Truly, the introduction of the Norway rat to North America has to rank right up there as one of the nastiest things Man has ever done. They continue to be a scourge in the ‘hood and earlier this week I had to face their inherent cruelty unexpectedly and head-on.
Though we have no cages out back any more and the dog of one of our next-door neighbors has turned out to be quite a ratter, they still wander back and forth across our rather simple, spare backyard regularly; going from various neighbors’ unused garages to other neighbors’ unkempt, overgrown backyards. If we scare them in our yard, they often head around behind the shed and we decided to get rid of a few plastic panels that had been stashed there so as to eliminate another hiding place. So despite the heat, during a lull in a squirrel photo session, I walked to the back of the shed and started pulling out the panels.
As I lifted the last one, a very large rat startled and bolted and as I scanned the ground to see if there was a nest or a burrow hole, I noticed what these experienced eyes immediately recognized as a neonate of the order Rodentia. Far too tiny to be even a newborn pine squirrel, it was, of course, a rat.
There was no nest or burrow hole. This was a dead baby rat that was in the process of being eaten by the adult I had just disturbed.
Or so I sadly thought until I gently picked it up. At first I thought I was dreaming but as I looked closely it was soon obvious that against all odds this oh-so-tiny bit of pink flesh was still breathing. Then I saw that it was missing its entire hind end and its guts were matted in the bits of dirt and frass – my heart simply stopped.
While I despise rats, I am not unsympathetic to their situation; their being here is not their fault. Nor am I ever deliberately cruel to them. And certainly this wee newborn had done absolutely nothing to merit its now-horrifying and heartbreaking condition. There was no alternative, however, except to take it inside and administer a lethal dose of sedative as quickly as possible.
Even though helping to ease and speed its inevitable death was humane and right, I still feel terrible and those tiny, determined breaths will forever haunt me. What strength was in that newborn soul that it would not surrender its life even after any chance to live that life had been so cruelly and needlessly removed? From whence the fight to cling to what had been promptly and perversely stolen and could never be recovered? What source such rock-solid hope in the face of sheer and utter hopelessness?
With no answer forthcoming except to hold onto faith that this all makes sense to Something greater than our feeble human minds can comprehend, nothing left to do but once again cry tears for the innocent and continue to pray for mercy on all our earthbound souls.
