<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985</id><updated>2009-01-01T12:56:33.665-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Rat's World</title><subtitle type='html'>The ins and outs of a rat's life in a cushy home.</subtitle><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/blog.html'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.jorats.com/atom.xml'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-4631056550453107855</id><published>2009-01-01T10:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T10:45:21.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_BLN_0hCoN74/SVzlDhb3vvI/AAAAAAAAAKo/jVx_2CsQ17I/s1600-h/Anna%20blog%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="230" alt="Anna blog" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_BLN_0hCoN74/SVzlERlvZKI/AAAAAAAAAKs/4n9li9iXo_E/Anna%20blog_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="252" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I want to wish all my peeps a safe and healthy new year. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But I know that there are a lot of us out there, lonely, scared and in need of a good home. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;There are pet stores and breeders that continue to make more and more rats even though there are no real homes available to us. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I wish people would understand that we are not toys, we breathe, we sleep, we eat and we hurt. We need love and care. We need to feel you, be with you and we also need vet care. There are so many great rescues out there like Little Mischief Rescue in BC, HVR Rescue in Michigan, CCR Rescue in Nebraska and so many more that do all their best but they need help. They are not a permanent home. They are&amp;#160; a bridge to a forever home.&amp;#160; But more and more, rats are staying too long in rescues waiting for that perfect family, mom or dad to come get them, to love them, to play with them. We live such short lives, we need it filled to the max, bursting with fun, cuddles, licks and scritches. We love you so much, please open your hearts and homes to us. Please rescue one of us. I shudder to think where I would have ended up if my mom would not have been adopted by Mamarat (Jeannine Cote). She took in this scared little rat, my mom and her 10 babies. When it was time, me and my brother and sisters went to live in a wonderful home. But I just can't forget about the others, the ones out there... the ones being made, the ones being thrown outside, the ones being fed to other animals, the ones in crowded, dirty little tanks in stores. If people would stop buying from pet stores and breeders, they will no longer make money off of us. It's all supply and demand. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Until there are none... rescue one. &lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/4631056550453107855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=4631056550453107855' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/4631056550453107855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/4631056550453107855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-8275489449907029983</id><published>2008-12-10T09:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T09:59:57.054-05:00</updated><title type='text'>12 Days of Christmas for me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.jorats.com/uploaded_images/Xmas-Anna-786656.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://www.jorats.com/uploaded_images/Xmas-Anna-786651.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;On the 1st day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;a hammock made just for me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On the 2nd day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;2 banana chips and a hammock made just for me.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On the 3rd day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;3 cheerios, 2 banana chips and a hammock made just for me.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On the 4th day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;4 Kleenex boxes, 3 cheerios, 2 banana chips and a hammock made just for me.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On the 5th day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;5 frozen peas!!!!!!!  4 Kleenex boxes, 3 cheerios, 2 banana chips and a  hammock made just for me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On the 6th day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;6 feathers tickling, 5 frozen peas, 4 Kleenex boxes, 3 cheerios, 2 banana  chips and a hammock made just for me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On the 7th day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;a little bit of spaghetti, 6 feathers tickling, 5 frozen peas, 4 Kleenex  boxes, 3 cheerios, 2 banana chips and a hammock made just for me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On the 8th day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;8 papers for shredding, a little bit of spaghetti, 6 feathers tickling, 5  frozen peas, 4 Kleenex boxes, 3 cheerios, 2 banana chips and a hammock made just  for me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On the 9th day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;9 strings of yarn, 8 papers for shredding, a little bit of spaghetti, 6  feathers tickling, 5 frozen peas, 4 Kleenex boxes, 3 cheerios, 2 banana chips  and a hammock made just for me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On the 10th day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;10 fingers scritching, 9 strings of yarn, 8 papers for shredding, a little  bit of spaghetti, 6 feathers tickling, 5 frozen peas, 4 Kleenex boxes, 3  cheerios, 2 banana chips and a hammock made just for me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On the 11th day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;11 belly kisses, 10 fingers scritching, 9 strings of yarn, 8 papers for  shredding, a little bit of spaghetti, 6 feathers tickling, 5 frozen peas, 4  Kleenex boxes, 3 cheerios, 2 banana chips and a hammock made just for me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On the 12th day of Christmas my mommy gave to me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;12 buddies bruxxing, 11 belly kisses, 10 fingers scritching, 9 strings of  yarn, 8 papers for shredding, a little bit of spaghetti, 6 feathers tickling, 5  frozen peas, 4 Kleenex boxes, 3 cheerios, 2 banana chips and a hammock made just  for me. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Thank you... thank you very much. :)&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/8275489449907029983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=8275489449907029983' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/8275489449907029983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/8275489449907029983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/12/12-days-of-christmas-for-me_2685.html' title='12 Days of Christmas for me!'