Ugh

Yes.... I fear this is the syllable most often uttered by me lately. I'll leave out all the ugh crap not related to rodents (like medical crap, work crap, procrastination crap, and family crap). On the ugh-front crap for rodentia (or related looking species), I still dream about Peanut and Mugsy, which makes me sad; a friend's cute invading 'possum died, which made me sad; those Humane Society commercials are frickin' killing me. ugh.....

Saddest Rat News Ever

I am very saddened to report the loss of Peanut and Mugsy Rattray-Hendricks. I had the pleasure of rat-sitting them for a month this summer. They were wonderful beings, playful and funny, and possessing their own personalities. I cried a little (and am doing so again right now) when V called to say they had to be put down. Those of you who like cats or dogs or other pets.... you know what it is like to lose a beloved animal friend perhaps.... You may not know that rats possess that same intelligent, distinct personality that other pets... and humans possess. Anyway, RIP, Peanut and Mugsy. You may have been small in stature, but not in personality. You will be missed. I am now going to post V's obituary:


Dear friends and relatives of Peanut and Mugsy,
They were good rats, as good as rats can be, and sweet, especially Peanut. Mugsy made up with cuteness for his mildly belligerent behavior.
I took them to the vet today because of Mugsy's continued weight loss and panting and Peanut's huge tumor on his left hip. The tumor had started a few weeks ago and seemed to double in size overnight last week, to the point that it was larger than his head. The vet said that she thought it was a bone tumor and he was in pain, but was too brave to show it--or maybe I said that last part. I had noticed that he slid down the ramp last night instead of scurrying, but he never complained. The vet suspected that Mugsy had a tumor in his lungs because he sounded "rattly" when he breathed, more rattly than a rat is supposed to, I guess.
It was a difficult decision to make because they were both still eating, and it's hard to tell if a rat is miserable. I had been giving them wet cat food at night and they both loved it. However, they had stopped running in the wheel, even though Mugsy had always been an exercise fanatic; and Peanut, though he never refused anything I gave him, because he was too polite, would often grab his rat croissant and hide it for later, but never go back to it. However, they both ate their chewy treats last night and most of their banana pieces this morning along with some oats.
The vet gave them anesthesia, putting little masks over their faces before the shot, so they would go to sleep and feel no pain. She had tears in her eyes and gave me a hug when she brought them in, peacefully resting on their sides next to each other, their soft pointy faces and pink ears sticking out from the fleece blanket. I said my last goodbye, touching their delicate foreheads. They were still warm, their eyes open, and looked more peaceful and happy than I had ever seen them. Despite the ultimate cage, the variety of treats, even the outings on the bathroom floor when they would scamper up our chests to sit on our shoulders and heads, I don't think they were ever content with their lives. Every time they heard my voice, they would run to look through the bars, hoping to be stroked or played with, and I disappointed them most of the time. However, I think they probably had a fun month this June when they vacationed with their best friend Tracy, and she gave them much love and freedom to run. Their memory will remain through poetry on Tracy's rat blog.
They were good rats. They're in rat heaven, I'm sure. No more small caged animals for me.
V.

Stroking the Disticles

“Fondly Remembering the Disticles”

Valde pauci teneo vox de rati...
“Very few know the power of rats”

Peanut and Mugsy were with me a bit.
They filled my heart up with love for their tricks.
But others were filled with disgust and dismay…
“Keep rats in your house? No, no, no, nay, nay, nay!”

My brother said (cruelly) like testicles they felt.
What’s the problem with that? They make my heart melt---
Rats that is…. But I’ve no problem with testicles.
Even ones disconnected--- let’s call them disticles.

My husband was eager to see them away…
I could not their charms to his own heart sway.
Their power o’er me was really quite mystical.
I love to remember fondling the disticles.

--Tracinator (----original 2010, with some help with some help from Nicodemus)

Ali K is Back!

I must say that I find my devoted readership of two (more or less) very kind as rodent friends. I am often blessed with gems such as these:

"Jackson's Story"

Prologue
A poem requested
Rodents the theme
Which story to tell?
The favorite, I mean
A long time spent,
to get it just right
The one with the rabbit
That long crazy night
But wait, all that work
Shouldn’t I just check?
Do I really want to know,
what I start to suspect?

