I saw another dead rat yesterday. Not a baby this time but a big husky guy, sprawled out on the sidewalk on Court Street, which is my usual rat sighting location. I find it rather depressing that most of my sightings lately have been of rats of the nonliving kind. When I created this journal I'd hoped to share photographs of my rat sightings, but I'm not quite morbid enough to post dead rats. I think that would mean losing what little fan base I have.
I've been thinking of death a lot recently. Not in the morbid "Oh I'm so goth" kind of way, but more in reflection. My rat Morgenstern died somewhat unexpectedly at the beginning of August, and I suppose I've still been dwelling over that. I remember when my first rat, Voltaire, died. I spent the entire day after crying in bed. With Morgenstern I cried more intermittantly, and it leaves me feeling a bit unresolved. I feel like I haven't fully mourned for Morgie yet.
When I found the two wild rats dead, I felt a sadness, but it was nothing near what I felt for Morgenstern or Voltaire's passing. It's the same as when you see on the news that someone has died. You feel sadness, but you don't mourn for strangers. And yet, if I don't mourn for strange rats, who will? So here is to the trash rats, the alley rats, short lived and unloved.
Even wild rats go to Rainbow Bridge.
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posted by Sophielynette @ 8:50 AM
