Tine and I sat down to watch a movie last night. It got about 5 minutes into it when we started hearing this thud against the window. This is the same window we use to pass wood in, so it has no screen and the cat uses to get in the house by scratching at it until we let her in.
After a minute I got up to look for the cat and sure enough she was bounding on to the sill, but she kept falling off. When I got to the window, she would normally be watching me, but this time she had her back to me, her fur raised slightly.
I figured another neighborhood cat might be in yard and she was running for her life. She's kind of wimp. So I quickly opened the window to rescue her.
Nala turns and before I can react, she bounds into the house with something in her mouth. Something big. Really big.
Holy fuck! I start to think and in my mind I think she's got a squirrel. But it's tail isn't puffy, and before I can finish that thought, I'm shouting, "The cat's got something in her mouth! Jesus Christ it's a fucking rat!"
And she's in the house running for the kitchen, I think Tine screams. Without thinking I race after her and she's under the table and she drops it. But my mind is racing, I know what's coming. I know it, because I've never seen a cat bring home anything dead.
Just as I reach the kitchen, she drops it and the thing is off and running. It darts under the kid's computer where Mike is sitting and he just about rips the chair out from under him and leaps out of the way.
I'm swearing like a drunken sailor. Most of it direct at the fucking cat whom doesn't seem interested in her treat. Apparenlty, Nala retires to the living room and streches out like it's a lazy Sunday.
Very quickly I pull all the furniture away from the area. Chairs, the kitchen table, Mike's amp. I need to make room so if it comes out, I can see where the hell its going. I bound up to the hall and throw on my boots and grab some work gloves. I grab a trash bag and start to really worry about what the hell to do. Rats and mice can literally crush themsleves down to fit into tiny areas. This thing is about 1/3 the size of the cat herself. Maybe a little bigger, but that doesn't mean it can't fit into a tiny creves or find a way out that I can't see right away.
I swear more. A lot more.
I grab the flashlight and start probing under the desk. Meanwhile Tine has a blanket she's got pinned to the hallway to keep it from getting out of the kitchen. She has me close all the doors downstairs. She has Mike get the broom and has him start whacking the china hutch to startle it.
I have to make him stop that, because I'm not read should it suddenly appear. Then Tine and Mike switch places and she starts readying herself to smash it. I have to make her stop whacking the floor and the hutch.
"I'm not ready goddamn it," I said. I'm really afraid she's going to cause it leap out, probably at me.
I keep moving the light and then some of the wires from the computer to get a good look under the desk. I'm so afraid that it's already gotten away somehow.
Then I spot it.
The light dances off it's glowing red eye. Its head is sticking out from behind the PC on the floor in the corner, just behind this red folder-case we have for manuals. It looks huge. But it's not moving, I'm hoping it's injured enough to keep from darting until I can figure out what the fuck to do.
"Flush it out here and I'll smash it," Tine said with this fevered pitch. She whacks the floor with the broom like a baseball player tapping his bat on the plate. Somehow I'm not reassured. For one that broom is a Halloween prop.
"Stop it," I say, depserately trying to think of how I can get it into a trash bag.
Then she suggests I reach in and grab it. Which doesn't sound that appealing to me. Even if I manage to get my hands on it, I really don't know it can't bite through these gloves.
I don't need a round of rabies shots.
It still hasn't moved. So I have Tine get me a second trash bag and I slide it under the desk blocking its way out. It doesn't react, so I get bolder and prop open the trash bag with a couple of small cardboard boxes. Now the bag is basically covering the entire underside of the desk, open like a small plastic cave. If it runs, it'll either run out into the open--and at me--or into the bag.
Then I take the broom--which I took away from Tine--and start to move the folder-case. As I do, I fully expect the movement to startle it into running.
It does not.
I start wondering if it's not really injured. Which could be bad. Unpredictably bad. But at the same time, it's ears look a little too big for a rat and I start to wonder.
"Holy crap, I think it's a rabbit," I say.
Suddenly Tine's demeanor does a 180. "A rabbit? Aww, Don't hurt it."
"What?!?"
"It's just a poor little bunny, don't kill it."
"I don't know it's a rabbit," I remind her, not taking my eyes off it. But it still hasn't moved and it really does look like a small rabbit. "And it's still a wild animal."
I decide it's now or never and take the broom by the end and slowly poke it with the handle. Again, I expect it to bolt and again it does not. It does move slightly and now I can tell for sure.
"Yeah, it's a rabbit."
Another round of don't kill it. At this point, if I can get it out of the house, I'll be more than happy.
Another poke and a prod and it leaps out from its hiding spot and I have to make one threatening move to get it to leap into the bag.
I quickly scoop up the bag and double check that I've got it closed and that I'm not dumping the rabbit back onto the carpet. Then I bound upstares to the side door.
"We should keep the little bunny," Kelly pleads half-heartedly.
"It's still a wild animal," I say and open the door.
A few steps outside and I'm in the backyard. I walk over to the edge of the yard and dump out the bag. I'm still not 100% convinced it won't bite me given the chance, so I sort of toss the gently onto the ground.
I turn around and the cat is there.
I chase her away into the front yard so she can't just come back and return her gift to us. After that, I assume the rabbit made it back home to the warren or was eaten by a bengal tiger.
"From now on," I told everyone. "We don't let the cat in unless we know for sure she doesn't have anything in her mouth."
posted by Evil Wayne @ 10:21 AM
2 Comments:
Seriously, sometimes I think your life is really a sitcom. Am I reading your blog or is the feed from some Brazilian TV recap site? ;)
Yeah, sometimes it's so surreal I can hardly believe it. Seriously, I've *never* heard of a cat bringing a rabbit into the house.
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