After FOUR interviews today (3 at staffing agencies), I thought I was just going to spend a very quiet evening at home reading "Harry Potter" with the kitties. They were active and just asking for attention (as well as some of my black beans, tofu and cauliflower).
The landlord knocked on the door and when I opened, all the kitties flew outside. Dobson went around the other side of the house and immediately ran back in with a rather decent-sized rat in his mouth.
RAN BACK INTO MY HOUSE!
The landlord and I followed him into the livingroom, and I opened the door to the porch, hoping he'd take it out there. He dropped the rat conveniently behind my purple velvet chair so it could escape behind the armoire. Oy.
I pulled the armoire away from the wall and Dobson ran around trying to find where the rat went. I called for reinforcements, but only George responded (Carmine continued his quest for the victims comrades in the greenhouse). I finally found that the rat was wedged behind a small bookshelf, no idiot he, in an attempt to head back toward the kitchen door. I moved that shelf and Dobs pulled him out and ran toward the kitchen.
Ratty escaped but had caught George's eye -- between the two cats, he didn't stand a chance.
[Dobson is currently re-enacting the chase through the livingroom and kitchen looking for the rat's shadow].
Julio, the dog, came downstairs and was intrigued by the cats' attempts to capture/kill/play with the rat -- but distracted them from their Greater Mission. Ratty made for the open door -- between the wall and the door (not too bright) but did squeek out the gap below the hinge.
George was on it -- he worried that rat around the jade plant, and after a good 20 minutes, growling at Dobs when he got too close, he had a dead rat on his paws and couldn't quite figure out what to do with it.
I finally got out the cat treats and shook the bag -- Carmine and Dobs were anxious for treaties, and even George came back to the door with an obvious conflict -- drop the rat? eat the treats? keep the rat?
Finally, I pried the rat away from him (wearing dishwashing gloves) and gave him a handful of cat treats.
Now they're back to fighting over black beans and tofu. Dobs is licking the dish and George seems to be showing Carmine a tour of where the rat battle was waged.
[I would like to add to the surreal nature of my evening by mentioning that there was a brightly lit blimp passing overhead about four times.]