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-9179011744973295566</id><published>2008-11-14T13:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T13:09:40.334-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Comfy Cozy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The colder weather has arrived, I know, cause I can feel it. Sometimes we have that warm air blowing up but we still get the chills once in a while. There are a few things you can do to keep warm, I've tried all of them but I do have a favourite. First, you can run, jump, popcorn all over the place. But eventually you do get tired. Then you can try and find a spot just for you. A good place I like is under the home liner. Yep, just chew yourself a small little hole and sneak in there. The hole does become a problem though, it lets in some of the cold air. There is also the napkins option. If your Ma is like ours and gives you paper towels, go around the home collecting all of those and you can stuff it in your nest. But the best way... find a good spot like a hammock or one of those small hamster balls, the ones big enough for two rats. Then go and find yourself a buddy, preferably a fatty. You know you've got some that are chunkier than others. The fatties are the best for keeping warm. How do you get the fatty in your nest, that's easy, first go find all the food in the ca&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_BLN_0hCoN74/SR2-4mjTaFI/AAAAAAAAAKI/TgMdZdVsK6c/s1600-h/Anna%20Banana_edited-1%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="122" alt="Anna Banana_edited-1" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_BLN_0hCoN74/SR2-46GhbNI/AAAAAAAAAKM/-2DHele4CEU/Anna%20Banana_edited-1_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="125" align="right" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ge and put it in your nest. Show your fatty where your stash is and he'll soon be climbing in and regaling in the feast. As long as you can keep your nest full, you'll have that warm fatty to keep you comfy cozy all winter long. Am I smart or what? :)&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/9179011744973295566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=9179011744973295566' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/9179011744973295566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/9179011744973295566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/11/comfy-cozy.html' title='Comfy Cozy'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-1556166325053847476</id><published>2008-09-21T19:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T19:50:36.314-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SNbdySKGxLI/AAAAAAAAAHo/bbJovcWEutM/s1600-h/anna%5B8%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="163" alt="anna" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SNbdyoy0_jI/AAAAAAAAAHs/YxyWLdA0hys/anna_thumb%5B6%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="229" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There are so many things that can make us go loopy and bounce with joy. I've recently found one such thing. My Ma calls it a book. She was reading something when we were all out playing out of our cage. I jumped on Ma and of course I tried to taste this book. It doesn't taste very good but do you know what? It sure feels good chewing away at the pages. They are so thin and fits easily between my teeth. It makes this wonderful crackling sound when I bite down on it. It made these wonderful little chew holes too. Ma wasn't too happy and would shoe me away each time I tried to play with my book. It's like bubble wrap for hoomins. :)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So what I did, I would jump off of Ma and run fast around her and jump back up on the other side of her. She would laugh and I would take a bite off the book, then jump down and run real fast again on the other side of Ma, jump on and another bite. Ma was laughing so much, she didn't stop my biting the book. :)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Oh, another super fun thing... Ma gave us this soft plastic ball and filled it with the most delicious little rat bite sized nummies. She called it multigrain Cheerios. It was great fun! We all ran after it and some of the cheerios fell out and we would all race for it. Ma took a video &lt;a href="http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=klL2LwIpQvw"&gt;The Great Cheerio Ball&lt;/a&gt; . But Ma got a little mad when she saw what we actually did to that ball. *giggle* I guess it's not like the book. ;) &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SNbdy6YywVI/AAAAAAAAAHw/ra0wBZmylFo/s1600-h/deadball2%5B6%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="81" alt="deadball2" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SNbdywuK1tI/AAAAAAAAAH0/KxEH9nC9Dso/deadball2_thumb%5B4%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="80" align="right" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/1556166325053847476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=1556166325053847476' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/1556166325053847476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/1556166325053847476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/09/fun-stuff.html' title='Fun Stuff'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-7732565985550828433</id><published>2008-08-23T19:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T19:03:52.395-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So Many Buddies...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;#160; W&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SLCXUea7TUI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/XHpmrXLNcDI/s1600-h/Anna%5B9%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="120" alt="Anna" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SLCXUTCBEYI/AAAAAAAAAHU/2l15z65EAR8/Anna_thumb%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="126" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hen I first moved out of my first mommy's place, I was a little worried. I had so many sisters, brothers and cousins, I thought I would be so lonely. But there was already a whole bunch of new buddies waiting for us. Not to mention, that my 1 brother, 2 sisters and 4 cousins came with me.&amp;#160; We met Prue, a mommy herself, she took care of us and her daughters became our sisters. And then, we met more buddies. 3 rambunctious boys, Ma calls them the Romeos, Sebbie the boss man and Captain the shy loner. I know we must get on some of the older rats' nerves with all our playing, jumping and screaming but sometimes they join in and play with us too. We live in a huge home now, it's a double up FNs, it opens up right onto the floor, I think that's so cool cause then we can escape so easily when Ma opens up the doors to clean up. Our play area is just so cool, I always want to go play. Since Ma put us all together, we've been getting over 2 hours of play time a day. How cool is that!! But then, we so deserve it, right? Cause I'm a princess. :)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SLCXVMvvasI/AAAAAAAAAHY/2my9xmm16VU/s1600-h/Cage_edited-1%5B6%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="140" alt="Cage_edited-1" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SLCXVWFOQII/AAAAAAAAAHc/NgCacCFQrro/Cage_edited-1_thumb%5B4%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="193" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SLCXVpzTPuI/AAAAAAAAAHg/3CnxUF0rfPY/s1600-h/Rattie%20playland_edited-1%5B6%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="147" alt="Rattie playland_edited-1" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SLCXVwK4lJI/AAAAAAAAAHk/9Zfwx5wpDLc/Rattie%20playland_edited-1_thumb%5B4%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="203" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/7732565985550828433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=7732565985550828433' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/7732565985550828433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/7732565985550828433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/08/so-many-buddies.html' title='So Many Buddies...'