The man thought that he had found a rat in the entrance. But when he grew up Wow

2024 Author: Seth Attwood | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-16 15:55

“Out of surprise, I almost jumped back into the elevator when I saw this on the fifth floor landing. A small, dirty lump for some unknown reason moved disgustingly and made quiet creaking sounds. I had never seen a rat before, but for some reason I immediately decided that it was a baby rat. As a cat lover with thirty-five years of experience, I immediately identified the enemy. Apparently, a subconscious attitude towards these creatures was superimposed on this slimy and disgusting-looking lump.

For several seconds I was dumbfounded at this phenomenon. Questions arose in my head. "Where did this come from?", "Where is the tail?", "Where is mother?" Overcoming a feeling of disgust, I came close and squatted down. The elevator doors closed, and it became completely dark on the landing. The evening lighting had not yet been turned on, and the window above gave very little light to make out the details. I took out my phone and turned on the flashlight.

The thing looked terrible. All dirty, streaked with some kind of mucus, with sparse frail bristles instead of skin, the rat did not even try to run away, but only trembled finely, squeezing into the baseboard. And it also didn’t seem to have one hind leg … "Ugh, how disgusting!" - I thought in Freken Bock's voice.

Looking at this disgrace, I automatically figured out how to get rid of it. I couldn't just walk by. Well, of course! Entrance activist! A fighter for the cleanliness of the steps and a fighter with homeless people. On my floor is my old sofa with an armchair, a pot with an unkillable plant called "mother-in-law's tongue", and all the butts are thrown into a jar of Nescafe, which I regularly renew. And here it is! Naturally, I could not crush the creature with my heel. Well this is how much dirt there will be! If it were an adult rat, I would not miss the opportunity to play a football player. Since there was no garbage chute in our house, there was only one option - a toilet.

There are four steps from the elevator to the apartment door. I flew home and, without even changing my shoes, jumped into the toilet. After unwinding a hefty piece of paper towel (I won't take THIS with my bare hands!) I returned to the site. With the very tips of my fingers, over the towel, of course, I gently rolled the little rat onto the paper and, barely holding back the vomiting urge, rushed back to the toilet. I just had to make one movement and press the flush, when suddenly I froze.

You can call it pink snot, you can call it senile sentimentality, but I suddenly knew for sure that I couldn't do it. For several long moments I stood bent over the toilet, holding in my hands a paper cradle, in which a disgusting-looking creature trembled finely. And then, already pondering in my mind what a grandiose scandal my beloved would throw at me, he slowly turned to the sink.

Putting the baby rat carefully on the edge of the sink, I turned on the water. I tried to adjust it to the body temperature, and then, remembering that the rats had a higher body temperature, added a little warm. Having put on rubber gloves for hand washing (I am a senile, of course, but not an idiot to catch an infection), I transferred the little rat under a weak stream of water. He jerked a couple of times, emitting a creaky squeal, and then blissfully fell silent. Only the tummy, slightly heaving from breathing, said that the cub was still alive. I did not dare to rub it. The rat looked too small and defenseless next to my fingers. I only washed his body with water, making sure that the water did not get on his nose. The cotton swabs, which my wife left on the shelf next to the sink, helped. Having heavily moistened cotton wool, I rubbed my blind muzzle with jewelry movements, which turned out to be quite pretty …

Having finished the water procedures, after which the cub turned out to be quite perceptible, I abruptly rushed to my closet and snatched a T-shirt out of it. A men's T-shirt is not a women's bra for you! A good men's T-shirt is inferior in tenderness only to the hands of a mother who strokes her child! Having wrapped the little rat in a T-shirt, I rushed to the refrigerator. What rats eat, I guessed. But the level of my education also said that rats belong to mammals, which means that the cub must eat milk. Since rat milk could not be in my refrigerator by definition, I will feed it as usual, from a bag. I nursed kittens from the first week of birth. Now I'll try to save the rat … A pipette from a first-aid kit. Collect milk. Warm in hand. And now a little bit … A little bit … The little rat fluttered a couple of times, coughed, but then actively started working with his jaws … After a few drops, the kid slowed down, and then, having ceased to respond to the pipette, he began to sniff quietly. I fell asleep …

“Yes, I know! Don't rub your soul !!! - I mentally yelled at myself - I do not know how to raise rats! It will die - even if it is warm and under supervision. And he added quite quietly:

- Yes, and the conscience will be clear … - although in front of a rat cub this phrase sounded very stupid.

Two hours later, the baby rat stirred and squeaked. I fed him again from the pipette, and he fell asleep again.

A week later, I noticed that the baby rat gained weight, grew up and acquired fur. So, it will live …

I wanted to call him Lucky, Lucky. He was really lucky. I was lucky that it was then that I got off the elevator. Lucky I didn't flush it down the toilet. It was lucky that I then had to take a vacation for the past three years, and therefore could feed him every two hours. I was lucky that I was stronger than my wife, and she could not throw me out with the rat from the fifth floor … This creature could clearly be called Lucky, but everyone called him the Rat Cub. Or just the Rat …

And now, a year later, I have a gorgeous sable collar. Any coat and any jacket. Although he is still small, he is warm, hums like a cat, and bites my ear when the smoke from my cigarette gets into his nose.

Yes Yes! The rat turned out to be a sable! And I turned out to be a mediocrity in zoology.

How? Where? Why? I still haven't found an answer to these questions. Disregarding conventions, I bypassed all the neighbors, got out all the homeless people in the neighborhood, crawled the entire Internet, but I still did not understand - where a cub of the Barguzin sable could appear on my floor!

The sable is a predator and moves by jumping. I read this on Wiki. Although it is difficult for a Rat to do this without a hind left paw. And that bothered me a lot at first. But, nevertheless, when we go out for a walk, he happily, albeit awkwardly, gallops through the snow after pigeons, and when he gets tired, he climbs on my neck and warms his paws about me. I iron my living collar and thank fate that did not allow me to make a mistake …"