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greenstormMy breeding partner bullied me into posting a biographical thing on a rat mailing list I'm part of. I'm reposting here for archival purposes. Notice how it's slanted to a particular audience (boyfriend is singular, etc).
Apparently I like being bullied by people when I feel I can safeword out if necessary... this will come as no surprise to anyone.
I'm Erin (Greenstorm, not to be confused with Erin M) of Small Joys Rattery (JOY). I've been keeping rats for sometime between 6 and 8 years now, I think, and I've only been breeding for the last few of those. I really feel I'm more of an evil SITH apprentice than a real breeder because if it wasn't for Lizzy's constant support and the help of my boyfriend Angus I'd never be able to handle the nearly fifty that I have- it's quite a ride both emotionally and financially, not to mention timewise, but the longer I do this the more I am absolutely wedded to these great-grandbabies of mine.
I've had a couple of those ups and downs just recently: one of my absolutely favourite girls, Popcorn, and my dear Hades who is (finally) the descendant of the first two rats I got from Lizzy and thence from Uno have just had a litter. In addition to being very special personality-wise (it really is a pleasure and a privilege to share my life with these particular ratkids) I may have produced my first-- if not BEW, then my first almost entirely white rat with a debatable darkish smudge on the back but NO EARSPOT! I've been trying to do this basically since day one, and I know it happens to other people accidentally with dalmation lines, so I'm pretty chuffed. It doesn't hurt that the little girl is every bit as sweet as, well, nearly everyone from that line and licky as all get-out (except for the occasional explorabrat who reliably shows up). So that was an up.
The down was that I always breed two litters at once, and the second one produced only one baby-- and he was deformed and not mentally right. He didn't seem to be in pain, but his bones and legs didn't seem to be quite properly shaped, and he had a lot of trouble learning not to eat litter, not to get twisted and stuck in the bedding-- Angus rescued him any number of times. Trooper, as we called him, at least knew enough that when he was in a fix he could squeak loudly and if his mom couldn't fix it then we could. Angus works from home, so he could be around for that. But Trooper just wasn't destined to stay long, and after a month of devoted nursing he passed away quite recently.
Throughout this saga I've been putting in summer hours at work, and working a couple extra hours at a second job to pay tuition and put food in my mouth. Yesterday and the previous day, for instance, were 12 and 15 hour workdays respectively.
I spent most of my growing-up years on a hobby farm, and switched to rats as a more practical but still cuddly city pet when I moved to a series of apartments in Vancouver, Canada. I never have been interested enough in any other animal to commit to one as an adult, though I expect that one day the right dog will find me. I work as a very urban landscaper in the downtown core, and I am going back to school full-time this fall while carrying a three-day work week and keeping the rats and the boyfriend-- I'm terrified of the amount of work this will take, but I'm sure I'll get through it.
When I have time to daydream I picture myself as a market farmer or an ecosystem designer-- I'm very interested in agro/food systems and growing food in multi-use systems has always been my true love and my calling. My light reading is books like 'Design for Ecological Democracy' 'Gaia's Garden' and 'The One Straw Revolution' for the most part-- and I do love to read. In the chinks in my schedule I cook-- I love the challenges of cooking vegan or gluten-free, though I am neither of these.
I have a love/hate relationship with shows. I don't really have time to go to them, and can't really take time off work, but I make time to attend them to be around rat people and talk about rats-- then spend the next month running around trying to make up the work and money and vowing never to go again. Somehow I always do.
Apparently I like being bullied by people when I feel I can safeword out if necessary... this will come as no surprise to anyone.
I'm Erin (Greenstorm, not to be confused with Erin M) of Small Joys Rattery (JOY). I've been keeping rats for sometime between 6 and 8 years now, I think, and I've only been breeding for the last few of those. I really feel I'm more of an evil SITH apprentice than a real breeder because if it wasn't for Lizzy's constant support and the help of my boyfriend Angus I'd never be able to handle the nearly fifty that I have- it's quite a ride both emotionally and financially, not to mention timewise, but the longer I do this the more I am absolutely wedded to these great-grandbabies of mine.
I've had a couple of those ups and downs just recently: one of my absolutely favourite girls, Popcorn, and my dear Hades who is (finally) the descendant of the first two rats I got from Lizzy and thence from Uno have just had a litter. In addition to being very special personality-wise (it really is a pleasure and a privilege to share my life with these particular ratkids) I may have produced my first-- if not BEW, then my first almost entirely white rat with a debatable darkish smudge on the back but NO EARSPOT! I've been trying to do this basically since day one, and I know it happens to other people accidentally with dalmation lines, so I'm pretty chuffed. It doesn't hurt that the little girl is every bit as sweet as, well, nearly everyone from that line and licky as all get-out (except for the occasional explorabrat who reliably shows up). So that was an up.
The down was that I always breed two litters at once, and the second one produced only one baby-- and he was deformed and not mentally right. He didn't seem to be in pain, but his bones and legs didn't seem to be quite properly shaped, and he had a lot of trouble learning not to eat litter, not to get twisted and stuck in the bedding-- Angus rescued him any number of times. Trooper, as we called him, at least knew enough that when he was in a fix he could squeak loudly and if his mom couldn't fix it then we could. Angus works from home, so he could be around for that. But Trooper just wasn't destined to stay long, and after a month of devoted nursing he passed away quite recently.
Throughout this saga I've been putting in summer hours at work, and working a couple extra hours at a second job to pay tuition and put food in my mouth. Yesterday and the previous day, for instance, were 12 and 15 hour workdays respectively.
I spent most of my growing-up years on a hobby farm, and switched to rats as a more practical but still cuddly city pet when I moved to a series of apartments in Vancouver, Canada. I never have been interested enough in any other animal to commit to one as an adult, though I expect that one day the right dog will find me. I work as a very urban landscaper in the downtown core, and I am going back to school full-time this fall while carrying a three-day work week and keeping the rats and the boyfriend-- I'm terrified of the amount of work this will take, but I'm sure I'll get through it.
When I have time to daydream I picture myself as a market farmer or an ecosystem designer-- I'm very interested in agro/food systems and growing food in multi-use systems has always been my true love and my calling. My light reading is books like 'Design for Ecological Democracy' 'Gaia's Garden' and 'The One Straw Revolution' for the most part-- and I do love to read. In the chinks in my schedule I cook-- I love the challenges of cooking vegan or gluten-free, though I am neither of these.
I have a love/hate relationship with shows. I don't really have time to go to them, and can't really take time off work, but I make time to attend them to be around rat people and talk about rats-- then spend the next month running around trying to make up the work and money and vowing never to go again. Somehow I always do.
