Appaws

 
Tonight was a big night in the rodent realm: the Hammy Awards took place! That’s short for Hamster Howling Awards, created in the late 1950s to honor accomplished squeaking hamsters. Over the years more rodent species took part, and eventually the “Howling” was dropped because rodents make all kinds of noises when we squeak, not just howls. “Hammy” also came to stand for some of the fleadiculous performances that take place during the ceremony. We may all be rodents, but some of them are real hams – and it’s not just the guinea pigs.
 
Squeaking artists nationwide gathered in the sewers under Paws Angeles this evening. Everyone from Pawdonna to Black Plague Sabbath to Pawbin Thicke was there, whose squeak “Blurred Lines” was a scuttle-away hit with the vision-challenged rodent community last summer.
 
Hammy performances certainly lived up to their name, with Fleaoncé and Paw McCartney showing what rodentertainment is all about. But it was Reneé Fleaming who brought the burrow down, with a stirring – and very loud – operatic act. In fact, the humans hosting the Grammys at the Staples Center directly above us didn’t know what to make of the vibrating ground, as most California earthquakes aren’t accompanied by screeches.
 
Pawful performances aside, the artists were really there for the awards. Natalie Grant’s “Furricane” won in the Gospel category, Pink’s “Just Give Flea a Reason” took Best Scratch, and my favorite group, Pentapawnix, won the coveted award for paw cappella squeaking.
 
But far and away the biggest award went to the Kia Hamsters in their car commercial set to Dame Gaga’s tune “Appaws,” which is the latest hit in advertising. And I suppose it was fitting: after all, this is the Hamster Awards. Now as to whether Dame Gaga fulfilled the part of “Howling,” that’s up for debate.
 
Keepin’ it squeak,
Bob

Tourist Rattractions

 

I’ve often squeaked of my hometown, Ratlanta, located in the heart of America’s Deep South. If you’ve never visited, I encourage you to do so! It’s a squeaktacular place to be. And when you come, I recommend skipping the traditional bike and Segway and driving tours and just take a shortcut like we rats do – via the sewers.
 
Of course the sewers are the most efficient means of scuttling around! Our city is beyond well known for the fleadiculous traffic gridlock you humans endure, and odds are if you’re trying to get from Point A to Point B via the traditional routes, you’ll be squeak outta luck. Besides, with the record rainfall the city got last year that blockage under Fourth Street has been clear for months.
 
While you’re here there are a lot of great things to see. At least, I’m told they’re great to see: rats have poor eyesight and rely mostly on our muzzles to sense the world, and I like what I smell at these places. A trip to the Georgia Aquarium is pawsome, especially the dog shark tank, because they eat the catfish. Also sniff out the gold dome of the Georgia State capitol. Yes, it really is painted in gold mined from the North Georgia Mountains. I suggested they paint the dome with cheese, but melted roofs are no Gouda and Georgia summers do get very hot. Satisfy your rumbly tumbly with a wiener from the world’s oldest hot dog conveyer belt at the Varsity (you know how I like dogs); I recommend the cheese nachos as a side dish. And finally, end your day at my favorite rattraction: Underground Ratlanta. Any place that recognizes the pawsomeness of the rat-dwelling underworld is magnifleacent in my book. Besides, if you get there via my suggested route, you won’t even have to climb to get to street level!
 
I hope you do come to Ratlanta – as the name squeaks, it’s a rat-tastic place to be! And do please give consideration to a sewer tour, because if you don’t you’ll probably end up in that infamous traffic gridlock all day long.
 
Keepin’ it squeak,
Bob

Micicle

  

Holy moley! 2014 has started out with not just a squeak, but an outright screech! A polar vortex of cold air has swept down from Canada covering all but three of the pawntinental United States with some amount of snowfall, and causing a record low of 6°F in my hometown of Ratlanta, Georgia this morning.

 

I decided to make merry with the frigid temps and scuttle about outside, and even found to my delight that my humans’ fountain had frozen into my own personal ice skating rink! I reasoned that with my rat-tastic high metabolism I should be able to spend hours on the ice. Unfurtunately, I didn’t factor in my small size quickly losing body heat, and I found out very quickly that, in this freeze, the old adage “cold paws, warm heart” does not at all apply. Shiver me whiskers – it’s cold out there!

 

So while we wait for the day that “Holy moley” becomes “Holy smokes,” as was the case for our record-setting highs in 2012, I encourage you to stay inside snuggled in your nestlet, lest you become a frozen micicle – er, icicle – like I almost did!

 

Keepin’ it squeak,

Bob