Here Lies Theo
Here lies Theo, the rat.
Last week we had quite a lot of rain. When it was time to take the trash out, (early in the morning, me-dressed in a suit for work), the big trash can out back was full of water. I heaved and I pushed, trying not to get my pants dirty, and finally...WHOOOOSH. Out poured 30 gallons of water, two empty, soggy concrete bags, and a one jumbo sized, water-logged rat.
I looked at the giant beast for a moment, contemplating how interesting it was that my fears of having a rat jump out of the trash at me are now validated. I also noticed how pretty he looked for a rodent--this guy had soft-looking grey back fur, and pure-white underbelly fur...obviously he'd had quite a long bath. I kept my distance for I was sure he would dry out, shake it off and jump at me all the same.
I left the darn thing there, poured out onto the soggy concrete bags in our yard, knowing I was more or less leaving it for Mark to deal with when he woke up and headed off to school. I figured I'd clean it up when I got back if it was still there and still looked dead.
As I was driving to work, I started to think about how long the rain had been coming down. I wondered at what point the rat found his way into our trash can. I imagined the poor thing treading water for hours as the water level rose slowly (Titanic-style), until he finally fell exhausted and drowned. Poor thing, after all, his under-belly fur looked so nice and white.
When I got home the rat was still there, still dead-looking.
Mark had imagined some incident with the rat in which the rat was originally alive when I encountered it, and I had had to kill it. I laughed, imagining myself swinging the longest shovel possible clumsily at the rat, trying to beat it to death from 10 feet away. No, no. Thank god that thing was dead when I found it.
In the end, we both somehow got mildly attached to this rat over the course of the day. Mark announced that he had named the rat, Theo, and that he was going to bury him. So bury him we did. But actual words?...we decided we would reserve saying words over the deceased for something more important, like next time if it were a squirrel.
Last week we had quite a lot of rain. When it was time to take the trash out, (early in the morning, me-dressed in a suit for work), the big trash can out back was full of water. I heaved and I pushed, trying not to get my pants dirty, and finally...WHOOOOSH. Out poured 30 gallons of water, two empty, soggy concrete bags, and a one jumbo sized, water-logged rat.
I looked at the giant beast for a moment, contemplating how interesting it was that my fears of having a rat jump out of the trash at me are now validated. I also noticed how pretty he looked for a rodent--this guy had soft-looking grey back fur, and pure-white underbelly fur...obviously he'd had quite a long bath. I kept my distance for I was sure he would dry out, shake it off and jump at me all the same.
I left the darn thing there, poured out onto the soggy concrete bags in our yard, knowing I was more or less leaving it for Mark to deal with when he woke up and headed off to school. I figured I'd clean it up when I got back if it was still there and still looked dead.
As I was driving to work, I started to think about how long the rain had been coming down. I wondered at what point the rat found his way into our trash can. I imagined the poor thing treading water for hours as the water level rose slowly (Titanic-style), until he finally fell exhausted and drowned. Poor thing, after all, his under-belly fur looked so nice and white.
When I got home the rat was still there, still dead-looking.
Mark had imagined some incident with the rat in which the rat was originally alive when I encountered it, and I had had to kill it. I laughed, imagining myself swinging the longest shovel possible clumsily at the rat, trying to beat it to death from 10 feet away. No, no. Thank god that thing was dead when I found it.
In the end, we both somehow got mildly attached to this rat over the course of the day. Mark announced that he had named the rat, Theo, and that he was going to bury him. So bury him we did. But actual words?...we decided we would reserve saying words over the deceased for something more important, like next time if it were a squirrel.
posted by anne | 7:10 AM
3 Comments:
poor Theo... i loved reading that Anne :-)
Me too! This cracked me up, but I also completely understood.
I think that your posting is "word" enough for poor Theo. Probably the best rat eulogy I've ever read (this from someone who loves (pet) rats).
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