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-6938397359250336714</id><published>2008-08-03T22:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T22:36:36.049-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgiveness</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Ever wonder why moms and dads are quick to forgive? It's actually a work of art. I've seen some of the worst bites and yet the hoomins always end up forgiving. This is a sweet deal I think. Of course we can't help ourselves, sometimes we get scared, stressed, surprised or we jump on a potential treat that for some cruel reason wasn't actually there. Along with that forgiveness though, can come a price. I've seen some of the boys lose part of their boyhood after a bite. heehee Well of course they probably deserve&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SJZrLad-FfI/AAAAAAAAAHI/hZxaOjSI3vU/s1600-h/Anna%20Banana2%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="189" alt="Anna Banana2" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SJZrM8ASOtI/AAAAAAAAAHM/hprRCOqe30w/Anna%20Banana2_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="275" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; it, they certainly do become nicer after it all. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But in the end, I so enjoy our hoomins, they are so easy to please, all you have to do is run and hop, run and hop, they call it popcorning. Whatever they want to call it, it sure makes them laugh, so I think we'll continue to do that, especially if it means they will forgive our inquisitiveness, especially when checking out toes, ear lobes and sometimes lips. We do know when we have gone too far cause the hoomins let out this blood curdling shriek. Makes me giggle each time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So far, I've been good... I don't nip, bite or even rest my teeth on any part of my Ma. But I sure have been eyeing those toes of hers, I'm just waiting for the sock things to come off. *evil grin* &lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/6938397359250336714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=6938397359250336714' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/6938397359250336714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/6938397359250336714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/08/forgiveness.html' title='Forgiveness'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-8022788678227641753</id><published>2008-07-20T12:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T12:12:45.292-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Downstairs</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;My litter mates and I live with some older girls. I don't know who they think they are but they try to make us live in the bottom part of the cage. I said, NO WAY! Ok so I shouldn't be so mean and say all of them do it, mostly Minou, Sara and Julia. Those three girls are a little older than us and they think they are so cool and all that. But me and my posse, we went upstairs and took over the place. heehee&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;My posse would be my sisters Sheela and Blue, my brother Jack, half brothers Jet and Jude, half sisters Bunny and Roxanne. No wonder they didn't stand a chance. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SINj-2iINNI/AAAAAAAAAHA/iF66qeQbE84/s1600-h/Anna%20Banana_edited-1%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="189" alt="Anna Banana_edited-1" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SINj_KoTpQI/AAAAAAAAAHE/rpp7IoGw1mk/Anna%20Banana_edited-1_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="275" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; if that wouldn't have worked, I would have Ma help me out. She's so easy to manipulate, all I have to do is scream. haha! It works every time. I go upstairs... Minou will get all huffy on me, she will try to push me down the stairs so what I do is stand very still in an odd way like have a arm up in the air and a leg, then start squealing real loud. Ma comes running and gets all mad at Minou, pulls her out of the cage gives her a good talking too. You should see Minou's face. She's all like worried and trying to tell Ma she didn't even do anything. Ha! So now when Minou is being mean with me, she runs and hides if I scream.     &lt;br /&gt;I'm just having too much fun!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Oh and I'd like to thank my fans out there who repeated after me in the last post. So now... you have to say: you are the best Anna Banana! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I love my fans!&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/8022788678227641753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=8022788678227641753' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/8022788678227641753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/8022788678227641753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/07/downstairs.html' title='Downstairs'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-2722784278842695205</id><published>2008-07-06T19:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T19:20:23.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A curtesy will do...</title><content type='html'>My Ma asked me to start publishing my thoughts even though there's nothing in it for me, unless of course it will g&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.jorats.com/uploaded_images/Anna-Banana-princess1-796094.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://www.jorats.com/uploaded_images/Anna-Banana-princess1-796083.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ive me new admirers. I'm a princess you know and everything must go according to my specs. So repeat after me... there is nothing sweeter than me. I'm all that you need, you want to give me all your love. Right. Now that's done, I'm off for my beauty sleep. Well, you can't blame me to have little words, I'm only 2 months old you know. Sheesh... you love me right? ;)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/2722784278842695205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=2722784278842695205' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/2722784278842695205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/2722784278842695205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/07/curtesy-will-do.html' title='A curtesy will do...'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-1443556208198072249</id><published>2008-06-24T12:57:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T12:57:12.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Treat July 16 07 -- June 23rd 08</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Treat left me yesterday... he really tried but in the end, his body couldn't take it anymore. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I've had Treat and his brothers since they were 4 weeks old. They were the sweetest bunch. At 6.5 weeks old, there was a freak happening to Sheep, while playing, his jugular was nicked and he bled to death. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So it was Boo and Treat from then on. Treat was a joker, a player... the fun guy at the party. Most rats loved him, he wanted to be everyone's buddy. He welcome the new rats readily, as long as they were in for a good game of tag. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Early June, Boo became sick, a mysterious illness has plagued the jorats home. Boo died within 24 hours. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Two weeks later, it was Treat. He's gone. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I will miss my Treat, my fuzzy little guy with the twinkle in his eye. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Have fun Treat... the world is now yours. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SGEnY9aeELI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/lB0ZHjdXzGI/s1600-h/cube5%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="315" alt="cube5" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SGEnZpLyU4I/AAAAAAAAAGU/LXusuBCF3pY/cube5_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="414" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/1443556208198072249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=1443556208198072249' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/1443556208198072249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/1443556208198072249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/06/treat-july-16-07-june-23rd-08.html' title='Treat July 16 07 -- June 23rd 08'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-6812291008364993901</id><published>2008-06-23T14:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T14:03:41.462-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More illness...