I stayed up very late again last night. It’s not unusual for me. About 2:30 this morning, roughly, I headed to bed.
Steve was already asleep, so the light in our bedroom was off. But when he goes to bed before me, he leaves our bathroom light on and just pushes the louvered bathroom doors almost shut, to keep the light out of his eyes.
It’s a good thing the light was on. When I walked into the bathroom, I noticed something moving in the tub. Upon closer inspection, it was a rat. Not a baby rat, and certainly not full-grown. It was probably a teenaged rat. We’ve had a rat problem off and on for years, since we have always lived next to an open field. But a company is expanding fast into that field, building storage for different kinds of tanks (Adler Tank Rentals). So where else are the field rats supposed to go, except right toward our house?
There is a hole in our bathroom ceiling because of a remodeling job we started. And I noticed yesterday that one of our cats, Midnight, was sitting on the counter looking up into that hole. It did cross my mind then that there could be a rat up there, but I really kind of thought the rat might just stay up in the ceiling, seeing as how they don’t care much for being in a big open space with 2 cats, as would be the case if it came down into the bathroom. So my guess is that Midnight got up there and got the rat herself.
It really was kind of a cute little rat. And no…it’s not a mouse…it was a small rat. Its fur was wet, and there was no water in the bottom of the tub, so I’m sure it had been in a cat’s mouth. It was sitting there, washing its little face with its front paws….with the two cats also sitting in the tub. It actually looked like they were just visiting, and the cats had no intention of harming it.
But, of course, I did not want a rat of any size running loose in the house. And since our lazy cats chose to let it sit there and live, I had to do something about it. *sigh* We put out rat bait all the time, and I don’t mind the idea of the rats quietly eating the bait somewhere inside the walls of the house, and dying, where I don’t have to watch. But I don’t want to have to actually kill it myself.
So I threw a hand towel over it and picked it up. It squealed and squirmed, and I had to stop to get a better grip on it. I did not want to grab it by the tail because I didn’t want to risk getting bitten. I grabbed it again, and this time it was good and solid. I went to the back door and tossed it out in the yard. But I threw it hard, and it hit a flower pot sitting along the back fence. I heard it go thunk. I have not yet been out to see if it’s still in that spot, or if it was only dazed, and ran away later.
Stupid cats. They could have saved me all that trouble.