I was alone at the community garden downstairs, trying to transplant more flowers to make a pretty border along the fence, when I discovered I wasn't alone. A giant ass rat (the size of a kitten) darted around the confines of the fenced garden, just as I was about to retrieve a spade for my purpose.
I wasn't quite sure who was more traumatized, me or the rat. Especially since he also ran across my plot of water convulvus. In my fevered excitement, I sent a message exclaiming the fact to Malay Uncle (MU), honcho of our little garden.
Last Saturday, I popped in the garden (after eating Haagan Daaz while watching a mortifying "Super Size versus Super Skinny") to find MU talking to the uncle living at my block. MU said "don't look down, there is a dead rat next to you."
Of course, I looked. You would, wouldn't you?
It was Mr Rat from some weeks ago. I didn't understand how he could suddenly die, since he could run faster than I could from our encounter some weeks ago.
The town council man showed up to collect the carcass while I continued to dig a trench for my intended herb garden. I was surprised again because usually our building cleaner would do any retrieval of our rubbish. He even took a photo of the carcass before getting down to the nasty business.
It was then I understood that the Town Council had poisoned the rat.
Didn't know what was more shocking.... the fact that I have been an accessory to his murder or he could have been pissing his poisoned rat wee wee all over the garden before he croaked. Suddenly I didn't feel like eating anything from the garden. I discreetly threw away the water convulvus I had harvested....