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This is Ma now... Treat is very sick. On Saturday, I found my darling boy Radar gone. He had been bleeding, he went quick. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SF_ld3dl35I/AAAAAAAAAGA/mT--9azTMME/s1600-h/Radar%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="244" alt="Radar" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SF_leQ00QBI/AAAAAAAAAGE/s7F8_nONoO8/Radar_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="234" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SF_ld3dl35I/AAAAAAAAAGA/mT--9azTMME/s1600-h/Radar%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SF_ld3dl35I/AAAAAAAAAGA/mT--9azTMME/s1600-h/Radar%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Then Sunday morning, poor Treat started to bleed. He started to get worse and worse, he bled and awful lot. I was sure he wouldn't make it through the night. He's hardly eating. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;He was brought to the vet this morning. The prognosis is guarded. She offered to have him put to sleep right there. I look at my Treat, decided that we both are going to fight for this. I'm not ready to let him go to his brothers... He's still mine right now. And I need him so much. So she pumped him full of fluids and gave him a shot of dex. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Fight my little Treat... fight like mad Baby.&amp;#160; &lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SF_le7ih3pI/AAAAAAAAAGI/U9c9OSZPrK8/s1600-h/Treatster%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="210" alt="Treatster" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SF_lfFEK8vI/AAAAAAAAAGM/2GQA7oFWfEU/Treatster_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/6812291008364993901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=6812291008364993901' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/6812291008364993901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/6812291008364993901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/06/more-illness.html' title='More illness...'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-8352650125743221761</id><published>2008-06-15T12:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T12:58:33.624-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Illness...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;There's been something going around us and it's made Ma very worried. We are worried too. My best buddy, my cuddle partner, my brother has died from it. I will miss my Boo bro. We heard that an old rat has died too. Her name was Mielle. She was 38 months old. I sure hope I can live that old. My Boo won't, that much I know. But the vet told my Ma that she thinks it was a virus and that is has done it's course because nobody else is getting sick now. &lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SFVKMOCbx8I/AAAAAAAAAFw/S5d3ds5xCjU/s1600-h/Boo2_edited-1%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="228" alt="Boo2_edited-1" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SFVKM86dwTI/AAAAAAAAAF0/wKUT5vRRv4o/Boo2_edited-1_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" align="right" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This is definitely a lesson to learn. All rats carry their own mixed bags of germs, bacteria and other undesirables. So it's really common sense to quarantine your rats. Sure hematuria is not a common symptoms of a contagious infection, but if that rescue April would have been quarantined, we may never have gotten sick. So we just never know... &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Don't take a chance, keep us healthy, make sure all new rats are quarantined and healthy before they settle into the colony. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Boo is missed by all of us. He was a great rat, he was friends with everyone. Not even Nessie would bully him cause he was just so lovable. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Be free Boo and Mielle, we will meet again. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SFVKNg5IPqI/AAAAAAAAAF4/Y7ZYJA1d7SM/s1600-h/Mielle_edited-1%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="305" alt="Mielle_edited-1" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SFVKONo0UiI/AAAAAAAAAF8/BvJxbY0q5Nc/Mielle_edited-1_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="321" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/8352650125743221761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=8352650125743221761' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/8352650125743221761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/8352650125743221761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/06/illness.html' title='Illness...'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-5319615548988349985</id><published>2008-06-03T09:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T09:09:48.049-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Puppet Master</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Want to have some fun with your human? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Dive into the shirt just when they are about the stand up. Then run to the top, near the shoulder and act all sweet so they will keep you there. They really can't resist a sweet face, seal the deal with some kisses too. Oh and they really like it if you gently paw at their face to give them more licks. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Ok once you've got them in your clutches, this is when the fun begins. Run down to the hips. Amazingly, the human instantly swings out her hip. Then, run to the other hip and that one will swing out. Run up the leg and the leg comes shooting up. Run back up on her back and she bends forward. While you are giggling and laughing, ignore her calls and pleas. If she tries to grab you, run up the arm and you'll see it go straight out in the air. run to the other arm now before it reaches over to grab you. And to make your human stand very very still, jump up on the head. Oh god, I never had this much fun. The view is great from up there. And just when you think the human will grab you, if you start grooming that hair and making it all comfortable the human will actually stop and enjoy the feeling of rat hat. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Yes... we are the puppet masters!! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SEVClal_0jI/AAAAAAAAAFo/PekTepEZclc/s1600-h/Treat%20puppetmaster%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="283" alt="Treat puppetmaster" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SEVCm6l_0kI/AAAAAAAAAFs/WI0lf1xpMEI/Treat%20puppetmaster_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="327" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/5319615548988349985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=5319615548988349985' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/5319615548988349985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/5319615548988349985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/06/puppet-master.html' title='The Puppet Master'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-5992855103556041085</id><published>2008-05-20T11:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T11:38:23.538-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cage Changes</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Now who ever said that bigger is better? Oh ya, Ma... you did! But she went ahead and shorten our cage. We used to have a triple FN, you know, 3 levels high but she brought it down to 2 levels. Of course that is still plenty of space for us but now we've lost the very top. Ok, sure, so now since the change, many of the rats have been living in the bottom part. I don't really know why but they seem to prefer the bottom now. I, myself like both parts. They each have their comfort zone. But one good thing, since many of the rats have decided to settle in the bottom part, there's much more space at the top. Sometimes though, I sneak downstairs to go and cuddle up with Sophie and Radar. