Ringing In a Ratty New Year

 
Alas, 2010 has come to a close. The advent of the New Year brings with it many traditions: reflections on the year past, resolutions for the one to come, and no small amount of frivolity and pawtying on New Year’s Eve. Residents of America’s Deep South, like here in Ratlanta, Georgia where I live, also have a custom of consuming collard greens and black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day: the greens to ensure financial prosperity, and the legumes for good luck.
 
2010 has indeed been a special year for me. Perhaps the most momentous event has been the launching of this blog in mid-July, and through it I have been thrilled to bring you into my many rat-tastic adventures. From light-hearted things like taking in a NASCAR race and bringing you to my favorite sea-side saloon, Margarataville, to more serious topics, such as remembering the terrorist attacks of September 11th, I’ve been able to transport you into my world, seeing the events that happen around us from a rat’s perspective. (Watching changes on the squirrelitical scene in the wake of the November elections was pawticularly interesting.)
 
It’s also been exciting to take you into the rodent realm itself, bringing you along on my foray through the dumpsters with my rat pal Gus, observing Take-a-Human-to-Work Day as I invited you to my job as a Sewer Inspector (you know we rats just love sewers), and giving you a sneak-peek into the current events of critters like me with our very own newspaper, The Rodent Weekly. (By the way, they’re still in need of a fry cook at the China House restaurant; the position posted in the Classifieds hasn't been filled yet. If any rodents reading this are seeking employment, sniff it out.)
 
The most special times for me, however, have been those spent with the ones I love. From being christened in this new world by the people who would become my human family to having a humorous squeak with death while critter camping, spending time with these humans who so affectionately love me has been tremendously pawsome. I also got to introduce you to my lovely wife and our offspring, who most recently snuck around the hovel as I, with bated rat breath, watched Santa Paws deliver Christmas presents. Finally, I had the most squeak-tacious opportunity in my entire rat life to meet many of you, my blog followers and Muzzlebook fans, as I made my first pawsonal appearance in the village of Rex, Georgia when many of us gathered to sing Yuletide carols in early December.
 
So whether or not you consume collard greens and black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day, I hope 2011 is your most rat-tastic year yet. If you resolve, like me, to shed a few pounds (I’m beginning to develop a bit of a cheese belly), maintain your good health, or catch up on some zzzzz's, remember to be thankful for the people (and rodents!) in your life and the blessings God has given you. Stay brave (don’t be a scaredy-rat), keep your whiskers clean, and always remember to keep it squeak!
 
Keepin’ it squeak myself,
Bob

The Christ of Christmas

 
Hello, friends.
 
Have you had a merry Christmas? Spent it with family? Clawed into a hoard of ratical gifts? Supped on a squeak-a-licious Christmas dinner? (Not featuring rat meat as the main course, I hope.)
 
My Christmas – spent with my human and rodent families alike – has indeed been rat-tastic. The people reveled in their presents, including a slot-car race track for Dad (he’s really a pup at heart), beautiful pearl earrings for Mom, and lots of chocolate for the twins. My mouse wife, Bobette, and I too enjoyed our own special gifts: luxury nestlet material for her and a whisker groomer for me. We also delighted as the octuplets, Harry, Larry, Barry, Jerry, Mary, Kerry, Sherry, and Terry scratched through wrapping paper to find matching husky bran coats. (After all, as I mentioned in last week's blog, when rats marry mice we have baby rice, and our pups are brown rice; they look like their mother.) And the whole lot of us enjoyed the cheese platter left by Santa Paws. Plus, humans and rodents alike got a very special treat as the weatherman granted us Georgians an incredibly rare White Christmas here in Ratlanta.
 
But while the giving of gifts is grand and the time spent with family is fun, there’s a much more special reason we celebrate Christmas, and that, as I’m sure you already know, is the most special reason of all: to honor the birth of Jesus. This is special for rodents too, as Jesus is kind to man and beast alike. (Not to say that we’re beasts; pshaw. Now cats on the other paw – that’s a different story.)
 
Christmas is special to us because we got to be there when He was born. You didn’t think it was just donkeys and cattle in that stable, did you? No, we rodents were there too. Just think: if there had indeed been room for His parents in that inn in Bethlehem, we’d have never got to see Him! (Inn keepers generally discourage the presence of rats around their places of business … something about giving the customers a bad impression. Go figure!) But since He instead was born in that lowly manger, we got the benefit of being part of the first Christmas.
 
His parents didn’t have much to give Him – the swaddling clothes they wrapped Him in were the same materials my ancestors used as nestlet fodder – but they were full of love, and with all the body heat we generated, us animals made sure He stayed warm.
 
Even more special was when the wise men came to worship Him. We didn’t get much use out of the gifts of frankincense and myrrh they left, but Joseph used some of the gold to buy a bit of cheese! Goat’s-milk cheese, but it was still squeak-a-licious. And when the shepherds came with their sheep it was great for us rodents, because they also brought roughage to supplement the sheep’s grass diet, and we, er, helped ourselves to some of it. (Yum.)
 
But the best part of all was being there to witness the birth of the most rat-tastic person who would ever scamper over the earth – the One who would change so many lives, including mine. Yes indeed, that was the most squeak-tacious thing of all.
 
I hope you and yours have had a very merry Christmas indeed. In the midst of the hustle and bustle, though, take some time to remember the Christ of Christmas, and recognize that our God is a very pawsome God.
 
