Spawtacus

  
Today has been a pretty rainy one here in Ratlanta. This is great for helping the unsqueakable drought we’re in (even the sewers are nearly bone-dry!). But the slick earth has brought with it just a little bit of slipping around, and more than just a little bit of mud.
 
The wet brown stuff has, however, conjured up a little nostalgia. You see, in my wilder days as a pup I was a mud wrestler! My stage name? Spawtacus, of course! Who better to channel than that great gladfleator of old in order to instill fear and trembling in the hearts of my oppawnents?!
 
I remember my greatest match ever, against Nero the Knockout. This mighty murine was as muscular as they make, because not only did the nickname “Knockout” describe his powerful paws, it also stood for the weakness gene he was missing from his DNA. (He started life as a genetically modified laboratory mouse.)
 
On the day Nero and I wrestled, the pit was pawticularly muddy because it had rained cats and dogs beforehand. (We had to wait a while until the cats left.) Nero came out swinging his mighty mousey paws, but I counteracted with my much longer tail. I thought he had me for a moment when he strong-pawed me to the edge of the mud pit, but when he rose up on his hind-claws to deliver the final blow, I took the pawportunity to wrap him in a bear – make that rat – hug and topple him to the ground. There were two things in that match that Nero didn’t count on: (1) I, too, was born in a lab, and got the knock-in extended life gene – which means I never squeak “die”; and (2) boxing is best reserved for bipedal creatures like humans, not top-heavy ones that scuttle on all fours.
 
My mud wrestling days are now done (in part due to the cheese belly I’ve amassed as I’ve aged), but I still look with fondness on the day I knocked the Knockout to the ground. And should Nero ever want a rematch, the undefleated Spawtacus is ready to give it to him … but in a different way: I’ll treat him to such a sweet mud pie cheesecake that we’ll be comrats for life!
 
Keepin’ it squeak,
Bob