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So what's the real reason for a cage change? Ma said it was high time that Prue and her girls got their one level FN too. Oh I'm sure Prue and the girls were thrilled to get our top level. I'm sure they are enjoying their massive floor space, the extra toys in the care... At first when I found out that the girls were going to get it, I thought: SWEET!!! cause I know a few of those girls can go through the bars, I knew we'd be getting some night time visits. heehee but Ma pulled a fast one on us. She put up bars on the other FN. So now Noodle can't get through and come play with us. Which I guess should make Sophie and Nessie quite happy cause those two girls are just not happy with Prue and the girls. In fact, when it's out time, Sophie saunters over to enemy camp and tries to claim it back as hers. Silly Sophie. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Oh btw... I heard a rumour, talk of new baby rats. I knew Ma couldn't resist more of us. *wink*&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SDLwagfFdrI/AAAAAAAAAFY/ds7Dzfn6DK8/s1600-h/cages%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="309" alt="cages" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SDLwbgfFdsI/AAAAAAAAAFg/r5fOGdgZUpg/cages_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="392" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/5992855103556041085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=5992855103556041085' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/5992855103556041085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/5992855103556041085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/05/cage-changes.html' title='Cage Changes'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-7969435621016197778</id><published>2008-05-16T23:07:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T23:07:06.653-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Isabelle</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;There has been much sadness here in our cage. On Thursday, May 15th, we found our Isabelle gone. She was like our dorm mother. She made sure we stayed in line, didn't fight with each other and respected the others. Isabelle came to us with Radar. She was protective of him but she really kept to herself unless she had to come and discipline some of us. She really was a pretty girl, a few days shy of being 24 months old. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I don't understand why she had to leave us. We really do miss her. It's been very quiet around here since it happened and Ma won't stop crying. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We will miss you always Isabelle... &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SC5L2AfFdpI/AAAAAAAAAFI/4e-D_xYmbAY/s1600-h/Isalog2_edited-1%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="278" alt="Isalog2_edited-1" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SC5L2gfFdqI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/FGnjaZ1JqBg/Isalog2_edited-1_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="406" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/7969435621016197778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=7969435621016197778' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/7969435621016197778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/7969435621016197778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/05/goodbye-isabelle.html' title='Goodbye Isabelle'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-5255667278976815243</id><published>2008-05-09T21:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T21:11:08.387-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gramps got spunk!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Besides us in the house, Ma also has what we call the old folks home. There are at least 3 old dudes there, they are like ancient, ...100 years old. Ok, so I'm exaggerating, they are 37 months old, these guys have been around before the Harlan blocks. I know, shocking! I can't imagine not having my Harlan blocks. So anyway these old guys get their out time too, they waddle about, some sliding across the floor using only their upper body strength. We all get to the bottom of our FN and we laugh at them. I know it's not nice but what do you expect, we are rats. Usually Gramps, also known as Pascal will come crawling right up to us. He just sits there and snickers at us. We all puff up and dare him to come close enough for us to touch him. He doesn't though, he stays a safe distance and he just sits there putting all his scent around our cage like as if he is all that. Of course that gets a few of us really riled up, his scent around our cage, he's got nerve, he's got ba... um, attitude. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So a few days ago, same thing was going on, we were heckling, laughing and egging him on, finally most of us left cause he was just sitting there like a log, appearing to have dozed off. When all of a sudden, the old man backs up his hind end, gets in between our bars almost right on our fleece and he lets out the biggest wizz I've ever seen. We were in shock! We were frozen in place and by the time we snapped out of it and started to run back downstairs to pull his hair right out of his butt, he had sauntered back to safe distance with that silly proud grin on his face. Man, I'll tell ya, I hope I've got half his spunk when I'm his age with one foot in the grave.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SCT2Ktf3mEI/AAAAAAAAAE4/ZR4xe8tae6s/s1600-h/Pascal2small%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="292" alt="Pascal2small" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SCT2K9f3mFI/AAAAAAAAAFA/UjrAHqXJoQM/Pascal2small_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/5255667278976815243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=5255667278976815243' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/5255667278976815243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/5255667278976815243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/05/gramps-got-spunk.html' title='Gramps got spunk!'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-7930205530112675022</id><published>2008-04-27T19:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T19:06:35.747-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Responsibility</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Ma twisted my arm and is making me say this... But she has a point so you better listen with open eyes. ;)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;When you have intact boys and intact girls in the same home, with unsuitable cages, there's bound to be accidents. Which when you think about shouldn't be called an accident because it's completely preventable. