Bath Day, Or Bringing a New Meaning to the Phrase "Rats Nest"
Well, it was scrub day again today. Not just a quick litter change and some snuggles, no, today was the less-frequent Lets All Smell Nice Now While Momma Is Gross day. Ugh.
I bathe everything on Scrub Day. Everything, and everyone, excepting the two smallest babies, who are very very very Don't Touch Me Like That when it comes to outside of the cage activities. They are my antisocial ratties, and I love them anyways. But everyone else gets a bath, and the two boys whose tails have the scaling get the germicidal spray and some watered down lotion, l;ike they get every day. And yay for getting better! But scrub time happens about every three to four weeks. So, it isn't as if this is new. But oh, the drama.
The easiest to bathe is Mamabear, who is my little smooshy-tummyied love muffin. Being that she is harness trained and has been in the wider world at large, she takes a ton of stuff in stride, including the Dreaded Bath. I swear, bathing my CATS is easier and less damaging. Course, I can clip the cats' nails... The others do not like baths, though. AT ALL. I used to have a few rats when I was much younger who loooved bath time,. They'd be all swimmy and everything, and push floaty toys about the sink or tub, depending on which I was using at the time. But not the Hoarde. Oh no. I get scratched and they scream and it's like bathing a toddler, only harder in some respects. Cause rat babies are fast, and even faster when slicked up with soap. Weeee, I run away! And then I catch the baby and sploosh a little water to get the soap off, and they pop through my fingers and the chase is on all over again. Drama. Momma is a tired Rattie Momma.
Scrubbing the cages is always a huge chore, and leaves me soaked and smelly, but they are all shiny clean and filled with new litter and fresh-laundered towels and hammocks. Which brings me to this:
This... this is my new nightmare. What you are looking at is three hammocks and two towels, fresh out of the dryer and snarled into a Gordian Knot of DEATH.
It took me 20 minutes and a sharp pair of shears to unravel this mess, and I managed to save two out of the three hammocks cordings. The towels were a total bust, but I have more. Dollar stores are my friend, So, since I am poor, and I do have sewing skills, I have dragged down my fabric and my felting, and I am going to make some homemade hammocks to replace the sad, chrewed, snarled messes that are hanging in thier cages right now. At least they are clean, I suppose. And so are my babies. I even managed to snap a few pics of Squigglebutt and Mamabear.
Mamabear, for the wet win. She always makes me feel better.
And two of Squigglebutt, who is always the most unhappy with baths and needs a bit of extra Momma time.
x-posted to ratties
I bathe everything on Scrub Day. Everything, and everyone, excepting the two smallest babies, who are very very very Don't Touch Me Like That when it comes to outside of the cage activities. They are my antisocial ratties, and I love them anyways. But everyone else gets a bath, and the two boys whose tails have the scaling get the germicidal spray and some watered down lotion, l;ike they get every day. And yay for getting better! But scrub time happens about every three to four weeks. So, it isn't as if this is new. But oh, the drama.
The easiest to bathe is Mamabear, who is my little smooshy-tummyied love muffin. Being that she is harness trained and has been in the wider world at large, she takes a ton of stuff in stride, including the Dreaded Bath. I swear, bathing my CATS is easier and less damaging. Course, I can clip the cats' nails... The others do not like baths, though. AT ALL. I used to have a few rats when I was much younger who loooved bath time,. They'd be all swimmy and everything, and push floaty toys about the sink or tub, depending on which I was using at the time. But not the Hoarde. Oh no. I get scratched and they scream and it's like bathing a toddler, only harder in some respects. Cause rat babies are fast, and even faster when slicked up with soap. Weeee, I run away! And then I catch the baby and sploosh a little water to get the soap off, and they pop through my fingers and the chase is on all over again. Drama. Momma is a tired Rattie Momma.
Scrubbing the cages is always a huge chore, and leaves me soaked and smelly, but they are all shiny clean and filled with new litter and fresh-laundered towels and hammocks. Which brings me to this:
This... this is my new nightmare. What you are looking at is three hammocks and two towels, fresh out of the dryer and snarled into a Gordian Knot of DEATH.
It took me 20 minutes and a sharp pair of shears to unravel this mess, and I managed to save two out of the three hammocks cordings. The towels were a total bust, but I have more. Dollar stores are my friend, So, since I am poor, and I do have sewing skills, I have dragged down my fabric and my felting, and I am going to make some homemade hammocks to replace the sad, chrewed, snarled messes that are hanging in thier cages right now. At least they are clean, I suppose. And so are my babies. I even managed to snap a few pics of Squigglebutt and Mamabear.
Mamabear, for the wet win. She always makes me feel better.
And two of Squigglebutt, who is always the most unhappy with baths and needs a bit of extra Momma time.
x-posted to ratties