This is not a trick question. Allow me to explain.
On Friday evening we had the usual people
in to watch the Opening of the Rio Olympics.
As a patriotic touch, and as I was searching for new ways to display
patriotism at our faithful Olympic Openings celebration, I decided to use the
Canadian flag as a tablecloth (blasphemous to some, I know). So shortly after dawn on Saturday morning
found me on our deck shaking out the Canadian flag. This is not a spot in which you would find me
on any other morning of the year.
My morning eyes lazily followed the crumbs
of Brazilian cheese buns and pâté crackers floating to the grass and surprisingly
focused on … the largest (and deadest) rat I had ever seen! I don’t think I screamed.
My mind then rewound to midnight the
previous night when Fiddie, the wonder dog who is now deep into old age, had
uncharacteristically jumped up barking and running around the upstairs of our
house announcing mayhem and ruin and finally deciding that he absolutely HAD to
go out onto my bedroom balcony to assume control of his garden below. He performed a thorough air sniff and finally
consented, rather reluctantly, to come in to his warm, fluffy bed.
My not always so nimble mind finally
connected these two scenarios and I deduced that the rat had been killed around
midnight by an unknown assailant in our back yard. Thank you, Clue.
My next challenge was to deal with the dead
rat.
I procrastinated as long as I could. I took an 8 Km walk with my friend Deb who is
team leader for a walking challenge with Imax and in the wake of whose shoes I
follow like the Olympic bikers in the updraft (or something) of the much faster
participants. Back at our house I
pronounced myself ready to deal with THE DEAD RAT. Armed with a shovel and sturdy plastic bag I
approached the rodent. Dear Deb sprang
into action and volunteered to handle either of the tools; I opted for the
bag. She then valiantly scooped up the
critter. I’m not quite sure what
exactly went down since I had my eyes shut but the rat arrived in the bag. I was gracious enough to thank her, I
think. But I am confident to say that
NOTHING would have been accomplished had she not been there. Hourray, Deb!
I then triumphantly and ceremoniously
deposited the plastic garden bag and dead rat into my garbage can.
A few hours later, my conscience clicked in
and I realized that my problem was not entirely resolved. I consulted my Toronto Garbage Calendar to
see how I should dispose CORRECTLY of a dead rat. Nothing.
I then googled the much vaunted, but in my experience unhelpful, site:
WASTE WIZARD. In no time, I found DEAD
ANIMALS; they were listed under PROHIBITED ITEMS. Useless … as usual! But then I spied another section offering advice
on how to dispose of prohibited items and lo and behold, on the drop down menu,
I found DEAD RATS. And it told me to
deposit them, double-bagged, into the garbage!
So great!!!
My problem is solved. Except that
my next garbage pick up is not scheduled until 10 days from now. And how do you suppose a dead rat will smell
in 10 days in this simmering Toronto heat?
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