Curiosity and Rats

A word to the wise--do not lite candles in your home if you have pets. Q, you're probably going to get a kick out of this; I probably should have learned my lesson after we both heard that story on the radio about the long-haired cat.

Mr. Borealis and I have two children. They are both rats. We love them dearly and spoil them rotten, and their health and well-being is at the forefront of our minds, so please be sure that this incident was not a result of any foreseeable negligence.

We also had rats in the past, and as I have tended to see with small mammals, each one has a very distinct personality. Right now our two babies are Clover and Lexis (both female hooded rats), and we have respectively nicknamed them our "Cuddler" and "Adventurer". We've had rats in the past who were "Lap Rat" and "Scaredy Rat," and we love them all for being so unique in behavior.

Clover the "Cuddler" is a real sweety, and she loves to curl up with you (and your bowl of popcorn) and settle in for a good long movie.

Lexis the "Adventurer", on the other hand, couldn't hold still for two seconds to save her life--seriously, this rat might have ADHD. Still a real sweety, but always on the move, has to touch everything, has to go everywhere we let her just so she can explore it. The rat seriously has trouble stopping just to pee and eat.

So coming to tonight's story, Mr. Borealis and I like to light candles while we watch movies. We only use taller candles in glass jars, and have never had a problem before. The rats "watch" with us. Clover curls up in Mr. Borealis's shirt, and periodically moves to his sleeves, pants legs, etc., and Lexis runs around the couch and anywhere else she can reach that I can easily clean after playtime.

So we're watching, and I suddenly smell something funny. It smells like burning fur. I look over at the candle and everything looks fine. Lexis investigating some coasters next to the candle.

"Do you smell something burning?" I casually ask Mr. Borealis, picking up Lexis and putting her back where she's allowed. He agrees that something smells off, and I curiously begin to inspect the candle. The candle is fine, so on an afterthought I pick up Lexis to give her a quick look over.

And I discover that she has singed off her right whiskers. And while Mr. Borealis and I freak out over this fact, fawning over our baby and worrying over whether this warrants a trip to the vet, she is still running the couch, climbing between the cushions, and generally seeming to exuberantly yell "woohoo! it's movie night and the couch is mine!"

Lexis, in short, isn't any worse for the wear. She's hunky-dory, and probably bragging to Clover about her close brush. The whiskers appear to be all that were injured, and those grow back. And even with her adventurous spirit, Mr. B and I were both amazed she had the gall to get that close to fire; I'm reasonably sure (what with the intelligence of rats and their learning capacity) that she won't do it again any time soon. She's accumulated a fair amount of "curiosity accident injuries" in her time, all of which we freaked about, and all of which she brushed off and was smart enough to never get again--but to be sure, there will be no more lit candles when the rats are out!

As bad as this could have been, and even with all the warnings we know about candles, I once again issue the warning that candles need your attention. Don't lite them unless you intend to watch them, and I highly recommend you forgo them in favor of other mood makers if you have free roaming pets.

What's that smell?
Alula