Dear Fellow Bloggers,

For those of you who don't know, I am a former rat owner.
Hector, Vulcan and Otto Octavius were my little pets.

They would come to my whistle, sit on my shoulder while I typed essays, play with and groom my dog, come to class with me in my purse, and keep me in good spirits.

Each had his own personality: Hector was kind and mellow, real cuddly; Vulcan was real pisser, loved beer and rucus in general; and Otto was like a little shy shadow.

My father and I built them a rattie palace out of wood, much like a cabinet with a wire mesh front door and holes in each shelf. I loved them.

That being said... in owning rats I discovered an entire subculture of rat owners even more zealous than I.

(explore at your own risk)

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