Rats!

Travis' folks are here visiting from Texas. His graduation is on Saturday, so they decided to come to Oregon for a week, and stay to watch him walk. (His Masters). In preparation of them arriving, we did some cleaning about the house, and tried to straighten things up as best we could. We don't wallow in filth, but the house was starting to get a bit cluttered, and I probably should be vacuuming a bit more in the summer when Beau decides he's trying to shed an entire rug's worth of dog hair on a daily basis.

We've had a long history with trash removal around the house. Derek refuses to pay to have the refuse company pick up the can in front of the house. He figures that since he has a dumpster at work, he'd just take it to work to dump. No need to have them pick it up. (Except that he never takes it into work, it just sits in the garage until we nag him to take it.)

With the frenzy of house cleaning, we had too much trash to hide in the garage, so we decided to take it down to Derek's work and dump it ourselves. I put an old comforter into the back of the SUV, and Travis helped me to load it up carefully, double and triple bagging the already bagged garbage. Some of it was already leaking and decomposing and just full of gross trash juice. Ick! As I was wandering around the garage for a few minutes, we went back into the house and got a few more trash bags, and then returned to the garage.

Dead on the garage floor, where it had not been a little bit earlier, was a rat. Dead. Rat. Let those two words sink in a little bit. Yuk. Travis and I had a very brief conversation about the dead rat, and decided to leave it until we got back from the trash run to deal with it. I mean, maybe it was just really tired, and napping. It could happen. Right?

After unloading the trash at Derek's dumpster, and getting garbage juice on my leg (a triple bagged parcel leaked anyway....) we drove home only to find the dead rat in the same spot. He had flies buzzing around him. Guess this nap was permanent.

Me: We need to get rid of the rat
Travis: I'll get the shovel and we'll just fling it on the side of the house where Derek flings all the stuff he doesn't like.
Me: I think we...WHAT!? No. We need to dispose of it like responsible adults
Travis: What is the difference?
Me: It is a DEAD RAT.
Travis: You're being silly
Me: Don't care. I'm going to go Google how to get rid of the rat.
Travis: You know that you're crazy, right?

Yes. I am crazy. I'm crazy about lots of things. But most of them are related to germs and dead things, so I don't have a problem with it. After all, I just had garbage juice down my leg, and in the back of my vehicle. So, I was also inhaling garbage air. How's that for crazy? Eh?

I did not want to take a page out of the book of my father. He told and instructed us, as kids, to fling the dog crap over the fence with a shovel. Not realizing that years later, along with countless loads of lawn clippings, that someone would eventually build a house on the wooded area(s) where we loaded piles of doggy-doo and a multitude of other decomposable sins.

Google told us what to do.

Me: Google says we need to mix a bleach solution (3TBPS Bleach to a gallon of water) and spray the rat until it is soaked. Then we put it in a zip-top bag, and double bag it, then we put it in a large garbage bag, tie the bag closed, and put it in a trash can with a tight fitting lid. I'll go mix the bleach, and get gloves and baggies.
Travis: This has got to be one of the whitest things you've ever done.
Me: It's a dead rat. I don't care.
Travis: We don't have a garbage can that gets picked up, we just went to the 'dump'
Me: Don't care.

We gloved up, got the baggies and bleach and trash liner, Travis got the shovel, and I took the shovel and scooped up the rat. Travis re-positioned the shovel, and then I soaked it in the bleach.

Travis: So I'll hold the shovel and you'll hold the baggie.
Me: No, YOU are going to hold the baggie and I'll move the shovel.
Travis: Why me?
Me: Because I did the google work and mixed the bleach. And I have had enough going wrong it he last 24 hours. What with the spiders crawling out of my air conditioner in the house, trash in my SUV, a spider on the front seat, and the trash juice. (Another very long story)
Travis: *sighs*

Travis held the first zip top bag, as I lifted the shovel, then the bleach soaked rat moved on the shovel. I squealed like a little girl. We continued, the rat fell into the bag, I took it from Travis and zipped it up. Then I put it into a second zip top bag and zipped it up. Then I put it in a third one and zipped that up too. I'm nothing if not thorough.

So, picture the two of us, grown adults, in my driveway, gloved up, with baggies and a squirt bottle of bleach and a shovel, maneuvering around one another like ballerinas, carrying a dead rat on a shovel. If it had been video-taped, I'm sure it was the funniest thing anyone could ever see.

Not so much fun for me. But we did it.
Not sure this was the 'couple bonding' that I had in mind.

More about the spiders in my next post.