Lipher – My Pet Rat
I was nineteen when I took custody of Lipher. She was a lively, loving black and white rat. Right from the start she was amazingly tame, affectionate and craved human company. She liked exploring and would come and snuggle up to you. Her way of greeting was to run up your leg, up your body and on to your shoulder where she would chunter into your ear and nibble your ear-lobe.
I lived in a single, pokey room that was shared with my friend Pete (who filled the tiny space with harmoniums, home-made mando-lutes and guitars). Lipher lived in a bird-cage on the side with the door open. She would sit on top of her cage and survey the room, or run around, climbing on every surface. If you left soap out she would pick it up and hold it in her paws like a squirrel and nibble it. She also had a penchant for tooth-paste.
I used to head off at weekends to see my girlfriend (now wife) and leave Lipher in the room on her own. When I came back she’d bound down off her cage and bounce across the room, claw up to my shoulder and chatter into my ear. She was so overtly pleased to see me.
One of the guys who lived upstairs collared me one day and said: ‘You do know that your rat always comes up to spend the weekend with us when you’re away?’ I didn’t know. But shortly after I left Lipher had worked out that I was off for a weekend, probably by what I was carrying, and made her way upstairs. She scratched on their door until someone let her in and then spent the weekend being pampered. She was always back before I returned. I’d never known. It was as if she was psychic.
One day, in the midst of freezing winter, I’d returned after a weekend and Lipher bounded across the room. She stopped halfway and scooted off under the bed. I couldn’t figure it out. She’d never behaved like that before. It wasn’t until later, after I’d coaxed her out, that I discovered the reason. I’d left my new ankle-length sheepskin coat on the bed. Lipher must have been freezing; she’d chewed a hole in the coat and made a warm nest out of the fur. Somehow she had known it was wrong.
I used to take her out for walks. She’d sit on my shoulder, hiding in my long hair and peering out. She loved it.
One day I went in a baker’s shop. As a student with no money we were always going round looking for the stale bread and cakes or bacon ends. We scavenged. The shop assistance noticed Lipher’s little head poking out and beamed. She tickled her on the head and asked what she was. Was she a hamster? A guinea-pig? I told her she was a rat and the woman jumped back and screamed.
Lipher was one of the best pets I ever had – intelligent, affectionate and loyal. But rats only live two to three years and she developed cancer. I had to take her in to have her put down. I’ve rarely been more upset.
This was Lipher
She lives on.
Lovely name for a rat. Yes, intelligent and much maligned or screamed at. My 17 year old cat sits beside me at the moment, one of the family. So many pets seem to get cancer now? Enjoying Anthropocene.
They are family aren’t they. I still miss them all. I had so many special ‘friends’. Rats are particularly prone to cancer – it’s the inbreeding.
I’m glad you’re enjoying Anthropocene. I felt I had to write that; it’s been eating me up every time I travel and witness the mess we are leaving in our wake. All I can do is write about it and raise awareness. How’s Trevor doing with the Passion for Ed?
I would be very grateful for a review on Amazon if that is possible? All the best – Opher
I will do that on both but we are in manic in between mode at present as we prepare to return. I know what you mean about writing and a purpose and did send off my stories by the deadline. Now I have to put the idea into a novel. Maybe it’s a substitute for teaching….But did find I never quite got the time, space or whatever it took to write much while I was working. Take Care.
Once a creative communicator; always a creative communicator. Writing is an imperative. If I didn’t write my head would explode. I look forward to the novel!
It was tough writing while I was at work but I was driven. I just wrote the books and shoved them in a drawer. I’m now typing up some of the manuscripts! That’s sometimes fun, sometimes irksome and sometimes plain embarrassing. Forty years of writing. But I know if I don’t get it digitalised it would all be thrown. (I’ll expand on this in a blog post).
I presume you are off back to Spain. All the best. Take care – Opher
I forgot to say thanks in advance for the reviews. Best wishes Opher
That was very touching. Pets are our children no matter WHAT species they are. I’m always broken hearted when we have to say goodbye.
Me too. I’ve had to part with some special ones. I’m inconsolable. Lipher, Cherokee and Sam were special for me – my rat, cat and dog.
Yeah, the grief of losing pets is so intense. The relationship is always worth the pain, but so hard at the end. As much as I love bunnies and rats, they just die to fast. I can’t go through it that often. Although, of course, there are no guarantees with any animal. I usually choose dogs, but one never knows who might appear. I wasn’t able to see the picture of Lipher. Just a little blank square. I clicked on it, but no go. I’m so sorry for your heart that she died.
Mary
Thanks Mary. But we wouldn’t do without them would we? They’re precious. I’ll try and sort that picture of Lipher. WordPress can be a bit funny.