Keepin’ it squeak,
Bob

Santa Paws

 
’Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, except for a mouse.
The mouse was a-stirring, just checking to see
That all in the house were as snug as could be.
 
Her stirring awoke me from restful rat’s sleep,
So I crawled from my nestlet in darkness so deep,
Our hovel all quiet with stillness of night,
I rose to make sure everything was alright.
 
You might think it odd for a rat to give care
To a mouse ’round the house with chill in the air
So let me explain: it’s because she’s my wife;
She’s Bobette the mouse, and love of my life.
 
I heard her move ’round our hole in the wall
To make sure our kids were snug in a ball,
All crammed in a corner to keep themselves warm
Sheltered from cold of a winter’s snow storm.
 
Yes kids, I did say, for we have eight offspring
Four boys and four girls, but it’s quite a weird thing;
For you must know what happens when rats marry mice:
I’m sure you can guess it – we have baby rice!
 
I crawled to her side after having arose
Then nuzzled her muzzle with my little rat nose;
“Go on back to sleep,” I squeaked, “’til it’s day;
I’ll check to make sure everything is okay.”
 
So back to our burrow my wife she did creep
So silent she was, waking none from their sleep;
And I checked on our young, making sure they were snug,
As snug as a bug in a mug on the rug.
 
Satisfied with their safety, I too crept on back
For I was quite tired, wanting to hit the sack.
A little rat nap was what I did need,
For now I had done my fatherly deed.
 
But all of a sudden, I heard a strange noise
So I turned to make sure that it wasn’t my boys;
They like to get out, and much mischief make
And keep their rat father all up and awake.
 
My boys it was not; they were still in their ball
With four sisters there, eight rice all in all.
Realizing the date, I soon saw the cause
And knew in a flash it must be Santa Paws!
 
You humans, y’all have your tale of St. Nick,
But rodents, we’ve got a tail just as quick!
Santa Paws, he does come on the eve of Christmas
When all celebrate the birth of Jesus.
 
And presents he brings; we wish that he leaves
Some seeds, lots of fruits, and platters of cheese!
On Christmas in morn, with hope we awake
To see what’s been left … we hope not fruitcake.
 
Watching him there in the shadows I hid
For if he heard noise, he might think me a kid,
And all rodents know what Santa Paws does
If babes are around, he’ll stop – just because.
 
He wants us to know what presents we get
When Christmas dawn breaks; not before then, not yet.
But some kids can’t wait, some kids sneak around,
And sure enough mine were heard making sound.
 
I turned to the side and saw them all there;
Santa Paws saw them too, hiding by an old chair.
“Now, Harry! now, Larry! now, Barry and Jerry!
On Mary! on Kerry! on Sherry and Terry!
 
“I see you there staring with bright little eyes,
If you stay here you’ll ruin all of the surprise;
Away you should look, and turn your rice heads,
So off with you, now! Scoot back to your beds!”
 
I too snuck away, heading home to my nest,
To leave him alone; I thought it was best.
With Santa Paws’ views I also agreed,
For I too love surprises; they’re lovely indeed.
 
I nuzzled Bobette that cold eve in December,
But this night I just knew that I’d always remember.
And I heard him exclaim as he scuttled away,
“Ratty Christmas to all, and to all a good day!”
 
Keepin’ it squeak,
Bob

Christmas Carols and Critters

 
Last night roughly thirty melodious people – and one pawsome rat – gathered in the Village of Rex, Georgia, to sing to our neighbors the songs of the Season. (Well, the humans sang … I squeaked.) Starting by the old mill and crossing infamous Big Cotton Indian Creek Bridge, we hiked up the hill to the homes of many a happily startled resident: startled because caroling has sadly become an increasingly rare occurrence in the United States, and happy because they saw that our spirited serenade was sung simply to bring them joy. Several of them were so delighted that they joined us in singing to their fellow neighbors as we visited more houses. We had more fun than you could shake a candy cane at!
 
It was also the first time I made a public appearance, decked out for the holiday in my bright red Santa Paws duds. (They match my eyes.) I have to admit: my whiskers twitched with nervousness (and with cold, as the night air added a certain nip to my little rat nose) as I visited the people, but it was squeak-tastic to finally meet many of my Blog and Muzzlebook fans, and I loved making new friends with those who hadn’t yet heard of me.
 
After bringing happiness to the hearts of many Rex residents, we scampered back to the Village to make merry with each other. Supping on spiced cider, coffee, cookies, and homemade cupcakes lovingly provided by historical Rex Mill owners Jerry and Gayle and members of the Historic Rex Village Association, each of us (present rodent company included) toasted each other a wonderful Christmas, and I was happy to find no shortage of cookie crumbs as I scuttled around the feet of all the cheery people.
 
Rex has a rich history (including ties to the White House) extending all the way back to the 1800s, and is full of legends and traditions. (I told you about some of the scarier ones in my Halloween blog, The Revenants of Rex.) This was our first gathering of Christmas carolers in the Village, but with all the fun we had we plan to make it an annual event that will last for many years to come. All of us were very happy to add our own tradition to the long history of this tiny town.
 
As we concluded our caroling at each house, we sang one last song to the smiling residents: “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” So in that tradition I will squeak the same to you:
 

I wish you a furry Christmas,
I wish you a squeaky Christmas,
I wish you a cheesy Christmas,
And a ratty new year!

 
Keepin’ it squeak,
Bob