Puddles: the best rat a girl could ever have.

When I was six my older sister Natalie brought home a rat to do a science experiment with (She was testing to see if music effected his intelligence but that is not the important part). The important information that you need to know is that from the moment that I set eyes on this rat I knew we were going to be the best of friends.




And I was right.




This rat became my constant companion, literally. I convinced my mother that Puddles (the name my sister had given it, I personally had wanted Prince Guinevere Washington the III) needed to stay in my room because he got scared at night and couldn’t handle being downstairs all by his lonesome self. I would play with him, watch TV with him, painting him different colors, chase my mom around the house with him, go to the grocery store with him (yes, that is right. I went to the grocery store with him. Well, I guess it was more that I snuck him under my shirt into the grocery store...but that only happened once because my mom got real mad when she found out from store manager while being asked to leave me and puddles at home next time). Oh yes, I have many fond memories of spending time with this rat.



However, there is one memory that I just can’t help but share.



One hot afternoon in summer I was playing with my neighbor's granddaughter at my house, we were playing Kim Possible (I was Kim (naturally) and she was evil green villain lad) but soon got bored with it. When my mom saw the bored look she immediately sent us back over to my friends house (because we had a tendency to do things that were a bit mischievous when we got bored...such as paint my bed with nail polish, call 911 to see what would happen and have fashion shows...on my kitchen counter). When we got to my friend’s Grandma’s house I politely asked my friend where I should put Puddles while we played. She decided that the best place to put him was in the toy chest by the back door. She also informed me that we should probably keep it a secret from Oma (that is what we called her grandma).




However, I really liked Oma and did not like the idea of keeping a secret from her.


Before I continue the story, there are a few things you need to know: 1.Oma is a very proper older woman that immigrated from Germany after WWII. 2. She had a lot of other old woman friends. On this particular day, they were all out in the backyard, wearing dresses that had way to many pastel colored flowers and shoes that were the loveliest shades of puke green and old lady tan available, having a lovely garden party.


Back to the story, so after about an hour of the most epic game of ninja princess out there, I was feeling to guilty about hiding puddles from Oma to continue. So while my friend was in the bathroom, I went of to the toy chest and found Puddles under the Polly Pocket dream house. After contemplating the best possible way to approach her I decided to just go right up and spit it out (I've never been one that successfully sugar coats things unless it is regards to baking). So I put Puddles behind my back and walked right up to Oma.




At that current moment, all of the ladies were sitting about a round table sipping their spots of tea and eating their crumpets. Abiding by my nature, I walked right up to her and said, “Oma, I like you. So I need to tell you something.” At this point all of the ladies we were watching me and looking at one another with that “she-is-just-so-cute-that-I-can’t-help-but-want-to-pinch-her-cheeks” kind of look. That look didn't stay to long. It is then that I brought the rat around in their line of sight...what followed is a vision that I will never forget.





Oma gasped, at least two ladies fell back in their chairs with their pudgy short legs and puke green shoes straight up in the air, and all the other ladies were screaming.

It was chaos.

But that is not the end.

When I saw the ladies fall backwards I couldn't help but start giggling causing Puddles to startle and leap out of my hands onto the table. This was followed by half a dozen handbags being flung onto the table causing the tea and crumpets to go flying.



The rest of this story is not that entertaining. I ran around her back porch and caught Puddles. Parents were called. I was grounded from puddles for a week which, after informing my parents that we were ruining my life and crying for about twenty minuets, was extended to two weeks and puddles usually hung out at home after that (not because of my desire of-course, but more because everyone was ordered to pat me down before I walked out the door form then on).



Anywho, that was Puddles. The best darn rat my six-year-old-self could have ever asked for.