February 9th, 2010 by The Rat

Yes, that’s me, Raston A. Rat, pumping IRON!!!  Now that I’m off the peanut-butter cups, I decided I might as well get really fit.  And Tyler suggested that I go to the gym and work out, so I did and found some weights just my size.  Here I am, building up my rodent physique… do you like the ratty muscles in the picture?  Can you tell I’m a MANLY sort of rodent?

I’m hoping the nice library lady will notice. 

And, of course, it’s always nice to feel fit, vigorous, and healthy.

But do you want to know the real reason I work out at the gym?  It’s because there is nothing, absolutely nothing like a little grunting and sweating and flat-out pain to make a rodent feel absolutely fantastic– once he stops.

So… what do you do for exercise?  And how great does it feel when YOU stop?

February 8th, 2010 by The Rat

 Hey, welcome back to all my old bloggers, and a big ratty hello to the third and fourth graders at Baxter Elementary!  And I do mean a BIG RATTY hello, because unfortunately, I have been overdoing it a little lately with the peanut butter cups.  Which became all too clear at the track meet.  Because I was beaten by a hamster.  A HAMSTER!!!  Can you even believe it?

I guess Jocelin was right when she said I might need to lose a little weight.   I mean, a rat needs a little extra padding– lean times could come– but I have to keep in good shape so I can outrun cats.  So I got on the scale.

And… YIKES!  I’d never seen a number that big before! 

So I asked the nice library lady where her weight-loss books for rats were.  And would you believe it?  She said there are NO diet books for rodents!  Not even guinea pigs, and most of them could stand to lose a few ounces!  (Why do you think they call them PIGS??)

Well, back to the most important subject (ME).  Maybe I should write the world’s first diet book for rodents!  I’ve been trying to think of some good titles.  How about, Think Before Inserting Fork in Mouth!  or, Eat Carrots and Turn Unusually Orange!  Or maybe How to Lose Weight on Seventeen Peanut Butter Cups a Day (that diet hasn’t been tested yet.)

Do YOU have any good ideas for titles?

February 5th, 2010 by The Rat

Hey, I’m totally better!  Sure, rodent pox was no fun, and I had to miss my big chance at Rodent Idol (sniff!), plus I did not exactly have success with bowling, but hey, I’m a positive sort of rat, so on to the next thing!  And I thought, well, rats are good runners– what about going out for track?  And lots of you kids suggested it, so I’m trying it, and I’m pretty sure I’ll break all the records.  For rodents, anyway. 

But I have to say, it was hard to find track shoes that fit.  I mean, it isn‘t easy to find a size 1/16 AAAAAAA.  We are talking looooooong and naaaaaaarow, here.  Plus my toes are very pointy.  I need plenty of room for my claws, or I just feel cramped.  And as every runner knows, toe cramps are a very bad thing.

Do any of you have problems with toe cramps?  Tail cramps?  Whisker droop?  What about when you’re running very hard, and the person in front of you kicks up a piece of gravel the size of your head?  Do you duck, or take it on the chin, or what?

Oh, and wish me luck at the track meet– I hear the very nice library lady will be there!  Maybe she’ll make up a cheer for me!  (Do any of YOU have a cheer for me?   Hmmm?)

February 4th, 2010 by The Rat

Okay, so maybe bowling isn’t my thing.

But you know, I was kind of disappointed about missing my chance to be a star at Rodent Idol.  And then I thought, hey, why not be a star at sports? 

Well, naturally I thought of bowling!  Everybody says it’s fun.  And I’m a risk-taking rodent, I’m up for a challenge.  Why not, is my motto?  What do I have to lose?

Only my dignity.  Only my pride.  Only my image of myself as a rat with muscles.

And I got a brand new bowling shirt, too.  Sometimes life just isn’t fair, you know?  How was I supposed to know the ball weighed about a ratzillion pounds?  Have you ever tried to push a ratzillion pounds of ball down a wooden lane that’s 120 times as long as you are?  No?  You should try it some time.  Seriously.  It will give you a new appreciation for the phrase “maximum effort, minimum gain.”

Any ideas for what I should try next?  Hmmm?

February 3rd, 2010 by The Rat

Oh, noooooo….

I can’t believe it!  There I was, standing in line in my tuxedo, waiting to audition for Rodent Idol, when all of a sudden the guard says, “He can’t be on the show– he’s got a rash!  He might be contagious!”

And somebody showed me a mirror, and oh my gosh, I’m covered with SPOTS!  I might have the Bubonic Plague!  Or Scaly Tail Fever!  Or the dreaded RODENT RASH!!

So I staggered back to bed.  Oh, I feel sick.  And it’s hard to breathe… (gasp! gasp! gasp!)  And my dreams!  They’re crushed, I tell you!  CRUSHED!

Sigh.  Well, if I can’t be a star one way, I guess I’ll try another…  Maybe I could be a sports star!  What sports do you think a handsome and highly coordinated rodent– I name no names– might like to play?

February 2nd, 2010 by The Rat

Okay, sure, so I don’t know how old I am.  And I’ve never had a birthday party.  That doesn’t mean that I can’t still be a STAR!  That doesn’t mean that I can’t SING!!!

Oh, sure, I know what you’re thinking.  Mickey Mouse already has me beat.  But listen, I can carry a tune better than Mickey can.  And– just between you and me– I’m better looking.  I have smaller ears, for one thing.  And they’re so perky!  And well-brushed!

