The Rat

A coupe day ago, I went to get in the car and espied a wad of paper I’d tossed on the passengers’ seat.  It was all chewed up – shreds and pieces all over the place.  I had a rodent in my car.  I had not a single clue as to how it got in, but I fervently hoped it had gotten back out.

No such luck.  The next day, I spotted little crumbs of foam rubber under the driver’s seat, along with some small “raisins” .  The little S.O.B. was still with me.  Should I fumigate?   Nah, the car would stink for ages.  It’d probably make the wife unit and me sick as dogs.  Now I could lock Sweetpea, my cat, in the car overnight; she kills anything she sees — even tried to kill the neighbor’s Shih-Tzu.  The little mop ran into it’s doggie door and that ended the chase.  Sweetpea  paced back and forth, looking in the doggie door while Shis-Tzu quaked with fear and pissed on the floor (you know how little dogs are).  I decided against that course of action as Sweetpea could get tangled in the wires under the seat.

The next morning I saw a hole had been chewed in the seat cushion.  Damn!  Rodents will chew through anything, including the insulation on wires.  The miserable, flea-ridden creature could cripple my car just so he could sharpen his teeth.  Bastard!  Well, perhaps he ate the foam rubber and it clogged his guts and he died.

I bought a Victory mouse trap and set it on the floor of the backseat, just to the rear of the pile of chewings.  I put down the window, closed the door and went out to muck in the flower bed.  It wasn’t but ten minutes and I heard a snap.  Ah HA, I got the sucker.  Anticipating my kill, I opened the car door, prepared to dump the little carcass into the compost heap.  But there was no mouse in the trap.  Instead, there was a rat, standing on his hind legs and squeaking his indignation at me.

I have no idea how he got into the car, much less avoided the trap, but avoid it he had.  “You little piece of crap!” I yelled.  With that, he scuttled back under the car seat.  What to do, what to do.

Ah, a rat trap baited with foul smelling cheese might do the trick.  That night I smeared some Gorgonzola on the trigger, left the rear car door open and placed the trap on the floor.  The next morning the cheese was gone and the trap not sprung.  I was really tempted to go get Sweetpea, but she’d just get fleas and tapeworms from the damned thing, for she always ate her kill.

Fortunately, the rat left my car so I made sure the Toyota always had the windows up.  And for good measure, left a baited rat trap nearby.

The next morning I came into the garage and there it was the rat; large, corpulent, and insolent as hell.  If the rat could have given me the finger, it would have.  I picked up a  hunk from the wood pile and threw it at the rat.  Missed.  The rat looked at me, squeaked and headed for a small gap under the overhead door.  With another piece of wood in my hand, I ran out the side door hoping to intercept the horrid little creature.  But of course I couldn’t.  Before I could close on it, it ran beneath the woodshed.

I ran in the house and fetched my old pellet pistol.  Back out by the woodshed, I knelt an peered in among the footings.  And sure enough, there he was.; two beady eyes peering back.  “Got you, you little shit” I hissed as I pulled the pistol from my belt.  Evidently, the rat had never gotten wise to pellet guns, for he just kept looking at me with nonchalance.

I aimed at a spot between the beady eyes, and with a steady slow pull of the trigger, let a pellet fly.  The two eyes disappeared in a spray of blood and brains, and that was that.  Of course there was a bit of a smell for a few days.

Having had this experience once, I make sure a rat trap is always in the garage, loaded and cocked.


One Response to The Rat

  1. Steve Sparks says:

    I hate rats! Did you feel guilty?


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