A few years ago, not to long but definitely in the past, a Humber Comedy Student moved in with a few of my friends. With her she brought an evil, scabby, crusty, angry, rat named Otis with the biggest set of balls I've ever seen. At first Otis would nip and bite anything that entered his cage.
His cage sat at the top of the stairs after you walk into the apartment making him unavoidable. He caused a few drunken friends to bleed from their finger tips and even a nose. I would wrap my hand in my sweater and attempt to pet him; once he figured out he was unable to bite through the sweater her stopped trying to bite me all together. At the same time my friend was picking him up while wearing oven mitts to get him used to being held without biting.
Eventually his scabs disappeared and he stopped biting people. He would come out during small parties and climb across people. Those who passed out were tea bagged using Otis' giant nut sack.
His cage was moved to the kitchen right next to the couch that I slept on after becoming to intoxicated to make it home. Otis would tell me stories that i can only assume (because i don't speak rat) were about his life before moving to the grange house, or how all four of the cats in the house had been sitting on the outside of his cage trying to find a way in.
The original owner moved out leaving Otis in the care of my friend who had grown quite attached to the little guy. I moved in for the last two months of the lease and brought Otis in to see my new room. He quickly looked around then crawled up my sleeve and sat in between my shirt and lower back. I watched a movie waiting for him to come out but instead he chilled inside my shirt making happy rat sounds ignoring me constantly saying "shhhh i can't hear what George Carlin is saying to the time traveling duo of Bill and Ted."
The Grange house was good times, but all good things must come to an end and we eventually moved. After the move Otis seemed to crank up the volume of his rat sounds and he also added another wheezy one to his repertoire. His cage now sat in our new living room which gave him the opportunity to watch more movies and get more people food (popcorn, french fries, cheese, you name it) from those in the room.
The wheezing became more frequent, his nose would bleed, his energy was low, his sight was fading, but worst of all he stopped eating people food. For weeks we watched as The Otis we knew and loved changed into some unknown animal. Finally one day while refilling my coffee he passed away on the ramp to the upper level of his cage.
After the tears were shed we had to figure out what to do with him. We couldn't just toss him out with the trash. We discussed it and decided to get him stuffed, harder to do than it sounds. We wrapped him in a plastic back and set the bag in a box and set the box in the freezer to keep him fresh. Taxidermist, for the most part wont stuff pets or rodents and after a few weeks of trying to find someone to do it we gave up on the idea.
It was decided that we would give Otis a viking funeral, setting him ablaze and then pushing him out to sea (well out to lake but you use what you can). A day was picked so that morning i take him out to thaw. Two hours before the funeral it is canceled because key members in the life of Otis are unavailable. I stick him back in the freezer. Another day is set but before I can tell my roommate that I got called into work she tells me again the funeral is canceled.
Otis the dead rat has been freezing in my freezer for months now keeping him from returning to the halls of Valhalla where there would be much drinking and rejoicing as the stories of Otis' life echo off the walls. But for the time being he is sitting there in my freezer keeping me from grabbing ice or having frozen veggies with my meals.
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