I was told that at girls' camp this summer, a few of the young ladies were quite freaked out by all the bugs. (They're up in the woods, what'd they expect?) Even when having a wonderfully spiritual fireside testimony meeting, one or two couldn't help but shriek when a insect came their way.
To help with the situation, to make the ladies feel safer, one of the older girls was quick to step on the invaders, to hopefully keep a more peaceful atmosphere.
But that didn't make Kara happy, it pierces her heart to see any creature killed, even the bugs. So, what brought a feeling of safety to some was bringing pain to another. For the most part, we are usually all quite afraid of small invaders.
Why is it we do that? I remember being terrified of spiders when little, waking my dad when I was 7 with my cries in the middle of the night so that he had to come into the bathroom and kill a scary spider.
Now my arachnophobia is greatly diminished, and if I am able, I'll capture the critter and carry him outside to find more food than he'd catch inside my house.
I am NOT so generous with scorpions. Those are dispatched with great alacrity; And I've watched enough movies to know that if I turn away for even a second, the Monster will somehow disappear from view! So after quelling my desire to run the other way, I grab the biggest nearby weapon I can find and - PETA be damned - I just whack away at it! (I believe their recommendation is catch and release.) I do run the risk of it being a momma with a hundred microscopic babies living on her back, but that kind of reasoning flies out the window when faced with something that somehow represents SURE DEATH as it is meandering across my family room carpet.
My friend Donna in TX reports that her kitty has alerted her several times to a scorpion in the house. That would be so helpful. We see them maybe once or twice a month. (And I shudder to think of the ones we are NOT seeing.)
So that brings me back to having a yucky roof rat living in my garage. He had ample opportunity to leave, to go find food and water elsewhere. But he chose to settle in, and we just couldn't allow it. They can carry disease, they chew through walls, even. He had to go.
I won't go into the details of his death, but it pained me to do it. Our fellow creatures on this planet deserve our respect, (and it didn't help that we've had rats for pets and know they can be very smart and very clean animals.) But I've always drawn the line with the creatures that invade my space, *I* hold dominion over my home, and this one just couldn't be scooped into a glass and carried out to a bush. He, or SHE, is one of millions that are overrunning the valley here, loving all the citrus trees especially.
Big, gray roof rats
To help with the situation, to make the ladies feel safer, one of the older girls was quick to step on the invaders, to hopefully keep a more peaceful atmosphere.
But that didn't make Kara happy, it pierces her heart to see any creature killed, even the bugs. So, what brought a feeling of safety to some was bringing pain to another. For the most part, we are usually all quite afraid of small invaders.
Why is it we do that? I remember being terrified of spiders when little, waking my dad when I was 7 with my cries in the middle of the night so that he had to come into the bathroom and kill a scary spider.
Now my arachnophobia is greatly diminished, and if I am able, I'll capture the critter and carry him outside to find more food than he'd catch inside my house.
I am NOT so generous with scorpions. Those are dispatched with great alacrity; And I've watched enough movies to know that if I turn away for even a second, the Monster will somehow disappear from view! So after quelling my desire to run the other way, I grab the biggest nearby weapon I can find and - PETA be damned - I just whack away at it! (I believe their recommendation is catch and release.) I do run the risk of it being a momma with a hundred microscopic babies living on her back, but that kind of reasoning flies out the window when faced with something that somehow represents SURE DEATH as it is meandering across my family room carpet.
My friend Donna in TX reports that her kitty has alerted her several times to a scorpion in the house. That would be so helpful. We see them maybe once or twice a month. (And I shudder to think of the ones we are NOT seeing.)
So that brings me back to having a yucky roof rat living in my garage. He had ample opportunity to leave, to go find food and water elsewhere. But he chose to settle in, and we just couldn't allow it. They can carry disease, they chew through walls, even. He had to go.
I won't go into the details of his death, but it pained me to do it. Our fellow creatures on this planet deserve our respect, (and it didn't help that we've had rats for pets and know they can be very smart and very clean animals.) But I've always drawn the line with the creatures that invade my space, *I* hold dominion over my home, and this one just couldn't be scooped into a glass and carried out to a bush. He, or SHE, is one of millions that are overrunning the valley here, loving all the citrus trees especially.
Big, gray roof rats
are true vermin.
R.I.P. Remy.
R.I.P. Remy.
Unlike everybody who read your blog...I got to hear the detail of the story 'How the Naughty Rat Ended Up' and was expecting to read that grusome detail. However, you are right. Probably it is best left out.....Too emotional and some readers may stay up all night feeling bad for the rat. Save it for the next time (if anything like this ever happens again!) 'Hmmm... did I leave a feeling of 'hmmm I wonder what Robin did with the rat?????'
ReplyDeletePoor ratatouille. I was wondering why you didn't put the details in but it seems like maybe it;s better that way. hopefully there were no wife and kids left behind...
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2 nights of nothing in the trap, so we are assuming he or she was alone. I saw this morning that my neighbor left his garage door opened a crack overnight. I'd better go warn him... hopefully he won't need to borrow the trap.
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