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What Surgery?
I went to take my shower this morning, and Andres shouted "Wait! A rat just ran out of the bathroom!" Sure enough, there was Aphrodite, having knocked the lid off the recovery tank, jumped out of the tank, jumped off the coffee table, and gone exploring.

"You're supposed to be resting," I told her as I put her back in the tank.

After my shower, I noticed the tank lid ajar again, went and retrieved her from visiting the boys (chinders's rats are hanging out in the study), and plonked a nice heavy book on top of the cage. This is exactly why I don't want unneutered males in the house. But hah! Aphrodite's just been spayed, and can't get herself in trouble!

The Norton Anthology of Literature seems to be having some trouble keeping her contained. I will go switch her over to the small cage in a minute; climbing the walls is probably less bad for her incisions than jumping into the lid.

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It's as if rats live their lives on fast-forward. No sooner is something over than it's far in the past. Aki, my dearest rat, had a recurring tumor that required surgery every few months. Literally hours after an operation under general anesthesia, all stitched up like Frankenstein's Rodent, she would be climbing the bookshelves and demanding treats. Meanwhile I would be worn out from the day's terror. I could never bear to put the little collar on her, either, because she hated it so, and she'd groom her stitches out in short order and go about her business. What astonishing little creatures they are, so stoic yet so joyful.

I hope you and Aphrodite have many more happy months together.

Thanks! Is that Aki in your icon?

That is her hooded head, yes. "The doe's nose" is an expression I like to use to refer to something particularly great, though so far no one has picked it up.

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