I remember when you were a little pup, tiny enough to sleep under a mini-kleenex box. You were timid and curious all at once. Before long, you were tunneling your way through our shirt sleeves and chewing through the speaker wires. Soon the living room was not big enough for you, and you were determined to know what was on the other side of the door. I remember when you’d stay on the beds because you couldn’t tell how far down the floor was. You’d carefully walk along the bed frame and climb the alarm clock cord up to the window sill. You loved to chase our fingers around the pillows and gently wrestle with them too. Soon enough, you took the plunge off the edge, and the whole house was yours to explore. You learned to jump high and perfected your climbing until nothing here was untouched…the telephone cord, lamp cords, the remote control buttons, couch pillows, the potpourri dish, Chris’s favorite t-shirts, shoes, lotion bottles, toothpaste, soap bars, the wooden dish rack, my plants on the window sills, backpacks, books, headphones, my lip pencils, boxed food on the rolling pantry, the fruit bowl on the table, even the inside of the refrigerator. You entertained us with your daring stunts, how you would climb anything (towels, hanging clothes, our legs!) to get as high as you could. I remember finding you running along the top of our bedroom door and then watching you find your way down, sliding part of the way and catching yourself in mid-fall. And how your tail moved so precisely to help you balance yourself. I remember how special it was when you would finally lie still next to me and let me pet you for a few minutes with your eyes closed and little pink ears folded back. Then you gradually began to demand more and more attention. You would crawl into our laps and become “rat putty” in our hands. You would “accidentally” fall into cuddling position. We loved to rub your big soft white belly and scratch your cheeks to give you “happy feet”. Sometimes you would lie cradled like a baby with all four of your pink feet sticking up, and sometimes you gave us rat kisses in return. We tried to kiss your little pink nose and you would push our lips away with your tiny hands. I remember all of your favorite hiding places: first the pillows on the bed (and how sweet you looked when you were warm and sound asleep under them!), then under the blankets on the top closet shelf, sometimes on the kitchen chair or somebody’s soft sweatshirt. And then you found the sweater box under the bed and claimed it as your own. You entertained us with your rodent instincts in combination with your persistence. Your food stashes were everywhere along with collections of miscellaneous items – kleenex, receipts, soap bars, and plenty of socks. I remember watching you drag my slippers under the bed, run across the room with large sheets of paper, and carry a big apple down the hallway and then try to pull it through a tiny crack behind the night stand. You found endless sources of paper (my files of journal articles, Chris’s bookmarks, the office trashcan), and I’d listen to you pull them one by one into the small opening to your box and proceed to make an intricate paper nest. I remember watching you with fascination as you’d meticulously clean yourself. Your little legs could scratch your fur so fast yet clean the inside of your ears so gently. And you were so adorable when you scrubbed your face and head with both of your hands. It was amazing how much you could do with your little hands; you’d pull our fingers closer to you or manipulate your food. I remember watching you turn a pumpkin seed around as you peeled it with your teeth. We laughed at your rat teeth, too, how big and orange they were. You could chew through anything with them, but you were so gentle with us. I remember how you’d take food from us with such excitement but you would carefully scrape things from our fingers. You went crazy in the kitchen when food was out and always took big spills in pursuit of something tasty. You knew the meaning of the toaster bell because we always shared our bagels and cream cheese. You would bunch your body up in eating position and get mad if we tried to disturb you! You made me giggle so many times with the cute and funny things you’d do…climbing into our shoes or a full kleenex box, drinking water from the bathroom faucet or your little dish on the bathroom floor, nibbling on our books while we were reading in bed, sprinting down the hall with bits of food, and curling up to Chris’s foot as he was working on the computer. You were quite the social butterfly and demanded attention from all of our guests. You also nibbled on their shoes and bags, and stole their socks and dollar bills! I remember how you loved to drink beer and wine, how you’d cling on to our shirts like a velcro ball, how you’d hang on the side of your cage as if to yell “Let me out!”, and how funny you looked balancing on the rim of a glass awkwardly reaching your head inside to drink the water. I remember the sound of you knocking the trashcans over again and again, and I’ll never forget the sound of your little “pitter-patter” on the carpet followed by the “thump” onto the heater vent before you jumped up on our bed. You had some scary experiences as well – jumping onto the toilet to find the lid was not closed (though it was quite funny to fish you out!), getting lost outside for five whole days, and how many times did we accidentally step on your tail? It was so hard to see you sick near the end, and I wish we could have helped and comforted you more. I held your little lifeless body in disbelief; it was so hard to let you go. You had touched my life and brought me so much joy. And now our house seems so empty. I hope you knew how deeply you were loved. And I hope you are somewhere safe and warm and happy, my little “rat potato”.