The Rat Review

by Jaden Terrell

Shamus's Baby Picture (Photo by breeder Amy Epperly)

 The last time I wrote about my rat boys was when they were babies. I had never owned rats, and I was excited and a little bit terrified. Excited, because I'd read about how smart they are, and how people-oriented, and how a lot of rat owners call them pocket dogs. Terrified, because I'd spent a lot of time on the rat forums reading posts with titles like, "My Rat Won't Stop Biting!" and "My Rat Bit Me and I Had to Get Stitches!" Some were accompanied by photos apparently designed to remind the reader that a rat can chew through a cinder block.

I was also terrified that, in my ignorance, I would do something to hurt or traumatize them, so I pored over books and articles on rat care. I scoured pet rat websites and found this amazing guidebook. I found a good rat breeder and got a waiting list, set up my "nursery," and drove several hours to Atlanta to get the boys and bring them home.  I spent several hours there getting acclimated to them and pumping the breeder for information.

I knew they'd been well bred and handled well, so based on my reading, I thought they would warm to me in a matter of days--weeks at the most. But weeks passed, and they still acted like they were terrified of my hands. They would climb all over me and take treats from me, but they did not want to petted or picked up. The breeder reassured me that this was normal, that it might take months for them to really bond with me.

Sergei's Baby Picture (Photo by breeder Amy Epperly)

So I kept trying. I made them a big play area and loaded it with places for them to play and hide, and every few days, I'd give them a pan of water so they could fish for frozen peas and blueberries. I read up on ways to enrich their environment and make their lives happier. But I couldn't get all those Rat Bite stories out of my head. I didn't think my boys would be aggressive, but they would sometimes mouth my hands or give a light pinch, and I didn't know enough about rat behavior and body language to know if they were playing or being aggressive. Very frustrating. And yet, I already loved them. They were cute and funny, and I could tell they were very bright little creatures.

Soren's Baby Picture (he's on the left - Photo by breeder Amy Epperly

Someone on the rat forum told me not to worry. They were still young, she said, and they would get cuddlier when they got a little older. Another post said that, if a rat means to bite, it will draw blood. Those little nibbles were grooming and affection.

Finally, I went to YouTube and watched about a dozen videos of people playing with and interacting with their rats. Here's one. And here's another. You have to scroll down for this one, but it's worth it. The next day, while the boys were in their play area, Shamus (the Black Irish) came up to me and nibbled my hand. Instead of curling my fingers into my palm, I said to myself, Okay, I'm just going to have to trust him. And I let him explore my hand. He took each of my fingers very gently in his mouth, then let me scratch his ears and stroke his back. Later, when I put him back in the cage, he gently grabbed my thumb in his mouth and held it there with his little paws while I rubbed his cheeks and tummy. He closed his eyes. If a rat could look blissful, he did. I fell helplessly in love.

Since then, he and Sergei climb up to my shoulders and happily let me pet them. (Soren is a little more reserved, but he's coming along.) I'm beginning to see those dog-like qualities I'd hoped for all along.

 Yep, looks like it's official. I've become a genuine rat lover.

Aw, Rats!

by Jaden Terrell

Back in the fall, my two four-and-a-half-year-old gerbils died of old age. After an appropriate grieving period, I started thinking about filling my empty office pet vacancy. I'd enjoyed the gerbils, but they weren't big on cuddling or being petted. They would run over my arms and hands and were a lot of fun to watch, but I was always afraid they'd jump out of my hands and hurt themselves. But they were clean, had hardly any smell, and were friendly and charming all their lives. If the person I'd gotten them from were still in the gerbil breeding business, I would have gotten two more, but since she wasn't, I started to look at other options.

As I'm wont to do, I read articles on a variety of "pocket pets"--sugar gliders (nocturnal), hamsters (nocturnal), African Pygmy Hedgehogs (nocturnal), chinchillas (expensive), ferrets (too big, too musky), prairie dogs (need too much space), guinea pigs (adorable, but I seem to be allergic), and rats.

Rats?

Now wait a minute, I saw Willard. I saw Ben. Shoot, a few weeks ago, an episode of Grimm showed a man being eaten by rats. When Hollywood wants to ramp up the creep factor, what''s the first thing they do? Bring on the rats. (The "rats eating humans" scenes are filmed by teaching the rats to lick peanut butter off an actor.)

But the more I read about rats, the more intrigued I became. Rat afficionados swear by the intelligence and sociability of these little animals. "The average rat is as smart as the average dog," one said, "but the smartest rat isn't as smart as the smartest dog." Still...the average dog is pretty darn smart. I learned that rats dream visually, as humans do, that they can be clicker trained to do tricks and run obstacle courses, and that there are even competitions in agility for rats. Yes, the rats go through the weave poles, jump over hurdles, and walk on balance beams or tightropes. I read about rats who come when called and prefer cuddles and tickles to treats. One study showed that rats "laugh" in ultra-sound. Scientists used equipment designed to record the sounds of bats and modulate them to a frequency humans can hear. They said that when the rats were being tickled and played with, it sounded like a human playground. Some researchers disagree, but the scientist who published the findings believes they are indeed laughing because they do it in circumstances that would evoke laughter in humans--for example, when they are wrestling or being tickled (which they seem to like, since they seek out hands that tickle more than hands that just pet), or when they are given a favorite food treat. Young rats "laugh" more than older rats, just as children laugh more than human adults.

The more I learned about rats, the more I liked the idea of having some. I mean, who wouldn't like a smart, sociable animal that seeks out human company and can learn tricks? So I tracked down the good folks at Phoenix Gate Rattery, a reputable rat breeder (yes, there are rat breeders, rat shows, rat agility competitions, rat fancy clubs, and so on) and filled out an application to "adopt" a pair of baby boys. I went that route rather than the pet store route because well bred rats tend to have better temperaments, be better socialized, and have better health than those bred for pet stores, which are often actually bred as feeder rats and often come home with respiratory infections. It was a lot like adopting a dog from a responsible dog breeder.

It's been an education, learning about bedding, nutrition, mental stimulation, and all the other things that go into raising happy, healthy rats. The boys are almost old enough to wean, and I get to pick them up and bring them to their new home next week.

Will Jared, my detective, ever be the proud (or possibly reluctant) owner of a rat? I have no plans along those lines, but since he has my palomino quarter horse, my elderly Akita, and my papillon, maybe it's only a matter of time.