Ralphie and The Mouse

An anecdote . . . 

Ralph is one of my neighbors here in our Older Persons community.  I like Ralphie just fine.  He and I are both swimmers so I run into him in the pool in the morning.  Ralphie is a raging extrovert and a bitcher.  Ralphie bitches about everything.  When there's something he doesn't like in the community he tells the harried site manager in-person and follows this up with an email to her AND to her boss.  As you can imagine he's not a favorite of the site manager.  He's also a great repeater of stories so I get to hear about the things that he's upset about over and over.  I could care less about most of these things.  To me they're incredibly minor.  I don't care how often the garbage can in the exercise room is emptied.  So I sit in the hot tub with a vacant look on my face and nod over and over, like one of those novelty dogs you see on the back ledge of old sedans.

Today, as I tried to sneak past the exercise room (he rides a stationary bike before getting into the pool) he waves me in.

"Hey," he says.  "I was in here yesterday and there was a rat in the pool."

"No way," I said, glad that if I was going to hear about some minor infraction it had an arresting beginning.

"Yeah," he continues.  "I get into the pool and there's this rat swimming around, trying to get out.  So I go into the clubhouse and get a cup and fish him out and toss him onto the pool deck.  The son of a bitch turns around and gets back into the pool.  Then it heads for the deep end, swimming underwater."

I don't have a lot of rat background knowledge.  I'm imagining one of those huge brown or black rats you see in horror films.  

Ralphie then tells me that he shrugs and swims his laps.  

"You're kidding me," I say.  I'm trying to imagine this overweight old guy swimming so slowly I have no idea how he stays up, in the pool with a huge black rat that is swimming around underwater, like some rogue Soviet-era mini-sub.

"Yeah," he continues. "So when I'm done I scoop him up again, toss him back on the deck, and the son of a bitch makes a beeline for the sauna and dives right in."

"You.  Are.  Making.  This.  Up," I said.  I think he was trying to be semi-serious, trying to get me to finally show some outrage over the problems in the community,  but with each turn of the tale I broke into laughter.

"Yeah," he says.  "But when I get over there?  No rat."

We walk over to the hot tub and look down.  It is rat-free.  

I said: "See that plastic disc inset into the concrete over there?  There's a filter basket under it.  It filters out stuff from the hot tub.  Maybe the rat got sucked into the recirculation intake."  Fair disclosure: I made all that stuff up and I had no idea what was in there.  I encouraged him to investigate.  He prys open the lid and peers in.  He gets a stick and prods around.

"Just stick your hand in there," I suggested helpfully, moving to the other side of the hot tub.

There the little guy was, swirling around.  Looked like a mouse to me.

Here in California, the two rat species that invade homes and businesses most often throughout the year are Norway rats and roof rats.  Both of these rodent species will eat anything from fruits and grains to meats and even insects!