage, bedding, rat furniture, and treats, it was time to pick out the rodent that would become my companion. The attendant picked up an albino one and it peed all over my hands.
"Hmmm, not this one," I said. Then the attendant lifted up the rat house. All of the rats scattered except for one. She was white with a black stripe down her back and bandit mask markings on her face. I pointed to her and the attendant placed her on my shoulder. She did not try to run away. She was curious about me.
"Well, she seems comfortable. I think this is the one!" exclaimed the attendant. I agreed. At the check out, Blake asked me what I planned on calling her.
"I have poor pet-naming skills. If it was a boy, I would just name it something simple like Max."
Lightbulb turns on.
"I could call her Maxine!!!!"
I taught her to respond to her name. If I said "kisses", she would give me a kiss. A few months later, I brought home a companion for Maxine. I called her Moo Moo. They groomed and chased each other. They cuddled up together in their hammock and in their pink igloo. Last December, I put Moo Moo to rest after the rapid growth of multiple mammary tumors. After 2 3/4 years of life, Maxine's kidneys failed today. I buried her under a white pine tree.
Goodbye, my good friend.
Sorry to hear, such is the way of things I guess.
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