Rats Don't Like To Be Dirty...

Okay, so the thing about furbabies is that they don't allow you to wallow in your misery for any longer than they can possibly help.

Mr. Sprinkles, Dobby and Golem were hanging out with me on the couch last night. We were having a marvelous time, they were getting attention, I had my attention diverted. And luckily the fog in my brain is dissipating a bit. (Remember to take your pills next time, nitwit!!) Anyway, Dobby and Sprinkles moved to the crook of my arm and were chilling there and I was giving Golem my undivided attention. Suddenly, Sprinkles, who is the most vocal rat I've ever had suddenly stopped chittering happily and made what I can only describe as the ratty ick sound. I look down and Dobby has poohed on my arm. Now, anyone who has ever had rats or had much experience with them knows that this happens and that it really isn't that big of a deal. However, Sprinkles, like every other rat I've ever known, objects to other rats pellets. And he had accidentally squished a pellet between his paw and my arm. Now, hard little pellets that are easy to clean up quickly lose the ick factor, but squished pellets are different. Anyway, Sprinkles was totally grossed out by the rat pooh on his little paw, so he looked at it, then reached out and wiped all the pooh on my arm...little bugger.....

Anyway, so after much icking and laughing, I put the little buggers back in their cage and discovered that I was feeling quite a bit happier.

So, while I don't know that rat pooh is the next big thing in antidepressants, little ratty ick faces go along way towards dispelling one's gloom....