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SBUG-Fi0kII/AAAAAAAAAEo/t5oKHFtm_BI/s1600-h/Treatblog%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="244" alt="Treatblog" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SBUG-1i0kJI/AAAAAAAAAEw/eaGgtYM8_Rg/Treatblog_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="152" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hold up y'all... I need to add, COME ON! boys love the girls, Ma! Please don't make me... I love girls why do you think we will do everything in our power to crawl out, chew out, take what ever escape route possible to reach those sweeties. Ok, yes, you have a point, we do produce a fairly large number of rats, but aren't 12 sweet baby rats just the cutest thing? What? ya, ok, so we can have even larger litters.... and ya, rattie babies grow up needing more space, needing more food, needing more time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Ok. You win. If everyone allowed rats to keep having mistakes, there would be a great number of unwanted rats out there. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It's a good thing this one little rescue was brought into The Rat Shack, she gave birth today... those babies are safe but that means countless others will have to be turned away. :(&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Please be responsible with your rats. They are not toys, they are not here for your pleasure, they are not your science project. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Love us as we love you. &lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/7930205530112675022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=7930205530112675022' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/7930205530112675022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/7930205530112675022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/04/responsibility.html' title='Responsibility'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-3416260565873802192</id><published>2008-04-16T13:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T13:39:25.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poop has hit the fan!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;But if you're a rat, that's not necessarily a bad thing cause um, we sometimes need to eat those. hahaha, ok, so not so funny for you, but sure hit my funny bone. Wait, do we have a funny bone?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;On with the poops... We met the sweet babies. Well, they are sweet to me but Nessie sure had a fit with them. She puffed up so big, you'd swear she spent quite some time in the dryer. She was going around looking for the babies but they were so fast, she couldn't catch up. She was yelling and cursing, we all had to get out of her way. Finally Ma grabbed her and flipped her over. She protested like a cat stuck in a tree, ok, bad metaphor but it works. But after she calmed down, she wouldn't leave Ma's shoulder. I guess she needed Ma to reassure her that all was well and the babies won't take over her life. We sure had a great laugh though, seeing her all banshee like. We continued teasing her in the cage for a while after. Good thing Nessie loves us. heehee&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;As for the babies. Wow, so much energy, so much fun. I tried to join in with them but they were a little scared of me. I'm like 10 times their size but I'm sure as time goes by, we will be great friends. Ma told me from now on we are having all our play times with these girls. SWEET!!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But not so much for Nessie... *giggle*&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SAY5y6-57tI/AAAAAAAAAEY/FcJgev7j9v4/s1600-h/JuliaTreat_edited-1%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="285" alt="JuliaTreat_edited-1" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/SAY5za-57uI/AAAAAAAAAEg/r03Yj16A444/JuliaTreat_edited-1_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="416" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/3416260565873802192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=3416260565873802192' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/3416260565873802192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/3416260565873802192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/04/poop-has-hit-fan.html' title='Poop has hit the fan!'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-4835916373744627549</id><published>2008-04-10T22:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T22:44:03.078-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Water Bowl</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;We often get together at the water bowl. We chat about the importance of life like which veggie we are getting tomorrow and if our hair looks good or if we need to visit the cage barber. Once in a while, one of the girls will ask if we think she looks fat. Ya, don't answer that one!! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We used to have two water bowls. One on the top floor and one on the second floor. But for some reason, Ma replaced the second one with a bottle. It's not the same at the water bowl but we like it. It's good for drinking. It never runs out either like our water bowl. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R_7QcEs5UiI/AAAAAAAAAEI/844vQqgB-uQ/s1600-h/inthewaterbowl_edited13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-top-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="266" alt="in the water bowl_edited-1" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R_7Qcks5UjI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/9SYPboVv6lc/inthewaterbowl_edited1_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="388" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Why does our water bowl run out? Ok, I'll rat it out... (hehe) Some of us like to swim and bathe in the water bowl. It gets dirty pretty darn quick. I love to dip my hands in the water bowl and drink the water, I also like to dip my head in the water bowl. It sure beats having to groom yourself with your tongue all the time. Do you know how much hair I have to clean? My tongue can only go so fast. But one quick dip, then use your arms to rub it all over and voila! All done. Yep, I skinny dip. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Now, we do have our practical jokesters... and let me tell you, I don't think it's funny. Just when I'm ready to go bathe in the water bowl, I see something floating in it. It's not our blocks, (sometimes it's yummy, soaked blocks) it's not our wood chews, it's not our ping pong balls or rubber ducky.... nope, it's a POOP!! Oh ya, I hear them laughing and rolling and giggling. It's not funny I tell you! I'll gladly take a bath with the blocks but I draw the line at poops. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Maaaa! time to change the water!!!&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/4835916373744627549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=4835916373744627549' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/4835916373744627549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/4835916373744627549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/04/water-bowl.html' title='The Water Bowl'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-7532407853915523863</id><published>2008-04-02T10:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T14:14:34.521-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I found them!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;By golly it's true! I found what was the cause of the sounds and smells, I found what was eating our food! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;A couple of days ago, Ma rolled this cage into our play area. The smells were even closer than before. I finally got the courage to climb the stand and finally the cage. I know... I shouldn't be doing any climbing without my harness for fall protection safety, but there was no time to lose. I was so close.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R_OUy3hrObI/AAAAAAAAAD4/c5iIfUWSpOI/Treat%20and%20the%20girls%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 0px none ;" alt="Treat and the girls" src="http://lh5.