They're good rats, bront.

They're good rats, bront.

Manawa was that mine-sniffing giant African Pouched Rat that was clearly very good at his job, as he was able to retire (last year?) after clearing out over a million square feet of land.

The last time I had rats was about seven years ago. When they finally passed I was terribly broken-hearted and couldn't bear to get another set. So I didn't. But just before COVID shut everything down, I decided then was as good as time as any.

My plumpling is fat and lazy, is more likely to have left landmines behind, and seems happiest getting cheerios crumbs down the back of my shirt. I got him from the feeder aquarium along with a couple of others that he's outlived (cancer got one, other succumbed to a respiratory ailment, I think) two years ago. He wasn't the friendliest at first, but when I got a new pair to keep him company, he helped teach them to be sweet (if annoying) plumplets.

He's getting slower and can't jump as far, but he'll still playful enough.

I'm dreading him leaving this year. Part of me thinks I should try to rehome the surviving pair, because I don't think I can deal with them dying, too.