The AristocRats

 

This past Friday the entire world was enratured by the royal wedding of Prince William of Wales to his college sweetheart, Kate Middleton. Among the 1,900 wedding attendees were many members of the United Kingdom’s aristocrats, including singer Elton John, actor Anthony Hopkins, and of course Elizabeth II, the Queen (and Prince William’s proud grandmother) herself. What most of you humans didn’t know, however, is that there were also a number of aristocrats in attendance.

 

Ah yes, the wedding wouldn’t be complete without the presence of the royal rodent high society.

 

… What? You don’t think our kind have peeps (er, “squeaks,” rather) in the higher-ups across the pawnd? How unsqueakable! And just where did you presume all of the immigrant rat stowaways who hid in the bowels of yesteryear’s ocean-traversing ships came from, if not from Europe, hmm? No, it was from there that we hail indeed. And just like with you humans, our more notable (and certainly more well-to-do) cousins have remained in the homeland, and they would by no means miss such an important occasion as the wedding of the second in line to the throne himself.

 

And the pomp and circumstance surrounding the ceremonies was squeaktacular indeed. Of particular note regarding the fashion scene was the stunning array of rat hats worn by the dames … some of which looked better than others. (Most of the attendees were going for a dramratic look, and some stood out as quite rat-tastic while others were downright pawful. I myself am not into hats – they tend to slide off from between my ears – but one thing is for sure: those Brits do indeed have a different fashion sense than we in the States embrace.) Not to be outdone, the sires made sure that their fur was unruffled and their whiskers well-groomed, many of the older gentlerats even curling them into a Q.

 

The procession taking place in Westmuenster Abbey, our royal rodent brethren were quite glad, peeping out from between the legs of the human nobility, to watch the happy couple exchange their vows. But according to the roving rodent reporters who covered the event, best of all was the reception, as the aristocrats had a corner on the market for – you guessed it – the wedding cheesecake. Yes, while Prince William and his bride were cutting a rug on the dance floor, our European elitists stole more than one little nibble from that delectable delicacy, going completely unnoticed by the joyous revelers around them (some of whom probably had just one too many margaratas). And as the reception wound down our cousins silently made their way back into the night and on home to their hovels in the sewers, crossing London Bridge on the way which, thankfully, did not fall down.

 

So today the United Kingdom has itself a new royal couple in which to delight, and the rats of Great Britain too take great pride in that most squeaktacious event which, for a few hours, held the whole world in its paws. And the curly-Q’d gentlerats are happiest of all, for they are still nibbling on the cheesecake that got caught in their whiskers.

 

Keepin’ it squeak,

Bob