A Wonderful Life, by Izzy

Lumps. You get ’em in your oatmeal if you’re not careful, on your noggin if you’re clumsy, or just in life, cos that’s how it is.

I got a lot of lumps. Not just the physical ones, either. I mean, when I first met Mom, when I was a baby, I was kinda a biter. Snip snap crunch if you looked at me wrong. And to be honest, I haven’t quiiiiiiiite given up on that, even now. I messed with Mom’s head tonight by giving her a chomp when she saw my adorable face peeking out the igloo and stuck her finger in to pet my head. I’m not really sure why I did that, and it’s been so long since the last chomp that this time, Mom did the yi yi yi hand-jerk thing. Then she laughed! I had to look out again to see what was so funny, and she said I didn’t even really bite her. Then she stuck her finger in my face again and… I dunno… it was like I had to — so I did. But — nothing happened! Mom didn’t move away or jump or yell. Hmmm. So I started chewing on her finger (hey, it was already in my mouth), and she giggled.

I am totally losing my touch.

But wait — losing my touch? Why would I even want to bite Mom anyway?

Um, I dunno. It wasn’t really a thought, it just happened.

But I lost my point here. Lumps! That was it. I got lumps. All over me. Lotsa tumor thingies. And THE tumor, the PT (brain tumor) — it’s, like, so not there. From the Dostinex that Mom makes me take every night. The stuff works. Tastes like ass, though. No, wait, ass tastes pretty good, I’ve licked mine and my siblings’ a lot. The Dostinex tastes like… medicine. Bleggah. It works great for my PT, but of course doesn’t work on the other tumors. Luckily, the others don’t hurt.

They are starting to kinda bother me, though. Getting in my way sometimes, making me tired. Well, I’m pretty old, and being tired kinda comes with the territory, so who knows if it’s the lumps or old age. Ooh, one good thing about being old as dirt is that just about whenever Mom touches me, I just sort of flop down and fall asleep where I am, cos she gives me lovely massages. I love it when she massages my ears, the top of my head, in between my shoulder blades, and the sides of my face under my eyes. She kisses me on my face, too, and I let her cos I love her lots, even though something like that would have bothered me when I was younger. Doesn’t bother me now, though, I just love it. And I still love being wrapped in my towel, of course, and lying there safe and warm and toasty while Mommy kisses and pets me and tells me over and over again that she loves me and that I’m beautiful.

Dontcha wish you had my life?

Well, I’ve had my life, and it’s been wonderful. I’ve had lotsa fun. Eating so many extremely yummy foods and treats whenever I’ve wanted to. Making the most awesome nests in the igloos with my siblings. Chasing string Mom dragged across the hardwood floor. Shredding paper towels to my heart’s content. Exploring Mom’s inner ear while sitting on her shoulder, chewing on her hair while sitting on the back of her neck, trying to chew off her eyelashes while she kissed me. Chasing my sibs around the cages and room at 3 AM making all kinds of noise, then looking sleepy and innocent when Mommy gets out of bed and turns on the light to make sure we weren’t killing one another. Climbing onto the windowsills and lounging there in the summer sun, my face pressed to the screen, occasionally lifting my chin when a warm breeze blew interesting smells into the room. Biting Nitram when Mom told him I wouldn’t! Running up and down the hallway like a nutter. Playing in the upstairs bath behind the sink where that slight leak makes for some interesting floor-licking. Chewing on table legs, couches, Booda bones, whole walnuts, apple tree sticks, Mommy’s favorite slippers, the curtain that peeks under the laundry room door, Mom’s sweatshirt, and my sibs’ ears and tails. Sleeping on my head (I know it looks weird but we rats know about how to sleep professionally, so don’t knock it til you’ve tried it). Tossing litter and bedding around the cages and room until everything is decorated just right, then doing it all over again the next night. Playing Kill the Hand and Gotcha with Mom. Sleeping in a pile with my three sibs, noses up asses, feet in ears, tails round necks, everyone breathing and dreaming together…

Like I said, if you had my life, you’d know what living really is, and what’s important and what’s not.

So, not because it’s that time of year, but because it’s that time of my life, I want to wish you all a life like mine: good food, great play, interesting smells, and, please — Humans — get a clue about how to sleep. Just pile up and do it. You all don’t get enough of that.

Speaking of sleep, like I said, I’m really very tired now, so I’ve got to nestle in and snooze for a good long while. This is likely my last blog post. Oh, okay, I know I only wrote like three of them, but it was fun talking at you all when I had the chance… and the energy.

Have a wonderful life.

Love, Izzy.

2 responses to “A Wonderful Life, by Izzy

  1. Take care, Izzy *hug*

  2. :*) She has had a wonderful life, I wish it could go on forever for her.

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