A Rat Tale

Before we dive into this lovely 'tail', I need to set the scene.

Weeks before we moved to the country I had asked my Dad if I could keep chickens on the property.

His response was,'of course you can dear, you can do whatever you want. I'm just worried about the rats'. To which I responded, 'what rats?'  Did my Dad have pet rats I didn't know about? I don't think chickens are a feared enemy to rats, that I know of. My Dad informed me that he had it on good authority that where there are chickens there are rats.

This comment confused me,being the amateur 'homesteader' that I am (if I can even call myself that). I wasn't sure if you got the chickens handed to you with the rats in a separate box or they materialized out of nowhere when you brought the chickens home.

Which brings me to Sunday morning.  It was just another lazy morning. Kids were still in their jammies going about there business, building armies with every single toy they had. Anthony was folding laundry, I was attempting liquid eyeliner in the bathroom. I had mentioned to my Dad earlier that our cat Duster was chasing something around the night before and was now obsessively staring at the cupboard doors under the sink. In cat behavior that means there's a mouse.

Duster has gotten very good at catching mice since we moved here. He likes to play with them until there is no play left, in the mouse that is. He left us a little treat in our room a few weekends ago. Poor mouse.

I have gotten use to the idea of mice though. The house we live in is close to 90 years old and has a dirt floor basement, it would be weird if there weren't any mice...right?

Every few weeks my Dad sets traps and catches some here and there but since the weather has really cooled down they seem to be making it into the living space. I myself have a don't ask don't tell policy because if it were up to me I'd have those cute little guys named and fed regularly in a nice cozy cage.

But Sunday was different. My Dad took Dusters sign seriously and opened the cupboard doors, there was some shuffling about and I looked over from the bathroom and said 'oh, is there a mouse?'
'No, it's a rat' my Dad replied.

Just a little aside. If you know my family you would understand that I took that as a sarcastic comment. Because that is how my family communicates. Sarcasm is in our veins and there is nothing that can really be taken too seriously and there is always time for a smart ass comment.

I rolled my eyes (which I was making a mess out of with the liquid eyeliner) and didn't think anything of it until my Dad called Anthony over to help him. Anthony had asked what he had found and my Dad said 'well either it's a rat or the biggest mouse I've ever seen'.

I will spare you the details of how the situation was handled (if you know my Dad though, use your imagination) but it was a rat (shiver) a pretty big one (gah). We're not talking a New York City sewer rat or anything but it wasn't a pet store rat that's for darn sure!

After all was said and done, my Dad came back to the kitchen and said 'See, I told you. It's because of those chickens! I've never had rats before!'

In my defense, the chickens are 40 feet from the house and I still don't believe that it's their fault.

Anyway, that was our exciting Sunday morning. I hope your was better!