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Just a couple of nights ago, as I was preparing for bed, I let the dogs out into the back yard (it's fenced) for their final bathroom break of the evening. When I called them back in, I noticed that a very happy Fergus had a squeaky toy in his mouth. It only took a second, however, for me to realize that it was not a squeaky toy but rather a very large rat, not quite dead.
Fergus was exceedingly proud of himself but dropped it on the kitchen floor when I yelled, "Oh my God!" I guess he wanted to let me play with it for a while. The rat was still twitching and I realized that I'd have to do something with it. Of course I feared that if I picked it up, it might revive, become feisty and bite me or run away into the living room. Now that would have been a problem. But I had to do it so I took it by the tail and carried it out into the back yard.
I wish I'd taken a photo of Fergus with his prize but there wasn't time and I just wanted it OUT of the house lest it revive and cause more problems. I went out into the back yard the next morning and found that the rat was dead. Well, the problem was solved and all was well again. I just had to dispose of the dead rat. Oh, the joys of living with dogs!
"What? I didn't do nothin' bad.":
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