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R_OUznhrOcI/AAAAAAAAAEA/1gL6E55dX2Y/Treat%20and%20the%20girls_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" border="0" height="279" width="286" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Sebbie was right, GIRLS! Sweet, young, beautiful girls! I never knew they could smell so good. I so wanted to play with them, but the doors were shut. Ma said I had to be patient but soon enough we are going to play with them in our play yard together. Oh, I can't wait. They look like they can be a lot of fun. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Nessie found them too. She started freaking out and running all around the place yelling at the top of her lungs: 6!!! There are freaking 6 of them, ARG!!!! Poor Nessie. &lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/7532407853915523863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=7532407853915523863' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/7532407853915523863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/7532407853915523863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/04/i-found-them.html' title='I found them!'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-7290167807952854839</id><published>2008-03-28T20:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T20:56:44.616-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Every crib needs one! Hammocks.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This is a must!&amp;#160; All rats need to have their soft bed, their favourite spot, the most cuddly and most coveted nest in the cage: the hammock. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Now there are several types of hammocks. The normal flat comfy hammock&lt;a href="http://lh3.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R-2TynhrOZI/AAAAAAAAADo/-pp02s2conE/Jorge%20hammie%20closeup%5B4%5D.jpg?imgmax=800"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="209" alt="Jorge hammie closeup" src="http://lh5.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R-2TzHhrOaI/AAAAAAAAADw/xaG7Wl3nSIA/Jorge%20hammie%20closeup_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="305" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, it's good for one rat but will take several. Personally, I prefer my buddies in there with me. But I don't like when a few chew their blocks in the hammock, you get crumbs everywhere, have you ever tried sleeping with crumbs? Sure you get a small midnight snack when you happen to roll over, but really, you get it all over your hair. Then it's groom groom groom. You just can't get it all out off your back. Then you got a buddy constantly jumping you to try and eat the stuff out. It's really annoying.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; Then, there are specialty hammocks: cubes. Aww... now that's luxury. We can climb inside or lay on top. If you lie on top, well, it's like your typical hammock. But inside... it's magical! You can sleep, play, groom and even&amp;#160; stash your food in there. Oh, the most fun thing to do, go around your cage and gather up all the paper towels and drag them inside your cube. So much fun! Now there is one thing that irritates me to no end. Poops. Why oh why some of us have a need to poop in our wonderful cubes? It's impossible to clean those out. But I have a suspicion that Radar does this on purpose. He thinks no one else is gonna want to stay in there with his poops lying all over the place. What a sneaky slob! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;About stashing, now yes, it's a good place to hide your food but really, it's not hidden cause since we all love the cube, well, that means the food will get found and fast, so best to find another place. Trust me, I learned this the hard way. &lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/7290167807952854839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=7290167807952854839' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/7290167807952854839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/7290167807952854839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/03/every-crib-needs-one-hammocks.html' title='Every crib needs one! Hammocks.'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-3714174483503825754</id><published>2008-03-08T17:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T17:02:35.881-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Newness!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R9MM-VJZEDI/AAAAAAAAADY/z0eCghMNjZI/Small%20Treat%5B7%5D?imgmax=800"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="273" alt="Small Treat" src="http://lh4.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R9MM-1JZEEI/AAAAAAAAADg/swu4L_Dk7hI/Small%20Treat_thumb%5B5%5D?imgmax=800" width="390" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;There are new smells about. I can't quite figure it out and it's driving me mad. I can sense a change. Even Ma is busier these last few days. There has been talk of new rat smells but I just can't put a paw on it. Seb says he knows this smell, a young ratgirl smell. He said it's a smell he'll never forget and he gets that dreamy look in his eyes. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And it's not just smell either. I hear lots of new sounds, little eeps, little&amp;#160; squeaks, laughter and play. I hear lots of block nibbling. What could be eating our blocks way across the room? I wish I could see what is doing all this change. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Ma told me to be patient, that we all will meet the newcomers soon enough. She said something about them being too young yet. I'm not sure what she means. Nessie is quite worried and has been going around pulling her hair out yelling: it better not be more vermin! I for one would love to have new buddies. Since meeting Isa and Radar, it's been so much fun. I love to cuddle up to Radar. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Ma says that rescuing rats brings a lot of warmth to her heart, lots of love. I tried telling her that broccoli can do the same thing but she shrugged me off. Silly Ma!&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/3714174483503825754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=3714174483503825754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/3714174483503825754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/3714174483503825754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/03/newness.html' title='Newness!'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-5590664761516933919</id><published>2008-02-26T14:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T14:35:25.269-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Buddies</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;New buddies are always fun. Cause you can pick on them. But these two were not going to get bullied. :) Which was fine with me because I like the new buddies. They are older, quieter but they are fun, simply because buddies are always fun. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Radar and Isabelle have moved in with us. I knew it was going to happen because everyday we were meeting them for playtime. Isabelle wasn't too happy and wouldn't let anyone go near her, she's not like that anymore.&amp;#160; Radar would chill with us in the boot. The boot is our big toy with holes. We love the boot and so does Radar. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So after a week of us meeting, playing and resting with the new buddies, Ma gave us a bigger home. It's huge! We had two rooms &lt;a href="http://lh6.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R8Rp-gzv4VI/AAAAAAAAADI/RL9GTwa2_Gg/big%20cage_edited-1%5B4%5D?imgmax=800"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="350" alt="big cage_edited-1" src="http://lh4.