Thursday, May 06, 2010

There is...

a rat in my room or at least there was last night. See, Wednesday I discovered a rat as it ran underneath my TV cabinet. Once I'd established it WAS a rat and not some giant mutant cockroach with whiskers (edit: a "cockamouse." Anyone else see that ep of How I Met Your Mother? "It can flyyy...!") I told mum and of course she said "Oh I saw Cleo [our rather demonic cat] playing with something last night. I was hoping it was just a grasshopper," or something along those lines. Gee. Thanks Mum.
See, as we all know, cats like to play with living things, tossing them around untill eventually their neck snaps or something and the cat either eats it or leaves it as a present on the kitchen floor. Or outside my mum's bedroom. But Cleo isn't the best of hunters and it managed to escape uninjured. Into our house.
Obviously when I discovered the rat I kept my bedroom door shut to avoid it getting in there and likely making a nest in the shambles of my floor/wardrobe/handbags/book shelf. But my lovely, cute, musician boyfriend who sadly often suffers from an undeniable lack of common sense, went to my room to dump his bag and get changed and LEFT THE DOOR OPEN. Unspeakable... of course, it was also my gorgeous, sexy, scruffy haired boyfriend who woke me up at 2:20am because the rat was in my room, and he'd been lying there, listening to it, petrified for about half an hour. He's also scared of balloons- heart of a lion he has, J.
So, needless to say I didn't sleep to much last night. I woke up again later to hear the rat trying to escape through the security screen of my window; climbing up my guitar, then frantically climbing up and down the screen before heading back down to the floor and rustling around in what I can only assume was my bin before repeating the pattern. I felt sorry for the poor thing. Attacked by a cat and now trying to escape, drawn to my window by the cold air that signified, to him (or her, let's not assume here people) freedom. But what could I do? If I tried to catch it to take it outside, it would have only run and hid. But after a moment of paranoia last night where I thought I could feel it climbing on me, I definitely DO NOT want it in my room. Plus I'm very worried it will end up dying of starvation in my room and I won't find it untill the smell leads me to its grave, most likely inside one of my shoes.
Either way, I now have to leave my bedroom door open in case it's still in there, which means if it isn't, I'm giving it the means to return.

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