A Tribute

They say that diamonds are a girl's best friend. They only say that because not enough girls have given rats a chance. If more girls had rats as pets, it might be an entirely different phrase.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I love diamonds - it's just that my rat Cindy was a better friend than any chunk of sparkly rock.

Cindy was the best four legged friend I've ever had (which, if you know my family's pet history, you would know that this is a significant statement). I got her after learning I would be transferring to Western (which I never did). I was scared that I wouldn't have any friends because most of them are away at school, so in a rash decision I picked up a rodent cage from the "free" pile of a closing garage sale. I took it straight to PetSmart and, when the lady said, "How I can I help you?" I replied, "I would like a pet for this cage." That is the day that my love of rats was born.

Since that day, my love of rats has spread to my husband, my sister, my brother-in-law, my friends Katie and Thea, Rex's cousin Joe, my sister's friend Morgan, my parents, Rex's parents, and many others. All because of this sweet little girl rat named Cinderella. Her ashes gray fur inspired her name, but it turned into a series of a million nicknames: Cindy, Cinders, Cindy-Lou-Who (around Christmas), Cinders-Linders, Cinders-cuteness, and Princess of cute.

You may laugh, but she really was a spoiled princess if there ever was a royal rat. She had two birthday parties, all the toys and treats she could dream of, sneak licks of my brownie batter and sometimes a bite of my cinnamon toast crunch in the morning when I was eating breakfast. I taught her a few tricks, and she was even a "special guest" in my class a few different times!

Even with everything I have ever given Cindy, she has given me immeasurably more. When I decided to go back to MSU instead of Western, I had my own room for a semester while my roommate was studying abroad in Ecuador. Cindy was my illegal roommate in the dorm. Every day when I would get home from class (and every day until the day she died), as soon as I walked into the room she would JUMP onto the bars of her cage, smiling at me as if to say, "Hooray! You're here!! Finally! I missed you! Can we play now?! Please?!?" And of course I would play with her. Because she was my best friend.

If you think I'm making it up about Cindy being happy to see me, you obviously never met Cindy (and therefore I feel sorry for you). She had an entire spectrum of emotions. Whenever I walked into the room she would be happy and cheerful. If I was sad, though, she would instantly look sad as well as if to say, "What's wrong, Mom?" If I was crying, she would LITERALLY climb up onto me, stand on my chest, put her paws on my face, and lick off my tears. Then she would sit down in my lap and let me pet her until I felt better, even though it was obvious that she would rather be running around and playing. I don't know how much rats are capable of love, but if they are then I would say that she loved me.
It wasn't all love all the time, though! Cindy sure could have an attitude if she was mad at me. If I was playing with the cat instead of her, if I (GASP!) took her to the vet, or if I didn't give her as many treats as Houdini (Rex's rat), she would give me the cold shoulder and GLARE (rats can glare - I promise) at me until she decided I was worthy of her playfulness again and then she would come back out to play (generally about five minutes later).

Rex got a rat too, so we bred them and Cindy became a mom! She had ten beautiful babies, and one of her descendants still lives with my little sister. She was a great mom. She had her babies at 4 AM on an otherwise normal night in October. I was woken by a tiny squeak coming from the cage, one I knew was too small to be Cindy, so I rushed over and called into her hut/nest: "Cindy! Girl! Is it time?! Are you okay?" She poked out just her head to look at me, and she had the proudest look on her face that I have ever seen on anyone (animal or human). She was SO happy and SO proud of herself! It was fun raising those babies with her (so I was now harboring 11 illegal rats in my dorm), and by the time they were old enough to sell they were climbing all over her and the cage. She would look at me every day as if "Please. Can they go now? They're driving me crazy." Ha ha! I think she was happy when it was once again just her and I.

Cindy was SO smart, too. I would let her run around my dorm room, and when it was time to put her back in her cage I would just say, "Cinders! Come here!" and she would come running. I taught her to jump through a hoop, run in circles around my arms, and how to play tag. Tag was the MOST fun. I would take her out to play, and I would start "running" with my hand around the bed, floor, or wherever we were playing. She would run around and try to catch my hand, and whenever she caught it she would rest her mouth on my hand and then look up expectantly to say, "HA! I WIN! Can I have a treat?"

I already miss her like crazy, which I know is pathetic - but it's true. She died peacefully in her sleep while sleeping in her favorite hut. With an average rat lifespan of 1-2 years, Cindy was closing in on three so I suppose it was just her time. Still, the world lost a little piece of sunshine. I'm not sure of my beliefs on animals in heaven - they don't have souls, so logically I have been leaning towards the idea that there aren't any there. Still, it hasn't stopped me from praying all day, "God? You know how you're preparing a place for me? I don't mean to be selfish...but can Cindy be there? Please? I think Heaven would be a lot more fun if she was there. And it's hard for me to think I'll never see her again, so...please? Do you think you could make an exception to the animal rule (if there is one) and let her hang out? You'll like her - I promise." She's the best.

And she really, really is. Bye Cindy - thanks for always being there for me. I miss you already. I love you, and I promise you'll never be forgotten.