Ah, New York in the fall. The air is crisp, the night lights shine brighter, and the rats are for kickin’!
Tonight’s garbage night on Eastern Parkway, and as Sari and I were walking home, we passed pile after pile of garbage bags. One particular stack of bags shuddered just as I came by, and before I had a chance to react, I felt something hit my foot in mid-stride. It bounced off one foot and hit the other. At first I thought I had somehow stumbled and kicked my own foot, but it didn’t feel like that. Sari jumped, and I turned my head just in time too see a big ol’ rat butt disappearing into the nearby shrubbery.
“Did I just kick a rat?!” Yes, indeed. Seems the scared rodent thought the smart thing to do was shoot the wickets — but was a split second too slow. Ah well, he seemed no worse for wear — that thing was solid! Maybe some bruised ribs? And a good story to tell his rat grandchildren some day.