I Love you to death (a true story)
An adorable creature
Jackson his name
He lived in the basement
It was kind of a shame
He used to roam free
Had the run of the house
The cats didn’t chase him
He wasn’t a mouse!
(What the hell was he, anyway?)

It was status quo
till the day I came in
A huge furry creature,
with a tongue wagging grin
We were doomed from the start
Our lineage to blame
An undeniable fact
We just weren’t the same

The cats were pissed off
Disappeared God knows where
But Jackson remained at the top of the stairs
I’d lunge, he’d escape
to the basement with ease
A gate in my way,
through which no one could squeeze
What a fabulous game!
When would he appear?
This is how things would go
for over a year

He gets it , I thought
The point of this game
I would catch him once
then start over again
I couldn’t get him
Though I tried really hard
Until the night
I caught him off guard
Out of the basement he snuck
for a quick little visit
I obviously took the moment and siezed it
I licked him, pawed him with pleasure
I didn’t draw blood just for good measure
He eventually stopped moving
I got bored, went to bed
He was found a little later
Half dead in the den
In time he recovered
and it started again

Months went by
Me on probation
The cats ignoring the whole situation
But I couldn’t be watched 24/7
Especially between the hours of 9 to 11
One owner at work, the other asleep
I’d sneak downstairs
to take just a peak

One night, oh what fun!
Trapped in the pantry with nowhere to run
The game was most definitely back on
Couldn’t we do this everyday?
He always kept the boredom away (stupid cats)

He was found the next morning
all matted and wet
My playmate was gone
I had licked him to death.

Epilogue
The story told
Did I really want to know?
Could rabbits break into this one rodent show?
The world thinks they are related to rats
Quick research reveals an end to all that
But majority thinking matters
if this tale of woe be told
of a canine and her (rodent) Romeo.

----Ali K (original--- 2010)

I should add that this is her tenth anniversary too! I think a rat is the traditional tenth year gift....

E-rat-o Is My Muse

I was working on a unit for my lit class.... entitled "Love and Its Complications" and was inspired. I happened to think about the Muse of lyric poetry (particularly love poetry) whose name is Erato. Most appropriate...

"The Passionate Poet to Her (well, not really "hers"--- but temporarily so) Rats"

Come live with me and be my rats,

And we will hang, and chill, an 'at (this line is a nod to Pittsburgh).

The cages, tile, carpets, and floors...

May not be pretty, but who needs moors (those damned Brontes).

And we will sit upon the couch.

You'll dig your claws in, and I'll say "Ouch!"

We will frolic, dance, and romp.

And on your heads, I shall dare not stomp.

And I will make thee beds of Kleenex

And a thousand things on which to pee next.

A hiding place of an oatmeal box--

A nest of washcloths or old (clean) socks.

And every morning a banana slice...

Scrambled egg at night is nice...

Froot Loops, Cheez-its, Yogurt Yummies

Shall all find ways into your tummies.

And when your cage is being washed,

I'll let you watch TV, by gosh!

If these delights outweigh the cats,

Then live with me and be my rats.

---Tracinator (with a nod to Christopher Marlowe)

Rat-zza!

The Tracinator and DRHH (dear rat-hating hubby) are having friends and their hairless rats over for a pizza making party tonight. And, yes, the rats will be getting their own little 'za. I realized I needed to post something in celebration, but my house was in terrible need of cleaning, which sucked out all of my creative juices. Therefore, as I have done in the past, I appealed to my friend Nicodemus to provide a poem celebrating both rats and pizza. Here it is:

"Let the Rat Pizza Rise"

Exert yourself, the poetess cried
I need a poem, and although I've tried
My meter is mixed, my subjects are worse:
Can you please put rats and pizza to verse?

First mix flour and yeast and water
Leave for a shake of a rat's tail, you oughta
Add salt and knead it, till smooth and elastic
The rats will find the flavor fantastic

Don't top it with cheese, don't top with tomatoes
Instead use a puree of yams (sweet potatoes)
Instead use bananas or raisins or oyster
(whatever you wish to make it taste moister)

And people can eat all this rat pizza too
They might even like the sweet potato goo
So good luck to rats and to pizza and all
(but keep the cats locked in the room down the hall).

