Savage Animal: In Memorium

October 9, 2008

A few days ago, a beloved member of my family passed, even after undergoing two successful operations for cancer. Old age is something you can outsmart but not outrun.

Savage Animal, the de facto mascot for my house and treasured furry companion has joined the squeaking choir invisible.

Yes, my pet rat died. Yes, her name was Savage Animal. Say it with me:

Savage. Animal.

In actuality, she was only partially my rat- I helped pay a sizable chunk of her medical expenses and made sure she was fed and entertained when the house matriarch was out on *business.

*Frisbee tournaments.

When the topic of Savage’s wake came up, said matriarch, my bfff, accurately stated that Savage was a glue that held a lot of the wonderfulness in this house together.

Those of you who have not had the pleasure of a pet rat, sucks to you. They are as smart as cats (no lie, look it up), more affectionate and are great stress relievers.

They are not, as I may or may not have mentioned, good accessories for games of pool, but are happy to ride shoulders during any and all activity.

Why a wake, you ask? Because she was our mascot, the blind little butterball of fuzz at the bottom of all of our souls.

And yes, enough people express concern over the situation that it is indeed warranted.

Having the trust of any animal makes the experience of being said animal’s human. I recall my folks’ dogs sleeping on my chest when they were puppies, and no matter how lousy a time I may have been having at that point in my life, the same magic transpired when Savage nuzzled into my lap for some sleep.

The past few nights I have come home, I have had to catch myself from calling out and ambling over to her cage to feed her a carrot or scratch her behind the ears.

Though our house maintains a steady regimen of neighbors bleeding over into common area, cooking, pool and porch sitting, the atmosphere is nevertheless subdued by the loss of the curious white rodent who was everpresent, even if she was only poking her nose out from her cage, trying to sniff for someone to pick her up and join in the fun noises.

The cage has been given away, there is a bare spot in the main common room.

Services are TBA and closed to the unwashed masses.


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