Maxwell vs. The Rat

On our third night in the new house things were going well. We were unpacking boxes and starting to feel like we were at home. It was getting dark outside and I opened the back door to call the dogs in for a little sofa time. As I called to them I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked down and it took a couple of seconds for me to realize there was a big fat rat skittering across our patio. It took me another couple of seconds to realize that Maxwell had seen it too.

Maxwell is one of my four dogs and he is my favorite. It didn’t start out that way. We already had two dogs when MOH (My Other Half) came home from golf one day with this scrawny little black puppy. I did not like him. He was destructive and a pain in the ass. His first morning at the house he jumped up at me and grabbed hold of the knee of my black velvet lounging pants (don’t judge me) and ripped them. He would escape the kitchen and eat my shoes and magazines. I was seriously trying to figure out how we were going to get rid of him. Then it happened. I sat down on the kitchen floor with him one day and he crawled into my lap and fell asleep - I fell in love.

Maxwell still has his moments. He has grown into a beautiful 47-pound lap dog. He enjoys counter-surfing and has helped himself to raw meatballs and frozen meals that were waiting to go in the oven. He’ll destroy a book or magazine if I leave them outside on a table. He sits on top of my car; I have no idea how he even decided that was possible. He drank the oil out of the turkey fryer this Thanksgiving and spent half the day throwing up. But he will cuddle on the couch with me for hours at a time and has the sweetest temperament.

Anyway, Maxwell saw the rat at the same time I did – and pounced. Suddenly he was running across the yard with that fat rat body hanging out of his mouth. The other three quickly followed. I yelled for MOH to help me get the dogs into the house without the rat. He did and as they were anxiously trotting around the living room trying to settle down I noticed that there was blood on the floor, quite a bit. MOH and I started grabbing dogs to find out who was bleeding and from where. It was Maxwell. Blood was pouring from his nose courtesy of a rat bite.

I grabbed paper towels and Maxwell sat next to me and let me hold them against his nose. I sent MOH outside with instructions to dispose of the rat. He took a shovel, found the rat, and tossed it over the fence. He said it was still alive, but barely. Ugh. At our last house, our dogs loved to catch lizards. One of our females, Skipper, would sleep with their little dead bodies in her crate until I could get them away from her. We’re a little more out in the country now and it never occurred to me that my dogs would find bigger and better prey. I have visions of letting them in one night and not paying close enough attention. If I find a dead ANYTHING on my sofa . . . anyway, I hope Maxwell learned his lesson, but I doubt it. I’m sure he was extremely proud of his catch, bloody nose be damned!