“What kind of twat would have a pet rat?
What’s wrong with keeping a dog or a cat?
Rats are horrific, their tails are creepy,
they live in sewers, ugh, they are filthy.
It makes my skin crawl, to see him right there,
look at his whiskers and teeth, and his hair!
How can you keep one? Have you gone mad?
I’ve heard of pet snakes, I thought that was bad.”
Right. Now you’ve finished, perhaps I can speak.
I stood by and listened to you for a week.
Rats are affectionate, funny and sweet,
they make me laugh, running over my feet.
I think it’s so tragic, you have a closed mind,
give them a chance, please don’t be unkind.
I know you’re afraid but there’s nothing to fear,
they are so lovely, you must let them near.
I had a friend who felt the same way,
he hated the sight of them on the first day.
It took a while, but now he’s a fan,
My little rats have made him a man.
You don’t believe me, you still have that fear,
with tiny steps, that will disappear.
As you watch them live their lives every day,
you’ll never believe you could love them this way.
You don’t realise what you’re missing out on,
After a while you’ll be dying to get one.
It’s just a phobia, I understand,
let this one come out, and sit on your hand.
He’s more scared of you, but he’ll never bite,
give yourself the chance to get over your fright.
They’re very clean, and they groom each other
I’m proud to admit that I’m a rat lover.
They sit on my shoulder, and I kiss their cheek.
You’d never believe that a rat is so meek.
When I have food, they run up to the cage,
they cling to the bars, they can’t wait, at this stage.
Whiskers are twitching, noses are sniffing,
their eyes are glowing, as they are waiting.
Long fat bellies revealed as they stand,
taking the food right out of my hand.
Protecting their treats, like it’s their last day,
by snatching and grabbing, and turning away.
They know my voice whenever I speak,
It’s music to my ears, when I hear them squeak.
They’re only big mouses, no need to get frantic,
hysterically funny, watch every antic.
See how they’re using their tails to swing,
climbing down bars is a treacherous thing.
Rotating them round in the air to find grip,
their tails are like extra feet, if they slip.
Look at them scampering, paws in the air,
warm faces nuzzle your fingers right there.
They show their intelligence every day,
each one is different, in their own way.
Ziggy is placid, and gets pushed about
Badger is next in line for his shout.
Scholar is bigger, so he wins the day,
that’s how the rules work, it easy this way.
Boxing like men, inside a ring,
they never see you, or notice a thing.
They’re too absorbed in their battle of wits,
as they roll over each other in fits.
Head to head, they both want their own way,
they battle for dominance every day.
Their decision is questioned by one smaller rat,
he isn’t happy, he won’t accept that.
He sneaks up behind him, and gives him a shove,
as he spins around, there’s no sign of their love.
He takes the challenge, and pounces upon him
there’s lots of noise, as they are disputing.
‘Are you still the boss?’ That’s what he’s checking,
now you can watch as he gets a decking.
‘I am the master’. To prove it, he bites.
This is typical of their fights.
Pinned on his back, the other leans over
makes himself bigger, broadens his shoulder.
They freeze and go rigid, they’re sensing the mood,
reading intentions, one will get screwed.
There’s only one winner, as they fight for hours,
once it’s established, they give up their powers.
Their bit of frisking made them feel alive,
they’d have to be strong, or who would survive?
When it’s all over, they’re quiet as a mouse,
behaving like there was no fight in their house.
Never a grudge so important to keep,
they snuggle together as they sleep.
l sang their praises, remember my song,
keeping a pet rat can never be wrong.
