Year of the Rat

Did you know that this year is the year of the Rat?!   

I am not too excited about it.  Honestly, I don't know much about Chinese zodiac, so maybe it is not a bad thing after all, but I hate rats.  The thought of a rat as the mascot of 2008 kind of creeps me out.

On a related note, I saw the movie Ratatouille last week for the first time.  It was a cute story teaching nice values, but the rat animation was so realistic that I had to look away (like when you watch a really scary movie and you turn away for the grossest parts).  The little rats running around the kitchen looked and moved just like the real things, kind of jumping, zig-zagging, scampering and hiding as they go.  (Ugh.  I just got goosebumps... the creepy kind.) 

Yes, I had to look away from a cartoon.

I have had some bad (understatement) experiences with big urban rodents.  There was that time when a rat ate our leftover Thanksgiving pumpkin pie... and a loaf of bread.  That was bad.  And then there was that time when a rat jumped up on Andy's leg while he was on the couch.  (Again, goosebumps.)  Oh yes, and the time a rat took a bite from every peach in a case.  Just one bite from each fruit.  Same thing again with tomatoes. 

But the ultimate rat experience happened when I was eight and a half months pregnant with Ruby.  I was in our kitchen preparing Alli's lunch around 11:30am when I heard a loud "SNAP!"  I didn't realize what it was until I was cleaning lunch up and I opened the cupboard under the sink only to discover a huge dirty rat in the trap (we kept a trap set in the locked cupboard under the sink just in case).  And it was still alive.  And it was bleeding everywhere and making quite a mess.

Andy was out of town.  Of course.  I called him, panicking, sort of laughing and crying and definitely freaking way out.  He didn't answer the first few calls, so I left hysteric messages.  He called back and I lost it and wept into the phone.  Unfortunately there was nothing he could do from New York.

I did not want to be home with an injured rat lurking in my kitchen.  So I took Alli and we went to my friend Alison's house.  And we stayed there all day.

Alison's neighbors had some workers and I offered $30 to two guys to come to my house and "take care of the rat."  When I went back home with them, the rat was still alive (and this was like six hours after it first set off the trap).  Those two guys removed the rat, took care of it, and cleaned up the huge blood/poop/etc mess it had made under my sink.  It was worth every penny.

We have been rat free for over eighteen months now (I am knocking on wood).  We have fortified our house.  Behind and under our kitchen cabinets there is metal plating on the wall and floor.  Every gap and crack exposing the crawl space has been sealed permanently.

But I still have bad, bad dreams about rats.  I shudder when I see tame ones in the cages at Petco.  I do not find rat animation very fun.

I think I am permanently scarred.