Besides, Mickey Mouse didn’t have the opportunities I have.  Yes, that’s right, friends– tonight, I’m going to try out for RODENT IDOL!!!

Here I am, all dressed up in my tuxedo, practicing.  I know all the words to “The Star Spangled Banner,” and “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee,” and “This Land is Your Land.”   (I’m a very patriotic rat.)  And just in case they ask, I can also say the Pledge of Allegiance.  (I didn’t spend years in a fourth grade classroom for nothing.) 

Yes, if Mickey Mouse can be a star, then so can Raston Rat.  Wish me luck, everybody!

February 1st, 2010 by The Rat

I keep getting these questions, like ”How old are you?” and “When is your birthday?”  But I was taken from the nest while still a young ratling– too young to know I even had a birthday!  I don’t like to talk about it, so pleeeeeease don’t ask me any questions.

But You Still Want to Know??

Listen, I’ll say it again–I don’t know when I was born.
Was I part of a litter? I don’t know. Probably. I have a twin sister, but beyond that, who knows?   And seriously, these questions are kind of painful.  I mean, think about it.  I have never, ever, in my entire ratly life, had anyone bake me a birthday cake.  (Now you know why I sob when this subject is brought up.  And why I look so sad in this picture, even though I have a birthday hat on.  See the plate?  Empty.)

The Rat’s Parentage

Well, sure, I had a mom and dad.  Doesn’t everyone?  But I think my Dad was gone before I was even taken from the nest.  I’m pretty sure he was eaten by a cat…

And I remember my mom… dimly.  She was warm, and fuzzy, and she called me “Rasty Roo”…  Oh, I can’t think about her, I get all weepy.  (sniffle!)

The Rat on Birthdays (Again)
So I honestly don’t know when my birthday is.  But hey, why don’t you just give me a birthday present every day of the year?  And then, for sure, at least once you’ll get the right day!  I mean, you don’t want to miss my birthday and get me all traumatized, do you?

Good Rat Birthday Presents
Well, peanut-butter cups, obviously.
A little hair gel might be nice.

And if anyone wants to write me a birthday song, I’d be very very happy!

January 29th, 2010 by The Rat

 Hi again to Mrs. Gustafson’s class!  And here I am with my best bow tie on, combing the fur between my ears so I can look good for the kids from Randolph Heights  and Country Meadows Elementary Schools, too.  Hey, all you third graders in Adena’s library, and you fifth graders in Ms. Fishman’s class, welcome to my blog, glad to see you!  If you like rodents, we are going to get along GREAT!

On the other hand, if any of you bloggers like cats, maybe you’d better not tell me about it.  (See, a cat ate my dad– at least I hear that’s what happened– so you can understand why I’m a little sensitive.)

But if any of you DO know any cats, I have a question for you.  Why are cats so MEAN???

Seriously.  They’ve got their cat toys.  They’ve got their bowls of Kitty Kibbles.  Why can’t that be enough for them?  Why, oh why must they insist on a rodent for dessert?

Can anyone tell me?

January 28th, 2010 by The Rat

RASTON RAT:  Hey, all you second graders at Crest View Elementary, I am ready to blog!!!  Whew… just let me take off my ski goggles… ah, that’s better.   Just got back from my ski vacation, and WOW!  It’s good to be WARM again!  (Not that I didn’t burn up the slopes with my smokin’ hot skiing, but hey, I don’t want to brag…)

LYNNE JONELL:  But you ARE bragging, Ratty.

RASTON RAT:  Well, it’s not bragging if you’re telling the truth, right?

LYNNE JONELL:  Er…

RASTON RAT:  I thought so.  Now back to what’s important, namely ME!  (And you, too, of course, dear readers! ) Yes, it’s really true, my friends– you’re going to get to talk to the famous, the thrilling, the incendiary, the one and only Raston RAT!!!  And I’ll be right here at the keyboard to answer your quest–

LYNNE JONELL:  Uh, Ratty– are you sure you meant incendiary?

RASTON RAT:  Delete that.  Sustitute “exceptionally good-looking.”  Yes, here I am, ready and willing to chat with my new rodent friends in Mrs. Gustafson’s class!

LYNNE JONELL:  But Ratty, I’m pretty sure the second graders at Crest View aren’t rodents.

RASTON RAT:  Not rodents?  Are you sure?

LYNNE JONELL:  I have a feeling they’re– you know– boys and girls.

RASTON RAT:  Oh.  Well, of course,  not everyone can be a rodent.  Don’t feel bad.  And you’re all going to be my friends, aren’t you?  I mean, I certainly hope so.  Unless, of course, some of you are cats. 

(None of you are cats… ARE you?)  

December 15th, 2009 by The Rat

Well, it’s that time again, bloggers… yes, I’m going on vacation!  It’s been all kinds of fun blogging with you, KHN and Florida kids, but my little ratty paws are getting tired and I need a break.

So I’m off to the rat-tastic slopes and fresh powder of Ratspen, an exclusive resort for the upscale rodent on the go.  Here I am in my ski togs and my brand new snow goggles… and you want to know the best thing of all?  NO CATS.  (They don’t much like snow.  Plus, I’ve never met one yet that could ski.)

Off I go… shuuuuussssss!!!