When I went to the clothesline to put out the washing this morning, there was a dead rat underneath it. This is the first time I’ve seen a rat at this house. Maybe our ancient kitty (may he rest in peace) used to keep them under control without letting me know, and now the little rodents are having a great time in this verdant spring.
Anyway, I called our tabby cat over to see if she was interested in the rat. No way. She simply demanded scritches and head butted me, completely ignoring the dead rat. I decided I’d pull on some disposable gloves, wrap up the rat in some newspaper and put it in the bin. (It’s bin night tomorrow night.)
Oh oh. I hadn’t counted on DD. She saw the rat and was very interested. She announced, “Mummy, you can’t put the rat in paper and into the bin.”
I asked her why not. She said “Rats aren’t things for putting in bins. Even if they’re dead.”
Upon being asked what she thought I should do with the rat, she said “Leave it there.”
We then had a bit of a talk about how animals don’t stay the same after they die, there is decay and there were already a few ants rustling around the rat’s body. DD didn’t look convinced.
After she went inside, I quickly put the rat in the bin and hoped she’d forget during the day.
No such thing. As soon as we came home late this afternoon after her swimming lesson, DD announced “Where’s the rat? I hope you didn’t move it.” Yikes. I said it had to go away and wasn’t allowed to stay under the clothe