Thursday, August 10, 2000

 

4:16 p.m. Yesiree, bub. I'm writing in the daytime. I've got to keep watch out of the corner of my eye for any sudden scurrying. Creepy. I've got my feet up on the chair, too. Believe you me. I'm traumatized.

There's really nothing quite like a big 'ole rat come flying through your window in the middle of the night to give you a sense of perspective. So I thought I'd write today, in the bright light, you know. Sort of find something else to do once it gets dark?

Well, I tell you. He came scuttling in at the spot on the top photo marked with an "X". The window was slightly open at the time, and all I can figure is that he was balancing on the sill, probably with a bit of grass in one hand and juicy bug in the other, and maybe he was gesticulating to his friend when ...

I'm sitting right at my desk. That's where I was when he came splatting in and that's where I sat when I took these pictures just a few minutes ago. I'm here ... and he's there. It's only inches, I tell you. Inches.

So, then he falls down off the nonexistent windowsill, of course, and he lands smack and crunch into the pile of oversized padded envelopes that are conveniently still wrapped in plastic (the second "X"). I love how you freeze when you hear a bunch of loud, odd sounds in the dark on the other side of your room ... and then you sort of crawl up your own backbone to try to get smaller and get away.

Then he hit the floor. And took off along the pathway marked by the red arrow, with that yick long pointed tell-tail stretched all the way out for emphasis ... and that's the last I saw or heard of him. So far, no signs. If you know what I mean. I left the doors to the outside ajar and the door to the bedroom closed.

Maybe he's gone for good. Maybe he's waiting until night to come out and forage. Maybe he's a she and she's in labor.

8:46 p.m. Ok. Life intervened and now it's dark. I'm in here, but I'm not happy about it. Typing, but listening. If one single creature starts stirring, I'm outta here. No nap today, either, so I'm tired enough to call it quits for the evening very early.

Now I know there are all kinds of pathways into and out of this house and I hope he's found one of them by now. I hope he's back with his family and friends. I'm wearing slippers in the meantime, and I'm clapping my hands and ...

... what was that?

...

...

11:43 p.m. Sort of lost my train of thought there. Maybe I should get a picture of Gervis and tape it to the side of the file cabinet. Mmmm. Rats are good eatin'. It would be so cool if they can get Gervis to do a Taco Bell or Jack in the Box commercial, wouldn't it? The ad copy practically writes itself ... "When I get a hankering for some good old-fashioned rat, I know where to go."

12:26 a.m. Well, it's past midnight and there's been no sign of him. I'm going to leave my post and claim victory for the night. Maybe I'll make a sound loop of a cat mee-owing and let it play through the night. Any rat stupid enough to fall through a window might be stupid enough to flee from an electronic cat.

I'm still closing my bedroom door, however.