God damn it! I should have known this would happen after the whole “Maxwell vs. the Rat” incident (previous blog entry). MOH (My Other Half) is in Germany and it’s my first time on my own in the new house. I came in the yard to my usual frantic greeting from the four crazies who live here. I unlocked the house and opened the kitchen door for them so they could come in and out as the pleased.
I got out four pup-peronis for treats and only three of them came running. When I called for Skipper, who was behind me in the kitchen, to come get her treat she growled. I turned around and saw it. A big . . . dead . . . flaccid . . . bloody rat hanging from her mouth. EEEEEEEEEEEk! I shrieked. Really. Repeatedly like a little girl and ran for the outside thinking for sure she was going to jump up on me with it. (Insert full body shudder here.) Turns out I don’t handle the dead rodent situation with any grace. So I run screaming into the yard and all the dogs think this is some wonderful game! Let’s chase Mommy! And me yelling, "Get away! Get away!" Thank God I didn't see any neighbors outside.
Skipper ran out with her big bloody prize and dropped it on the patio. I managed to get her back in the house and shut her in. I went running around the house making this “eeeee eeeee eeeee” sound and found a broom and dust pan. I went back outside, still making that noise, and managed to push it into the dust pan. Then I stood there. I couldn’t put it in the outside trash because (a) the dogs might get it back out, and (b) I would at some point have to take that trash out. We have to drive our trash out to a dumpster outside of our parco and there is no way that bag was going in my car!
I decided I would fling it over the gate. Hah! I got out there and then was afraid I would screw it up and somehow fling it on top of me. I gave a wussy little toss and it landed right on the other side of the fence. We have wrought iron bars and the dogs would totally be able to reach it. I shoved the broom through the bars and pushed it out of dog reach. Gross. I mean just really GROSS. Shit always happens when MOH is out of town. Can’t wait to see what’s in store for me the rest of the week!
Am now enjoying celebratory "I disposed of the rat all by myself" glass of champagne.