When we got ready for bed Saturday night, Mr. Bean was climbing the screen and DH thought that he was catching bugs. So he opened the door and let the cat in. ALl over sudden I hear: Mr. Bean NOOOOO! Oh SH** he's got a rat.
Of course the rat was alive and of course Mr. Bean spat it out in the kitchen.
Pat yelled that he's got a bucket but he can't figure out how to get the rat into the bucket. All I can think of is to hand him a flyswatter. Here stand the great white hunters. One with a bucket and a flyswatter, the other (me) barefoot in a T-shirt waving a dish towel. Got the picture?
Eventually Ratatouille heads my way and I throw myself into his path - even caught it by the tail. Unfortunately, DH didn't leave well enough alone. Instead of letting me take it out, he has to put the bucket on it - and the rat has NO trouble escaping......under the fridge.
Now out comes the fridge and the poor rat is screaming - I'm crying, Pat is cursing and the damn cat is yowling for canned food. Pat got the trolly and lifted the fridge letting the rat out. I took Mr. Bean and put him LITERALLY nose to nose with his bounty. The little turd looked at me as if I had just insulted him (and pranced away).
Now we are at last resort and Pat called Heidi our lab/hound mix. She checks out the corner and gets hissed at by the rat who escapes between all our legs. Remember - I am still barefoot and let out an involuntary squeal and jump. The dog turns on a dime - barrels past me (knocks me over) and like greased lightning catches that rodent. Good dog!
Now the cat decides that - well - since it is dead, he might as well eat it.
.......do our cats manipulate us? You tell me.