So my house, in an act of Hogarthian impoverishment had a rat. I heard it for ages scratching away at night, but everyone said I was paranoid. Wasn't so paranoid when my flat mate opened a drawer to see Mr Rat scurrying around!
So she called Rentokil (In retrospect, what an awful name that company has) and a chap came round and showed us that the rat had been dragging bags of flour out of our cupboard and feasting on them (who eats flour). He laid some poison and said that would be that.
So for the weekend my flat mate and I were away but our friend Mike who bums round at our house (sometimes quite literally) popped over to find a half dead rat lolling around on the living room floor. He got a dustpan and brush and picked it up and went to throw it into the garden, but it lept out back over his shoulder! Being the massive queen he is, he freaked out and got a frying pan and hit the rat with it and then put it in the garden. Then started crying.
When I got from ATP I saw the rat was in the flower pot he put it in, but then later, A CROW put it in its mouth and flew off with it!
Gievn the rat was poisoned, do you reckon the crow's brown bread too?
It's the ciiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirlce of life