And then there were two

This is your warning. If you are easily grossed out, just stop reading now. Go to another post about cute, fuzzy kittens or something else. While I am sitting at my dining room table, basking in the sun and eating breakfast as I type this, it just attests to my mental instability.

You have been warned.

A couple of days ago, one of the complexes that Perl and I pass during our daily walk had their ivy mowed down. This is done every couple of years because it grows into these dense, snarly groves of layers of new ivy growth. And what lives in these mini thickets? Rats. Lots of big, ugly, plague carrying rats.

All would be well and good if the rats had all read their eviction notices and fled the premises before the destruction crews arrived. But some thought they could wait out the impending storm. Some mistakenly believed that no harm would ever come to them and they would be miraculously saved without any use of common sense on their own part. Or they are deaf and don’t hear the demolition crew.

A few days ago, Perl and I encountered our first victim. A large rat with a dime-sized hole into its abdomen where its tail was once attached. It had managed to escape to the sidewalk before succumbing to its demise. And that is where I found it when I looked down at a super-sized, black leaf. Perl immediately grabbed the stiff corpse as if it were a new toy. So now it has moved around the sidewalk a few times as I try to ignore it and she tries to take it home and I yell at her to leave it.

Today being Sunday, Perl and I took our slightly extended walk. As we crossed the street, I saw another over-sized, black leaf and let out another squeal as my brain registered the body of a decapitated rat. Well, mostly decapitated. I can only imagine it had gotten caught in the lawnmower, or another dog had relocated it to the street before their owner noticed because I doubt the headless rat could have walked that far from the ivy.

I don’t want to think about dead rats anymore. I don’t want to avert my eyes as I get close to those points in our walk. I don’t want to walk in the grass around them where I might stumble upon another. And I don’t want to find myself looking in the mowed down ivy for signs of a massacre.

But the worst part about it is knowing that my complex will soon be mowing down the ivy. I should probably post the eviction notices soon. Does anyone out there know how to speak rat?


3 responses to this post.

  1. I searched for cute, fuzzy kittens in your blog, and all I found were skunks!


  2. The secret to rat control is cats. If there are cats around, you won’t have rats, or mice, or voals, or wild gerbils, etc, around. Even in Montana, prairie dogs (members of the rodent family) who are the same size as some cats, don’t stand a chance. Cats might annoy some, but they’re pretty handy at keeping the rodents at bay.


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