---Nicodemus (original--- 2010)

Ratigami

This image is from Nicodemus, talented ratigamist as well as rat poet.

Here is the accompanying poem:

"Paperatry in Motion"

Folding rats is not

like folding cranes. Legs, not wings,

and the tail must curl.

Nicodemus (2010--- original)

Beautiful ratigamipoeratry (which term is being trademarked as we speak, so don't even THINK about stealing it.

Limeraticks

Ah... English department meetings... I can't begin to tell you how much I love them... While important discussions were taking place about the future of the English lab, classroom availability problems, course outlines, and standards for research papers, I was able to share a recipe with YD on my right and start a joint rat limerick with Mr. Grahame-Crackers to my left and Dr. Elvis across the table. Mr. G-C contributed the first line in a comment on a previous blog. Dr. Elvis chimed in with line two. It was, I must say, a difficult line to work with, so I enlisted the help of Nicodemus (my most faithful rat poet contributor) to provide either the two short middle lines or the last one. He shot back this one almost immediately:

"BC rat v. Clemson tiger"
There once was a ratty from Broward
Whose dad was a well-known coward.
But our hero rat
Was not scared of a cat
(Except for a tiger named Howard).

Kenneth Grahame-Crackers, Dr. Elvis, and Nicodemus (2010---original)

This limeratick was clever and "blogishable," but it violated my instructions, which clearly stated that I would be able to write part of the poem. Also, upon thinking about it further, I am a wee bit distressed by the inherent classist overtones. How can a mere rat from a community college possibly compete with a ferocious research university tiger? Nico came through though and sent the following:

"Lackman Culinary Services"
There once was a ratty from Broward
Whose dad was a well-known coward.
Our rat had this trait,
So this was his fate---
He was deep-fried (once breaded and floured).

Kenneth Grahame-Crackers, Dr. Elvis, Tracinator, and Nicodemus (2010---original)

I liked this one even better:

"Scratological Scratchings"
There once was a ratty from Broward
Whose dad was a well-known coward.
With lots of rat tinkle,
Other rats he would sprinkle,
And thus with much praise he was showered.

Kenneth Grahame-Crackers, Dr. Elvis, Nicodemus, and Tracinator (2010...original)

I then received this one (update note-- I actually wrote this one myself; wine and rat correspondence do not mix):

"Limeratick Pride"
Of all the limeraticks I've read,
This one sticks out in my head.
Many rat poems
May induce groans,
But this one is sure to be cred.

Tracinator (2010---original, but with a nod to wine)

Nico then sent the following, I believe (there could still be some wine "confuzzlement"), after the gem I knocked out above (for which I erroneously credited him since, even though he is into math, he has a way with words that outdoes the Tracinator):

"Untitled"
Of all the rat limericks I've written
(Even one who lived in a mitten)
This may be the worst,
But still it's the first
One with which I've been totally smitten.

Nicodemus (2010---original, but with a nod to G and T's, I think)

"Before You Pay Your Tuition..."
There once was a ratty from Broward
Who at college felt most empowered.
But he was a jerk
And did none of his work
And now on life he has soured.

Kenneth Grahame-Crackers and Tracinator (2010---original)

I also have a bawdy one, but since this post is growing rather long, and I am unsure about some of the wording, I shall save it for another time.

New Haiku!

ImageChef.com Poetry Blender

"Grieving on Facebook
my loss of haiku prowess,
friends came through--haiku!"

Tracinator (2010--- original)

The first is a haiku about writing haiku. Perhaps metahaiku? Does such a thing exist?

"To write a haiku
about a rat, you must be
inspired by a rat."

Kenneth Grahame-Crackers (2010--- original)

Mr. Grahame-Crackers, I should add, started a nice little limerick also. I hope he will be inspired and finish it off. Swearing and sexual references are absolutely allowed on this blog, so have away!

The next haiku, I found to be haunting. And this from a rat-hater who had to be pulled into the rat poetry thing by sheer emotional exertion on my part. In other words, I was a pain in the ass until I prevailed.

"The winter moon smiles;
nibble nibble little rat--
The cheese stands alone."

Dr. Elvis (2010--- original).

Thanks for the contributions!

Peanut on My Shoulder!

