morally_diseased up there and I went to college together, and rats were a favored pet in our circle of friends...but I don't think I ever want one for myself. I will say that lab rats are very different from feral rats, and that rat + cage = good.
LAY YOUR MICE STORIES UPON ME.
Mouse vignette the first: When I first moved to Philly, I lived in the office of the organization I worked for. It was a free room, and I only made $400 a month so this was a Good Thing™. Until I woke up with a mouse standing on my chest. I knew then that it was time for me to move out.
Mouse vignette the second: My next apartment was nearby, and the landlords didn't give two and a half shits about it. It wasn't a hovel, but it wasn't very nice, either. Still, the price was right and I was happy. (Even though I kept all of my food and most of my clothes in the fridge.) One day, I came home from my shift at Ben & Jerry's, dropped my work uniform on the floor, and crawled into bed, exhausted. I'd been on my feet for 10 hours, serving ice cream and making cakes for the 27 birthdays we had that week. The next morning when I got up and found my uniform to wash it, I found that the mice had chewed holes in the shirt where I'd had ice cream splattered across it. They'd only eaten the ice cream bits, and they were pretty precise. I got a new work shirt, and I started keeping it in the fridge. That pissed me off a lot.
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Date: 2010-11-11 05:07 am (UTC)LAY YOUR MICE STORIES UPON ME.
Mouse vignette the first: When I first moved to Philly, I lived in the office of the organization I worked for. It was a free room, and I only made $400 a month so this was a Good Thing™. Until I woke up with a mouse standing on my chest. I knew then that it was time for me to move out.
Mouse vignette the second: My next apartment was nearby, and the landlords didn't give two and a half shits about it. It wasn't a hovel, but it wasn't very nice, either. Still, the price was right and I was happy. (Even though I kept all of my food and most of my clothes in the fridge.) One day, I came home from my shift at Ben & Jerry's, dropped my work uniform on the floor, and crawled into bed, exhausted. I'd been on my feet for 10 hours, serving ice cream and making cakes for the 27 birthdays we had that week. The next morning when I got up and found my uniform to wash it, I found that the mice had chewed holes in the shirt where I'd had ice cream splattered across it. They'd only eaten the ice cream bits, and they were pretty precise. I got a new work shirt, and I started keeping it in the fridge. That pissed me off a lot.