Country Rats Have It Worse Than Their City Cousins
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There’s a storage bin in our backyard with lots of tools. I don’t open it much, unless I’m working on a project. A couple of weeks ago, the need arose to open it. That’s when I saw the rat. It’s not the first time I’ve seen one in the bin, but most times I see them around our garbage can (not many, just the occasional visitor). That’s when I get the poison out.
I hate to do it. I really do. I respect the whole circle of life thing. But Donna has a huge phobia about rodents. In fact, just this morning she was moaning in her sleep. I was sure it was due to rodents in her nightmares. But she told me the nightmare was about some man (not me) who had snuck into the house. Believe me when I tell you, she would rather have that dream a million times over rather than one about a rat sneaking into the house.
So, when I saw the rat in the outside storage bin, I had no choice. (“Sorry, dude. If you get anywhere near my house you’re going to give my wife a heart attack.”)
I placed the poison and forgot all about my furry visitor. A week passed before I was reminded of the rat again. How could I not be reminded of it? It was sitting right on top of the storage bid in broad daylight. (Not a good sign.)
I walked closer to it and took the photo above. The rat had a wound by its left ear and seemed to be totally doped up. I didn’t know what the wound was from, but I figured the rat probably didn’t know day from night because of something it had eaten, namely, my poison. I felt bad about what I perceived was its near demise. Then it opened its eyes, took note of me, and hopped into the bushes.
Hmm. Maybe it still had some pep in its step. Maybe it could still live a happy life far away from my house.
Alas, that was not to be. A few nights later, Donna captured some amazing video footage of an animal encounter in our front yard. During the night, our front yard is like Grand Central Station. We have seen every type of crawling mammal imaginable. But the video showed a much more common animal. It was a black cat, and it was playing with… Oh, man. Is that a rat?
The cat swatted it like it was playing table tennis. Then it picked it up in its mouth, and slam dunked it on my walkway. The torture went on and on. Donna and I couldn’t watch anymore.
Do I think it was the same rat I saw? Yeah. I couldn’t see the wound by its ear, but now the injury made sense. Cats probably beat rats up all the time. This cat could probably tell the rat had been poisoned, which was why it chose to bat the rat around instead of eating it. As far as rats go, it wasn’t as big as the NYC rats I’ve seen. Those guys are huge and arrogant from having their choice of fast-food items to eat. The country rat outside my house didn’t stand a chance.
But the cat did its job, the rat went to rat heaven, and Donna slept soundly. The circle of life remained intact.
#Disneyneedsanewmascot
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