Paws and Rewind

 
2011 has come to an end, and what a rat-tastic year it’s been! My wife, Bobette, is currently raiding the fridge of our human family’s kitchen for some cheese cube hors d’oeuvres for our New Year’s Eve celebration, and the pups are looking forward to staying up past their bedtime and throwing scraps of nestlet fodder into the air at midnight (it’s the rodent version of confetti). So while they’re in the other section of the burrow scampering about, I thought I’d take a moment to nestle down and reflect on all of this year’s happenings.
 
Current events were certainly not a disappointment, with several stories making news headlines. We saw joyous events, like Britain’s royal wedding, as well as intimidating ones, like further dips in our economy. We had occasions to laugh and ones to feel solemn, and days filled with commotion as well as with rest. In fact, from sporting events to TV entertainment and everything in between, I had trouble keeping up with it all!
 
All of us in the Rat hovel managed to stay healthy this year despite a few tussles with the flu and some fleas, and even craziness with the weather didn’t dampen our spirits. Spring brought celebrations like St. Ratrick’s Day and Easter (I'm still enjoying those blue cheese eggs), as well as opportunity to get a little spring cleaning done. Summer saw several vacations (soaking up the sun’s rays on Florida's sugar-white sands helped me shake the water from my whiskers after rafting on a river), the celebration of our nation’s independence, unfortunately emergence of a mosquito or two, and the one-year anniversary of the launching of Bob’s Blogs. (Remember, you can also sniff me out on Muzzlebook, scratch me by flea-mail, and listen to my squeaks on Twitter!) A return to the cooler months had the pups begrudgingly back in school, but I think they might have been sneaking some comic books in with their class work underneath Bobette’s muzzle. And of course the winter brought with it the craziness of the pawlidays, but also the gathering of family and celebration of the reason for the season.
 
The new year brings with it new resolutions (perhaps I’ll stop procratstinating getting my pratstate checked at the vet), so I encourage you to be persistent in pursuing your goals, remember to take time for family, be brave in spite of what may come your way, and in all things give thanks. My beady red rat eyes look forward to seeing you in 2012, so until then keep it squeak!
 
Keepin’ it squeak myself,
Bob

Christmouse

 
Merry Christmouse, everyone!
 
Ah yes, that most joyous of days has arrived, the one around which the entire kid year revolves … and to which we adults look forward with no less anticipation. No more cheesy holiday song spin-off TV and radio commercials (the malls can wait another year to be decked), and yes more fun, family, and food! Thankfully the Grinch didn’t visit our hovel this year, so we had plenty of crumbs that, though individually were too small for a mouse, added up to be a squeak-a-licious feast indeed.
 
This year I again went caroling with the Historic Rex Village Association (we had a rat-tastic time, just like last year), although this time I stayed out of sight. (For whatever reason some people are scared of rats. Go figure! But I felt it best not to frighten the carolers – or carolees – away.) I tried to get the human in whose pocket I was hiding to convince the others to sing a few rounds of “O Christmas Cheese” and “Santa Paws Is Coming to Town,” but there were no takers. I also pulled a bit of a prank on my family before Santa came: this year they got a few lumps of coal in their nestlets. (A few days ago I told them that Santa was making a list, checking it twice, and was gonna find out who was naughty or mice.) I think they figured out the joke, though, when they discovered that it was the instant-light briquette kind. (Still had a good squeak about it, though!)
 
Today being Sunday, my family and I also thought it important to attend service at our church and celebrate with others the true meaning of the season. The pups put on a wonderful play depicting the Christmas story spoken of in Luke 2:1-14 – with a bit of a rodent twist, of course. For one thing, we had wise mice instead of wise men, and the shepherds were herding flocks of hamsters rather than sheep. (At shearing time they harvest fleas instead of fleece, with great stocks of Flea-Be-Gone – and anti-itch cream in case those little buggers make a squeak for it.) We all scattered, though, when a couple of cats strolled in to leave presents of gold, frankincense, and purr!
 
Yes indeed I’ve had a very merry Christmouse, and hope you have as well. So in the words of my favorite Christmousetime carol,
 

I wish you a squeaky Christmouse,
I wish you a no-flea Christmouse,
I wish you a cheesy Christmouse,
And a ratty new year!

 
Keepin’ it squeak,
Bob

Not Even a Mouse

 

’Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
not even a mouse.

 
Well, if no one is stirring, I suppose that’s bad for this Christmas feast’s cheese fondue pot: the cheese may very well clump together. Better crank up the heat on that bad boy and wake someone up to get it going again!
 
With Christmas just one week away, I hope you’re making your final preparations for a festive holiday time. Hopefully you’re wrapping up your shopping (literally!) and, if necessary, making mad dashes to the mall to pick up those last-minute stocking stuffers. Careful, though: those places can sometimes be so crowded that you’ll feel like you’re being herded along like rattle – er, cattle, and locating your car in the crowded parking lot may make it seem like you’re a mouse in a maze trying to find the cheese at the end. (If you find it, would you please share some with yours truly?)
 
Christmastime can certainly feel crazy, what with the afore-mentioned shopping, millions of activities to get to, and visiting those relatives who make family dynamics seem more like family dynamite. Then there are the commercial Christmas song parodies that are more annoying than a bad case of fleas (really, how many more times do we have to suffer through “Deck the Malls”?), but even in this, I strive to remain a contented rat. (At least with the last one I can stuff some fodder from my nestlet into my ears.) I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of those who are lonely this year; maybe they’ve lost a loved one, maybe they’re themselves forgotten. (Maybe they never came home.) Let’s be thankful, too, that we have ears to hear those annoying commercials, and that there’s flea medicine to stop that scratching! (What? I figured you had enough of a lecture on priorities!) This Christmas, let’s draw together in love so that not even a mouse feels left out. And whatever you do, be sure to keep stirring the cheese in that fondue pot – I’m hungry!
 
Keepin’ it squeak,
Bob

It’s the Pawliday Season

 
In case you haven’t noticed recently, what with the overcrowded malls, decorating of evergreens, and reports of bloodshed as people mob stores in search of that perfect Christmas gift, the pawliday season has indeed arrived. And I imagine that most of you have been dashing through the snow in a one-horse open sleigh (well, maybe not: it’s not the most efficient means of travel) as you rush to all the activities, concerts, and parties this time of year brings.
 
We in the Rat hovel have likewise been very busily scampering around, stringing nestlet fodder in festive fashions and making sure the cheese balls we’ll bring to our ratty friends’ get-togethers are as squeak-a-licious as can be. My wife, Bobette, and I are looking forward to a brief getaway at a cottage in the mountains (or, if we can’t manage that, at least go to a cottage cheese mountain), and our octuplets, Harry, Larry, Barry, Jerry, Mary, Sherry, Kerry, and Terry are beside themselves with excitement waiting for Santa Paws to make his annual visit. (This year they’re all hoping he’ll leave cheese nips in their droppings – er, stockings.)
 
We’re also looking forward to making the rounds visiting our comrats: my corpulent pal Gus, who puts the “Gus” in “disgusting” with the gross grub that comprises his diet, is sure to have a block of limburger waiting for us when we stop by his sewer, while his antithesis, Slim, will likely be serving part-skim mozzarella. But as much as I value what’s on my plate, I enjoy spending time with my ratty companions even more.
 
Likewise, I hope your pawliday festivities will be filled with family, friends, fun, and food, and that you won’t be left in a ratatonic state after consumption of the latter. So while the merry bells keep squeaking, Happy Pawlidays to you!
 
Keepin’ it squeak,
Bob