At the bottom of page 51, you'll see how it's done. Now, some of you will choose to ignore this protocol in favor of your own methods. When you do this (and it's inevitable that at least one of you will try), you will regret it immediately. But your bloody mess will be an invaluable demonstration for the rest of us, illustrating in a most graphic manner the need for proper technique. So, it won't be a total loss, and in your misery you'll be able to take solace in that.

Now... What you need to understand is that prior to 1961, there was no "right" way to hold your rat. No established protocol. In 1947, I began my tenure at the Mösknvorr research laboratory, which has since been converted to a facility for women of dubious capacity. And with no standard by which to handle our animals, we were left to our own devices, which engendered a plethora of shameful incidents. So, you see, there were plenty of "wrong" ways to hold your rat. Some of these even involved electricity, my God... I recollect one fellow... Well, the family is still in litigation, so I suppose I shouldn't talk about it. Suffice to say, the stench was disgusting.

Anyway, from the beginning, I had an affinity for the Huefaüssen Brown Rat, a notably petulant variety -- particularly the long-snouted albino mutants. Their eyes... Those little red eyes of theirs... They actually emit a dim luminescence, probably harmful in large doses. So that nefarious glow is not simply refraction -- not in the Huefaüssen albinos. Their gaze is an offensive gesture. Now, I mentioned their petulant disposition. Did you know that the word "rodent" is derived from a Latin word meaning "to gnaw"? Well, you can imagine the unsightly calluses that developed on my palms over the years. To this day, I still carry the scars. You see? And then, of course, there's the issue of discharge. Caustic.

Well anyway, by 1959, I had perfected my grasp, but the scientific community turned a cold shoulder. Understand, at that time, few researchers even acknowledged their problem publicly. Finally, in 1961, I presented my method to the general assembly in Geneva, where I was the keynote speaker. I carried with me to the podium a mesamorph Dynaliteralyphlis Sorta Rodentia. I've forgotten the specific variety, but it was a large black rat. "Gentlemen," I announced -- since (for obvious reason) there have never been women of any kind seated in the assembly. "Gentlemen... Observe." And I held up my rat for all to see. As you might imagine, a distinctly awkward silence ensured, but they quickly sensed the situation and erupted into a shower of frenzied applause. My grip was so popular that they honored me with a standing ovation (one of only three in the order's deferred history).

Yes, indeed, it made quite a stir. A remarkable sensation, with deep ramifications. To this day, the way in which I grasped my animal remains diagrammed in textbooks, as you can see at the bottom of page 51. If you look closely, you can see all the important details, and espousing this as an object lesson might help you avoid unsightly calluses of your own.