Last night saw the arrival of some squeaktacular storms here in Ratlanta. Indeed, with all the torrential rains, tornados, hail, and lightning, it was certainly a night fit for neither man nor beast. (I’m not squeaking that I’m a beast, mind you, but you get the idea.)
It’s safe to say that no one in the rat hovel got a lot of sleep last night … too much thunder. (We rodents have sensitive ears.) But my brood and I huddled together for safety, and my wife, Bobette, and I made sure our pups stayed safe and sound.
I was more concerned for my rat pal Gus, who resides in the sewers. For while the city’s sewer inspectors are now quite happy that the blockage under Fourth Street is no longer a problem, I was very worried that Gus would become, well, a drowned rat. But this morning he posted on Muzzlebook that he’s alright, so I am rat-tastically relieved.
I, however, had my own challenges with becoming a drowned rat. Once day broke and the rain showers were over, I crept from my hovel to rustle up some rat chow and accidentally fell out of a window. (The sill was still slick.) Thankfully I landed in the bed of my human family’s truck, which was filled with about twenty gallons of water courtesy of the storm. And I made a surprising discovery: due to the fact that I’m made of rubber, I float. I didn’t even have to swim! And as an added bonus I’ve had my bath for the day, so hopefully Bobette won’t bother me about keeping my fur well groomed for a while.
If you reside in Ratlanta, I hope you stayed safe in last night’s storms. But if the unthinkable happened and you had a roof collapse because of a downed tree or experienced some flooding in your home, look on the bright side: at least you’ve had your bath for the day, and you don’t have to worry about that blockage anymore.
Keepin’ it squeak,
Bob
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