Mine the Harvest

We couldn’t take it any more. The smell of the decaying rat was nauseating. It had been rotting away peacefully, and slowly, for over a month. The condo association was – get this – not really very interested or helpful in addressing the issue. Stunning. Perhaps if they stopped poisoning the rats they wouldn’t die in the walls and ceiling, but once you become the proud keeper of a dead rat you join the ranks of the very 1337 residents – and you are on your own. We called in a private animal control specialist (professional pied piper) yet despite his valiant attempt the rotting rat could not be found, though he did remove several baby rats from the vacant condos above us. Ahhh the joys of condos.

A decision needed to be made and a plan implemented to immediately address this issue of olfactory security. We made the call.

You see the owner of our Condo lives in California, and is an old friend. We rent from her. Previously we had inquired as to having a cat, but she declined for understandable reasons. But this – this was something completley different. We implored her to allow us a beastie for one very pragmatic reason:

We needed a ratter.

The ultimate low-tech, time honored, historically proven anti-rat machine.

And thus was the genus of a trip to Petsmart born. The next weekend there we stood, assaying the available potentials. One seemed friendly, meowing politely with a slight edge of “God save me” – only to attempt only to scratch and bite you once let out. Others were not very noteworthy, but there was one cat we kept going back to – certainly the best looking of the bunch. But looks were not enough. It had to be smart, friendly, a ratter and meet our every expectation. A ratter for all seasons. A renaissance cat.

The cat that caught our eye was a curious and pleasing blend of gray and muted red, very unique and attractive. It had the genetic base line code of aloofness and alternating interest and disinterest. But it was friendly and did not try to bite or scratch us, and seemed quite alert and intelligent.

We returned the next day to see again how the cat responded, and she did quite well. We had found our beastie. A quick whirlwind through the store to acquire a few catssentials and a paper to sign from the adoption agency an we were soon off, cat in tow.

Between last weekend and this, she has become more at home by the day. She still comes in and cries a few times a night, but is not incessant. She has discovered every possible nook, showing us a few we missed and seems to be blending into our lives quite nicely. She still is a bit hesitant to lay in your lap, but eyes it frequently with a trepidatious look. She lets you pat her though, touch and hold her paws and is very calm, so I think it only a matter of time before she sells out completely.

We have wanted a cat for a while, and are happy to have her. A name is yet to come – we are looking for the right one. So far Willow and Terra (as in the buried terracotta army of  Qin Shi Huang the First Emperor of China) are the leading choices, but we shall see. Hummm Terracatta . .

Syd and I both feel we definitely chose the right cat (or were chosen by). Here are a few pictures for now, until we get some better ones.

And as for the rats . . . let them come if they dare.