I’d never heard such a bloodcurdling scream in my entire life. Well, outside of a movie theater showing a horror movie, anyway. But this scream came from my wife, which caused me to run from my home office, where I was busy paying my various monthly bills, to the dining room, where the scream came from.
“Get it out of here!” she screamed at me when I arrived. She pointed and my eyes followed her pointing finger and that’s when I saw it. Our cat, who had been in our backyard, caught a rat and, with rat in mouth, came up to our deck, sauntered into our dining room via the open sliding glass door, and dropped the almost dead rat on the mat just inside the door.
“Get it out of here!” my wife screamed again. She was literally shaking. I grabbed a ziplock bag out of a kitchen drawer, scooped up the mortally wounded rat, and carried it out to the trash bin in our garage.
By the time I got back, my wife had calmed down a bit, but she was still a little shook up. “You okay?” I asked.
“No, I’m not okay,” she said. “I can’t believe the goddam cat brought a rat into our house and dropped it on the mat in our dining room.”
We both looked down at our cat, who looked back at us with either total disinterest or possibly disdain. It was as if he was thinking how ungrateful we were after he went to all the trouble of catching and bringing us a present. “Why aren’t you thanking me? Aren’t you proud of me?” he seemed to be asking us.
Written for Teresa Grabs’ latest writing challenge, where she asks us to “write a rhyming (or not) story for adults using a cat, a rat, and a mat.”