Rats!

The first peculiar thing was finding one of my favorite socks, a little Smartwool sock, stuffed between that bathroom pipe and the window, about four or five feet up from the floor. How the hell did it get there? Can't see the sock in this photo, but you can imagine that this pipe is not a place that even the most absentminded of us might leave a sock.

 

My suspicions were loosely confirmed a morning or two later when I saw something scurrying along the window sill. But just what was it? A small rat? A big mouse? It almost flew--in fact, when I first saw it I thought it was a bird. I'm not sure which one of us was more startled. Next day a critter (same one?) almost made eye contact with me before flying off the edge of the ledge separating my little study from the kitchen. I'm guessing that the fella likes apples and peanuts, given the clutter left in two little porcelain bowls. When I told Mrs. Niu about my visitor, she immediately brought me some traps, the sticky-glue type. I had no idea if they had D-Con or anything else in the little cups in the center of the sticky traps. With a squinched up face, I opened one of them.

Well, the next morning I stopped on my way to the hot water pot. Poor little fella! There was somebody about five inches long (not counting the tail) on the stick-em, determined to get away but stuck. What a cruel, slow death he was facing.  I just couldn't stand knowing that little fellow was struggling on a glue pad, and I finally just put the wok over the whole thing so I didn't have to see it. What a coward, eh? 

My pity was pretty shallow—given that I think nothing of the fate of most rodents when they're not dying on my kitchen counter, and given that what I really wanted was a cup of coffee and couldn't quite get to my coffee pot. Believe me, I have no fans among rats, since once upon a time I was the executioner for hundreds of soft, fat little vitamin D deficient rats, all of whom were sacrificed in the name of medical research.

Shallow though my pity was, I did have some, and I found myself marveling at whatever life force was still in that little kicker, desperately trying to save his life. I found myself thinking of my father, who was no vegetarian but was, well,  an unusual gardener. He had a little non-lethal trap, and he'd take his never-ending supply of prisoners up to the top of the hill and let them out. My father was a pretty smart man—a chemical engineer who knew what the odds were of those prisoners running right back down the hill. He knew. But he didn't have the heart to kill them.

Meanwhile, I'm guessing my visitors are Sichuan Jumping Mice, and I found myself reading a bit about these sweet little forest dwellers (although I haven't seen the belly of one of these fellows to see if the telltale Y marks are there). I'm still not sure if my they're rats or mice, because I have also spotted some rat photos that look just like my uninvited roommates. So, my day turned to night, and before going to bed I looked at the wok hiding one now-quiet little critter's body. My dreams were laced with thoughts about cruelty to animals. I thought more about being an all out vegetarian instead of an almost vegetarian. (My vegetarian-leanings have more to do with energy management and resources than with killing animals, but still I'm no fan of concentrated animal feeding operations--CAFOs--and such things.)

In the morning, I summoned the courage to lift the wok and just take care of business. There the little guy was, still as anything and covered with scraps of paper and cardboard from the rat trap. I turned away for a second, putting the wok in the sink. I was just reaching for materials to bag the rest of it when I looked again.

Gone!

Rats! I already confessed that my pity was rather shallow. Now, I'll have to confess that I'm a little bit fickle, too. What now?  I looked with mixed feelings at the other trap, still empty. Just exactly what did I want? 

I wasn't sure. I thought about just getting rid of the damned sticky trap but didn't--I was in a hurry to meet Haixia. A few hours later I found myself back in my apartment, and I can't say exactly what I felt when I saw the other trap with some quarry. Was this the original fighter, the one who had gotten away?

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