The hairless rats were wicked cool. V is unwilling (understandably) to let them go, and my rat-hating husband doesn't want them permanently. We have settled upon the happy solution of "ratty-sitting." I get to take the wee dearies when needed by V, and the hubby doesn't have to commit to a rodent in a long-term way. I was mentioning to a friend today that all this happy "raticity" stems back to Niccolo, my poor deceased rat friend who inspired the blog. I needed to honor him again... I was aiming for a haiku, but needed more lines. Then I read about the tanka (five lines-- the first and third having five syllables and the rest having seven). Here is my tanka to Niccolo. I must warn my gentle reader(s) that having read a bunch of research papers, my "poetry" might suck more than usual.

"Thanka Tanka"
Nic, you changed my life.
You brought rat poems alive.
Your life here, though brief
Moved my own life in my grief...
I've made friends tho' you are gone.
Hairless rats et al. are sung.

(Tracinator----2010, original)

Rat-ackity-ness!

The rodent sestina is coming along very slowly. It is a very rigid form that I have never tried before. I have found that trying to write one is much like painting one's self into a corner. You hit that last stanza and realize there is nowhere to go. I have mastered the rodent haiku, acrostic, and parody mainly because I know I have a short attention span and don't like spending more than five minutes (ten minutes tops) on anything that requires real thought. I remain resolute though, and I hope to post a brilliant paean, in sestina form, to the rodent in the very near future. Stand by me, my lovely rat muse.

Ambitions

The Tracinator is going to attempt a rat poem in the form of a sestina. I may not be posting for a bit. I am sure that the many rat poet fans out there are sorely disappointed to hear that. It is something I feel I must do...

Another Ratcrostic

I am totally psyched about getting Will Shortz's autograph. I am doing another ratcrostic (although I shudder at the repetition) in honor of the exalted god of puzzles:

"Rat-puzzle, Let Down Your Hair"

Will..., will
I be
Largely and
Lovingly grateful (and/or)

Satisfied with your autograph?
Hell no!
Or is my desire for your acknowledgement of
Rat poetry as a puzzle
The real reason for my
Zeal?

--Tracinator (original---2009)

I just revised this, and it is better, but still imperfect. Ah well, such is life!

Hairless Rats Are Super Cool

"Duh"

Hairless rats are super cool.
What is wrong with the rest of the world?

---Tracinator (original---2010)

Maybe not the best poem in the world, but heartfelt. I am stunned by the lack of support for my idea to adopt some hairless rats. I let the idea slip to the old ball and chain, and let me tell you, it is not a pretty picture here. I believe the last words uttered by DH were "You'll probably do what you want anyway." Damn right!

That Old Rat Magic Has Me in Its Spell

A poem sent by a friend, concerned by my silence regarding rats:

"Monuments"

So, does RatPoetry stand now,
A silent tribute, a monument
To Niccolo's temporary brilliance?
Telling of the glories, both, which were
His life and death?
Or will you begin, in
Time honored fashion to move on,
To write of rodents new,
Of squirrels?

Nicodemus (2010---original)

I must admit that I have been less than enthusiastic about rats lately. The cat-induced carnage had ended, and I shamefully acknowledge that my grief for poor Niccolo and his brethren (and "sistren") had faded. I admittedly have a short attention span also... Where was I? Oh yeah... A colleague of mine has to give up her two hairless rats, and after I meet them next week (the rats, that is), I may get to adopt these lovely beings! Do not worry, gentle reader--- I shall keep them safe from the cats! If all goes well (and part of this means that my rat-hating husband must never discover my intention to adopt said rats), there will be much fodder for new and exciting non-hairy, yet deliciously ratty poetry!
---Tracinator

I am jumping back into rat poetry with otters.

Yes, I know otters are not rodents, but I dearly love them, and they seem "sorta rat-like." Anyway, they make me happy, and I have been a bit down, so to hell with the rats for now.

"Otter"
Otter. You potter
in the water.
Forage happily for cod or
other fodder
to feed our souls as god or
someone/something oughter.
Thank you, dear otter.

---Tracinator (original)

I wrote, if I may modestly mention, a brilliant report on otters in fourth grade. It included a museum-worthy drawing of the exalted otter. So thank you, otter, for that A from Ms. I forget-her-name.