Bogie is a SHE!

This early morning, I have a dream. Rat Lady tells me she has Bogie! He’s in a nice, big rat cage all of his own. But instead of being a skinny little guy, he’s nice and plump and bright white. He leaps from his cage into my arms. I hold him much like I do my Yorkie, Zoie.

Rat Lady hands him one of those green dog bones. He chews it. A Greenie? For a rat? Amazing! He’s just like a dog! I’m so glad he’s fat and happy now. He’s so well-loved and not afraid anymore.

Then I wake up to reality.
Later today, I meet Rat Lady at the park. I tell her of my dream.
“I think the green bone is so funny!” I tell her. “I think I dreamed that because he has such a dog-like personality.”

Rat Lady smiles. “What’s interesting about that is we give rats those kind of bones. They love them!”

Who knew?

Then she adds. “That’s a good dream she says. I think that means we’ll get him today.”

I hope she’s right. We call Bogie and he doesn’t come out right away like he has in the past. Now I’m worried. I see his hole is a little-bit caved in. This can’t be a good sign. Has he suffocated in there? My heart pounds. How is it possible I’m so emotionally attached to a RAT?

Finally, his little nose pokes out. Rat Lady and I both heave big sighs.

This time we have a new plan. She places the cheese up on the high mound and we wait, her hand inside the rat towel. When he inches up, she throws the towel down over his hole. When Bogey gets scared, he tries to back into his hole again but he can’t.

His eyes meet ours. “How could you?” he seems to say.
It WAS a trick after all.
Now I feel guilty. That ole’ Catholic girl in me is creeping out . . .
He is backed into the brush on the little mound of dirt by his hole.

“The net is in the car,” says Rat Lady.
“It would be good to have it,” I say. “I could pop it over him now.”
She reaches behind her carefully and hands me her keys. I slide out to retrieve it from her trunk.
When I get back, she smiles and points to the cage.
“I got him with my bare hands!” she says.
Bogie simply had no where to go. The hole was blocked. The brush “caged” him in.

That old cliche of one’s jaw dropping is really true. Mine does.
“And he’s a she!”
“Bogie!” I say. “You’re a good girl!”
Bogie stands straight and tall in her cage, checking out every rung and sniff.
Rat Lady ties the cage door shut.
“He’ll get a new, bigger cage at home. First thing I’ll do is take him for his shots.”

She’s going to be a good Rat Mom. I’ll miss him.
“Send me pictures,” I say weakly.
She nods. “You can post them on your Facebook. And yes, you can have visitation rights.”
I smile. Oh good. I wasn’t looking forward to full-time rat feeding all year-long at the park. Not up to being a rat mom. But being a rat aunt is something I can handle.

Writing Exercise: 1. When you have a success, think about it. What did you do that worked? Did you think “out of the box?” Do something differently?
2. Celebrate each and every little goal you achieve. It doesn’t have to be a major book publication. It could be when you finish writing a difficult scene, chapter, or article. Pat yourself on the back, read a good poem, or take yourself on a walk . . .to a park . . . to feed a rat.