Rat Stories
Someone here has a gf with pet rats - he's told her, you can't move in until the rats die. I'd agree with that, but I'd add, "You can't move in until all rats die." Because, frankly, the world doesn't need people who think keeping rats as pets is somehow acceptable. I mean, they're rats. It's like having a pet cancer tumour.
I've been lucky not to see too many rats in my life, but when I do, I react as I imagine cavemen might have reacted to wolves. My blood runs cold. I feel an urge to light a fire and hit something with a mammoth femur.
Years ago, down in Kent, a friend and I set off for a country pub for a long session, arriving a little before opening time. Older readers might remember that pubs didn't used to be open all day, and in fact might not open till something like 6 or 7 pm, especially on a Sunday.
So we went for a walk down the lane, 10 minutes to kill, and we came to a field that had been used to grow potatoes. But something had gone wrong, the field was waterlogged or something, so the farmer had ploughed the spuds up and left them in pyramid-shaped piles around the field. So we walked into this field to take a look (I dunno, maybe wanted to see what was wrong with the taters), but as we approached the first pile, a fucking HUGE rat bounded away. And then another, and another. We were in the middle of the field now, and as we turned round through 360°, we had one of those Brian DePalma moments. There were freaking HUNDREDS of massive rats running away from all the piles of potatoes. And I know people always say they were the "size of a cat," but these were. Really. Maybe an effect of the twilight, but, they did indeed appear to be the size of cats.
Years after this, I was briefly in Illinois one summer, and it was a summer as wet as the one we've just had. During one downpour, I saw through the screen door what looked like a rat running across the road outside and my blood turned cold all over again. Turned out to be a squirrel with a wet tail. Which is why squirrels should be red - grey ones are a crime against nature.
I've been lucky not to see too many rats in my life, but when I do, I react as I imagine cavemen might have reacted to wolves. My blood runs cold. I feel an urge to light a fire and hit something with a mammoth femur.
Years ago, down in Kent, a friend and I set off for a country pub for a long session, arriving a little before opening time. Older readers might remember that pubs didn't used to be open all day, and in fact might not open till something like 6 or 7 pm, especially on a Sunday.
So we went for a walk down the lane, 10 minutes to kill, and we came to a field that had been used to grow potatoes. But something had gone wrong, the field was waterlogged or something, so the farmer had ploughed the spuds up and left them in pyramid-shaped piles around the field. So we walked into this field to take a look (I dunno, maybe wanted to see what was wrong with the taters), but as we approached the first pile, a fucking HUGE rat bounded away. And then another, and another. We were in the middle of the field now, and as we turned round through 360°, we had one of those Brian DePalma moments. There were freaking HUNDREDS of massive rats running away from all the piles of potatoes. And I know people always say they were the "size of a cat," but these were. Really. Maybe an effect of the twilight, but, they did indeed appear to be the size of cats.
Years after this, I was briefly in Illinois one summer, and it was a summer as wet as the one we've just had. During one downpour, I saw through the screen door what looked like a rat running across the road outside and my blood turned cold all over again. Turned out to be a squirrel with a wet tail. Which is why squirrels should be red - grey ones are a crime against nature.
posted by Anonymous at
Friday, September 17, 2004
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