I was doing some research on muscle building, and I saw the abstract of a study about a hormone called DHT and its effect on muscular growth. In particular, the study mentioned “postmenopausal rats.”
I laughed so hard at that.
I’ve owned rats, though the only female I had wasn’t with me long enough to attain menopause, not that I could detect a breeding cycle anyway. I think the domesticated ones make adorable, sweet, intelligent pets. My mind started playing with the idea, though.
So, what would a postmenopausal rat be like? Would she be a little slower, a little more wise? Would she know her way around all the traps? Would she know all the ways of cats? Would she have a really nice nest in the good part of the wall? Given rat breeding rates, would she bake cookies for her great-great-great-great grandpups?
It definitely was something to think about. A matronly rat with kind eyes, perhaps, because being kind really helps your longevity and you need to be an old rat indeed to outlive your breeding cycle. You’d definitely need to be wise to avoid all the dangers to rat-kind. Your collection of paper shreds would be impressive.
Then I thought of what the study was about and started laughing again. It was determining the effects of added DHT on muscle growth in postmenopausal rats. So that meant they weren’t just postmenopausal rats, they were DOPING postmenopausal rats. In effect, tiny bodybuilders. (All love to bodybuilders, by the way, and I know they don’t all take extra hormones.) So then the next image came to my strange mind – a tiny weight set, with an old lady rat grunting out reps and trying for a new PR.
I don’t need TV to entertain me. Really, I don’t.