I was out walking tonight, and boy, you could see the stars. One of the Dippers was up there, but I can’t tell the Big from the Little.
It is odd that the stars look so tiny, yet they are so immense and we are the small ones.
They say the iron in the stars is the same as in our blood.
Our sun isn’t that big. I guess Antares dwarfs our sun.
But I think we all have this weird fondness for our sun, because it gives us life and sustains our planet.
While I was typing this, I looked over and my pet ratty, Kow, was looking at me. He has a story behind him. I found him in a pet store in Indiana, and he was a tiny baby in a cage near the door. They were giving him away. I asked why, and they said he was injured. He was frightened and did not want to come out of his cage, but when I looked in there, one of his eyes was missing. It was pretty bad. I went home that night, and thought about him for days, and went back and got him before he became a snake snack.
The store told me that someone had put him in with some adult males and they attacked him.
I took him to an exotic animal vet. She checked him out and said his eye would heal, but of course, he could not see out of it. She gave him antibiotics and some pain meds.
I fixed a cage for him with a bed, a wheel, and food, water and chewing toys.
I named him Kow, because he looks like a black and white cow.
Kow has a strange relationship with me. He does not want to be held or touched. But he comes over to the cage edge and presses his face to the grating and closes his eyes. He likes to be talked to. I have actually seen him sigh when I talk to him.
He is so smart, he never forgot how he was attacked as a baby. Now that he is a big guy, you can see the scars on his face where he was attacked. I wish I could take that away from him. He would be a smart rat and a lot of fun to play with.
He is so small with a big heart.
Rats make great pets. No barking, no policing the lawn, no shots, no licenses. They self litter train and only use one corner of their cage. They love attention and are very sociable. Like little dogs. They know their names and other words. I had one that would come out and sit on top of the cage like someone sitting on their porch. She never left the top of the cage, either. She was affectionate and would lick my hand like a dog. They don’t bite and all the urban myths about them are as distant as a wild wolf is from a domesticated dog.
I actually had one, Harry, who developed diabetes. They had drawn blood and the poor guy, who had gained a lot of weight, actually had it. Harry had to give up his Scottish shortbread cookies.