Whenever I get down to a single critter, I make them a small bolster, about the size and shape of a rat, so they have something to cuddle with. It's usually out of old terrycloth or scrap fleece, and stuffed with a bit of the bedding their late buddy was sleeping on, so it smells right.

What usually happens is the rat drags their stuffed friend into their house, and nests with it. I spend a few weeks fishing it out of the old nest box and giving it back whenever I dump the cage, until it gets too disgusting for words, at which point I pitch it and make them a new one.

I made a bolster for Yuki in the usual fashion, out of a dollar-store towel. I scooted it into the cage next to her and nudged her with the nose, so she'd get the idea that it was soft and cuddlable.

She promptly whipped around and sank her teeth into its neck.

I left it in the cage in case she changed her mind. She's bulldozed it into the far corner with her hard, hard little head, and is ignoring it as hard as humanly ratly possible.

Apparently, Yuki has been dreaming of being an only rat for quite some time now, and does not want any goddamn pillows in her house fucking this up. She is lurking fatly in a bed of shredded newspaper, her food bowl and the water bottle within easy reach, and she doesn't have to share with anyone. It has been decided that I am allowed to pet her now, as long as I'm not dumb enough to stick my fingers directly in front of her pointy little face, and she was even chittering at a good solid ear scratch the other day.

Well, at least I don't have to worry about this one pining away.