You dirty Rat

When I lived in Brooklyn (on Euclid Ave.) our apartment had it's share of rodents and cockroaches. This was not unique to our apartment, it was a neighborhood thing. We just learned to live with it, because frankly what choice was there? Landlords certainly didn't care, and except for an occasional can of Raid, it was beyond anything we could do.

We learned never leave anything edible out. If it didn't come in a can or a jar, it went in the fridge. We washed everything before we used it, glasses, utensils, pots and pans, everything was washed. We even kept our toothbrushes inside a sealed tall jar. (they sometimes smelled funky from the jar but at least we knew there weren't any nasty bug germs on them.) If we even suspected a cockroach or mouse might have come close to something, we dipped it in boiling water, then washed it. Then washed it some more.

One night while lying in bed, I heard a strange rustling. I tried to ignore it, strange noises were nothing unusual in my neighborhood. It continued for a while so I reach up and turned on the light. I screamed as I made eye contact with the largest rat I had ever seen. The rat stood up on his hind legs and mocked me, then quick as a flash he was gone. My parents slept through the whole thing. The next morning they claimed to have "maybe" heard what could have been a scream but like I said strange noises were common place in my neighborhood, so they ignored it.

I told them I saw the largest rat ever, the size of a kitten, I swear, it was huge. They laughed said it was a mouse, said I was dreaming. WTF. It was a rat, a big ugly mocking rat. My encounter with the rat continued for several days. I set up little meeting places, knowing he would come and mock me. One night my dad came home from work: it was around 2AM. As he sat on the only chair we owned, eating he re-heated supper, who should make an appearance but the rat. My dad screamed, I giggled in bed. Next morning I woke up feeling happy , they had to believe me now, that rat was huge.

My dad went out and got a mouse trap and set upon killing the rat. First night, the rat ate the cheese, ran away. Second night, same thing. Third night, my dad set out cheese dipped in peanut butter. The rat lingered too long at the trap and snap! Caught him. What my dad failed to realize was that the mouse trap was smaller than the rat and although it caught him, the rat ran around the house, squealing, caught in the mouse trap. We all got up to watch the carnage. That damn rat bled all over the place. My dad had a hammer in hand now, chasing the rat, the rat running and bleeding, the mouse trap still attached to him. My mom screaming. Me laughing. The rat got awful tired. I'm sure it was due to blood loss and carrying the mouse trap around the whole house. My dad won.

I can still picture the look of amazement on my parents faces as they looked in awe at the size of that rat. There was so much blood splattered around our living room and kitchen that it could have made the news. Complete carnage in Brooklyn. Fun turns to tragedy, film at 11.

So my little huckleberries, next time your kids claim to see a rat, a big, huge rat, the size of a kitten, don't chalk it up to their exaggerated child's imagination. Take it from me, big kitten size rats really do exist. For a rat size trap (patent pending), as well as the cheese to peanut butter ratio, feel free to call or email me.