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R8Rp_Azv4WI/AAAAAAAAADQ/77IMnPqLuK4/big%20cage_edited-1_thumb%5B2%5D?imgmax=800" width="240" align="right" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;before, now we have three and the coolest thing, it opens up on the main floor. It's got so many things too like two hanging runabout balls, lots of hammocks and cubes too. There is a place for all of us to either cuddle or to be alone. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Ma likes to keep our home clean, even though we try real hard to dirty it. I like bits of fleece and bits of wood chews strewn about. I think it looks fashionable that way. Not to mention paper towels, we have to have paper towels even if it's to drag it around to different sleeping spots but you have to be careful, cause if you don't keep a paw on your paper towel, some else is going to get it. ;)&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/5590664761516933919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=5590664761516933919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/5590664761516933919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/5590664761516933919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/02/new-buddies.html' title='New Buddies'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-4378075528258235485</id><published>2008-02-20T12:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T12:00:56.153-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Happy Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I have to say, life is good again. I'm even buddies with Davis. At first, it was hard, not with Davis but with Jorge. But then Jorge had a date with a scalpel and he became a real buddy. But Davis, woa, we had to get out of his way. He even tried to bite Ma, not once but three times! That didn't go over good. Ma was happy that he didn't bite down but still, I mean, you don't bite the hand that feeds you, or the hand that cuddles you, or the hand that feeds you, did I say that already? A hand, that's for licking cause they taste so salty, and those nails, what's the deal with the nails? I don't get why they need those? I try to pry them off each time but Ma won't let me finish the job.&amp;#160; Now where was I? Oh ya, Davis... it was his turn to meet the nutcracker and now, he's my buddy. He's so happy too, hops everywhere, he no longer walks or crawls, or runs, he just hops. I try and play with him, like you know, wrestling, and he just hops away. I go to talk to him and he hops away, sometimes he comes back ...but only to hop away again. Ya, it can get annoying. But when he's sleepy, I can crawl into the hammock and cuddle up to him. I love my new buddy Davis. :)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R7xcxQzv4TI/AAAAAAAAAC4/fspkcSI_qyA/Davissleepy_edited15?imgmax=800"&gt;&lt;img style="border-top-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="248" alt="Davis sleepy_edited-1" src="http://lh3.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R7xcxwzv4UI/AAAAAAAAADA/8erYrfMmwjA/Davissleepy_edited1_thumb3?imgmax=800" width="354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/4378075528258235485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=4378075528258235485' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/4378075528258235485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/4378075528258235485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/02/happy-life.html' title='The Happy Life'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-8448327222965753602</id><published>2008-02-14T07:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T07:55:13.318-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Wishing all the ratties and their moms and dads a happy rattie love day. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;When you think about it, I think this day was actually made for us ratties. I mean, who else can you cuddle, kiss and pet incessantly? Ok so ya, all furry pets but I'm talking rats in particular. We are love and it's all we ask back. That and yummy food. Ya, can't forget the food cause we need that to live. Yep yep yep, love my rat blocks, my broccoli, my kale, my blueberries. So see, lots of love, so Valentine's day is made for us. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Besides... I look utterly ridiculous in the getup. So I need to convince myself, it's all about me baby. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R7Q6Lgzv4RI/AAAAAAAAACo/AbZLQh8KL-E/MSTreat3?imgmax=800"&gt;&lt;img style="border-top-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="306" alt="MSTreat" src="http://lh4.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R7Q6MAzv4SI/AAAAAAAAACw/UU8R4ChlUZU/MSTreat_thumb1?imgmax=800" width="361" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;*grumble grumble* I better get a grape for this humiliation.&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/8448327222965753602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=8448327222965753602' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/8448327222965753602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/8448327222965753602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/02/happy-valentine-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&amp;#39;s Day!'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4891202329984489985.post-9211723329425614609</id><published>2008-02-08T13:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T13:55:12.982-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You lost what Captain?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The last of the dudes got caught. Was sent away to lose his jiggles. Captain was done today. He&amp;#8217;s not back with&lt;a href="http://lh4.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R6yljyQgxGI/AAAAAAAAACY/DsO7fk1wNEY/Captain%20neuter_edited-1%5B3%5D?imgmax=800"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="165" alt="Captain neuter_edited-1" src="http://lh5.google.com/Joanne.N.Bouchard/R6ylkCQgxHI/AAAAAAAAACg/qp1zuk4CIXc/Captain%20neuter_edited-1_thumb%5B1%5D?imgmax=800" width="244" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the colony yet, he&amp;#8217;s probably enjoying his soy milk. Why is it we only get soy milk when we feel under the weather. I&amp;#8217;ll have to ask Ma next time.     &lt;br /&gt;On a side note, I&amp;#8217;m feeling great. I just don&amp;#8217;t know what it is but I am so happy and I love everyone, and I mean everyone, even Davis! I love Ma, she knows exactly how to make me jump and hop. She calls it pop corning but that&amp;#8217;s just not fair cause, I think I&amp;#8217;d like to eat that. It sounds like a delicious treat. I don&amp;#8217;t miss my jiggles, I really thought I would but I feel like a weight has been lifted off of me. I don&amp;#8217;t care about the girls anymore either. Of course I care in that I have so much fun playing with them. Nessie is a lot happier with me, before I kept running after her, trying to smell her umm, privates (how embarrassing) and I just can&amp;#8217;t believe how rude I was.     &lt;br /&gt;Anyway&amp;#8230; hang in there Captain, and if you can, please bring back some soy milk with you when you rejoin the colony tomorrow. But don&amp;#8217;t tell Ma. ;)&lt;/p&gt;  </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/9211723329425614609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4891202329984489985&amp;postID=9211723329425614609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/9211723329425614609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4891202329984489985/posts/default/9211723329425614609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.jorats.com/2008/02/you-lost-what-captain.html' title='You lost what Captain?'/><author><name>Anna Banana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08799024574582740679</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>