I am trying to catch a rat.
A rat that has moved into the stone wall along the patio. With its family.
This is what happens when the dog dies.
This is what happens when the cat goes senile and deaf.
This is what happens when I ask the hawks and owls to stop harrassing the songbirds.
The rats move in.
After all, this is critter country, out-in-the-country country.
After all we’ve been restoring wildlife habitat. Here come the wild lives.
Somehow Nature’s not getting our message—birds welcome, no rats allowed.
Call me anti-ratty. Call me bratty. But It is a reasonable plan. I am a reasonable person.
Catch the rat. In a 'hav-a-heart' trap. Haul it down the hill. That's that.
I'm a right fine rat catcher with my hav-a-heart trap and lavish amounts of sunflower butter topped with fontina.
How could it resist a ratty feast? A royal ratty feast?
C'mon, Rat, what could be better than that?
C'mon, Rat, put on your cheesy party hat
and step right in.
But it is a smart rat, a very smart rat. A very very very smart rat. Imagine that.
It won't go in the trap. It circles and sniffs, sniffs and circles. Puts a nose in.
As the door snaps shut. And that's that.