The last rat just pulled my hand into the cage to get a piece of caramel corn. She didn’t take the offered piece of corn, she took my whole hand in–gently but firmly in the very sharp teeth–and sort of forced me to drop the caramel corn into the food dish. She didn’t want to wait for me to put it in the treat dish. The last rat’s name is This Rat Has No Name. Not because I wanted to call her trhhh, which sounds like a chemical compound, but because we just called her The Twin. She had no name. Late night touching rat anecdotes, part one.