18 August 2009

Not for the faint of heart

About an hour ago, Cristy put a small flashlight in my hand, and equipped with a shovel, half a dozen plastic bags and some heavy duty garden tongs, we trudged outdoors to fish a dead rat out from under a stack of firewood. My job was to hold the flashlight. Cristy's job was to actually do the heavy lifting. I completed my job with all the requisite grimaces and gasps. Cristy made a few verbal exclamations too: "This is really gross. Stop squealing. Hold the light!"

Flashback several hours earlier. I was taking care of backyard dog doo-doo duty and noticed a few too many flies around the corner of the firewood stack. Upon closer inspection, I could clearly see some fur behind one of the logs and my lightning quick intellect concluded that it was a dead rat. I retreated as quickly as possible into the house and locked the door behind me.

I gravely delivered the news to Cristy when she got home and, to my alarm, she immediately determined that we needed to remove the deceased rodent. I could not persuade her to wait until trash day, I could not even persuade her to wait until I was not even there. It was gross. Hopefully, lightning will not strike twice in close vicinity and I will not be a party to dead rat duty again for a very long while.


  1. wasn't half a dozen bags... just 4. and if we hadn't lifted dead rodent out of the yard, no telling if dogs or cat would have wanted to play with the new 'toy'. only thing, it wouldn't have squeaked when they chewed on it. thanks for helping and being a wonderful flashlight holder!

  2. I have to say I'm on Diane's side here - tooootally would have gotten Kyle to do it without me around. I'm too squeaky (and squawky)myself.