Some good radio stuff — A DJ in Mobile, Alabama quit on the air with the immortal line, “I quit this bitch.” which is the best way to quit a gig. Her name is Inetta the Mood Setta. Listen to the air check, read the transcript, and then listen to the thoughtful interview. Then buy a T-shirt?!?
G.G. the Cat brought yet another rat into the house yesterday. I was happily reading the New York Times on the computer when D. ran in completely freaked out. From her worried look I thought maybe she cut herself with a knife or one of the kids was on the roof and fell off, but it was far worse than that. It was a Rat In The House. It’s weird how rats just sit there when a cat is near them. The other live rat that G.G. the Cat brought in our house (at 1:00am or so) was the same way. They seemed almost bored. I think the strategy here is to not move in hopes that the cat will get bored and walk away. This is good strategy because most cats are dumb. But there’s a big flaw: cats can smell a bleeding rat that is five feet away. So even if G.G. the Cat forgets what’s going on — which is entirely possible — she’ll eventually smell the rat and think, “What’s that smell? So bewitching… Oh yeah, I was goring a rat to death. I almost forgot.”
This strategy is somewhat effective this time. But it was a Pyrrhic victory because by the time G.G. the Cat walked away to get some water the rat was too damaged to move. It was clearly breathing, though. I wanted to toss a brick on it through an open window from the safety our kitchen. This was quickly vetoed. D. finished the job by putting on rubber kitchen gloves, filling a bucket with water, setting it down near the rat, and using barbeque tongs from our grill to pick it up and hold it under water. Then she got freaked out and made me hold the tongs. Once I was satisfied that it was dead, I put it in a bag along with the gloves and threw it away. Then I threw away the barbeque tongs and dumped the bucket and filled it with soapy water. Man, I hate rats. It was very traumatic. I’m sure that the kids are emotionally scared from seeing their parents become complete ninnies.
Epilogue: Later that day D. was driving to the store. When the air conditioner came on and blew on her legs she screamed.
0 responses so far ↓
1 meowkat // Aug 21, 2006 at 10:51 pm
you should do what i do with half dead animals — put them in a plastic bag and smash them against a wall. you can usually manage to do it at least once. any more than that and i think you qualify as a sadist. baby bunny sobbing blood bubbles in the dirt — you’d put it out of its misery as fast as you could, too…
2 Poddy's mom // Aug 24, 2006 at 1:57 am
Oh dear oh dear, I so hate rats as well. I once lived for some months at an idyllic place in Francein an old rotten hut undermined by lively rats! We had mad dogs helping us hunt them away, and a lot of fuss. They were not just one but many. And boy I was scared.
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