Four Words for Why I Was Late for Work this Morning

Rat in my toilet.

I woke up early today so that I could get some chores done, enjoy the morning sun and arrive to work on time.  I was happily cleaning up and was in the process of attending to my kitties’ litter.  The type that I use (a natural pine litter which I, by the way, highly recommend) is flushable.  I had flushed one load down my toilet and was coming back with the next and last.  I turned the corner, flushables in hand.

Holy shit.  There is a rat in my toilet.  A baby rat.  A foot long, including tail.  He is covered in pine pieces and standing in water and staying very still.

I thought for a split second on what to do.  I think to myself that because he is small, I can pick him up and carry him outside.  I’ve obviously never handled a wild rat before.  I have no work or gardening gloves so I grab a pair of thick winter gloves.  I go in for the rat rescue, bathroom door closed for the little rodent’s protection against my curious cats.

He is not happy.  As my hands go in to scoop him up, he wants nothing more than to climb up the side of the bowl, which is impossible due to his small size.  He is squeaking pitifully and somewhat furiously.  He attempts biting me and I feel his little teeth graze my finger through the acrylic yarn.

Alright, I don’t want a rat bite.  I am unsure of  what to do next.  I close the lid of the toilet and contemplate running to Canadian Tire for work gloves and a box.  Realizing how impractical leaving a rat in my toilet for half an hour would be, I remember the important fashion rule of layering and grab a few more pairs of gloves.  I put on my rubber boots (logic: if he get on the floor and tries to bite my ankles then he will be thwarted) and I find a large stainless steel pot with a lid.

It’s as simple as that.  Hands in to get him, drop him in the pot.  Cover on the pot and I am out the door.

Except that I just want to let him go as soon as possible and I don’t think it through very well.  The smart thing would have been to let him out in a shady area far away from my door.  Instead, I open up the pot in full daylight not two feet away from the stairs leading down to my apartment entrance.  After much coaxing, he emerges and runs down the stairs to bury himself in the leaves that had blown in by my door.

So, if you come to visit, be wary that a rat lives outside my door now and that something in my kitchen has contained a rat.  Oh, and I’d be careful about using my toilet too.

See further proof on my tumblr