Rumors of a Rat

Im back from my 5 days at Congress, playing with Barry. Got back just as it was getting dark tonight. I have been miraculously out of touch most of the weekend. I talked to mom Thursday nite, and my Amish a couple of times, but that hardly counts. I was really and truly out of touch with everything at home, which is exactly what I needed.

But let me tell you, that is a long freaking drive. I know it is 400 miles, but it is the longest 400 miles I have ever driven--and it is hardly the first time I have driven it so I should not be surprised. I stopped in Cincinnati, a place I love, on the way home to do a few things, but mostly, I just put my foot down and hauled my fat butt home at my usual illegal pace. It still took all dang day,

As with all my trips, I check in when I get close, so I can adjust to what kind of hell I am walking into when I get here. I try to time it just right--if something is bad, and I am too far away, that is bad. But if I am too close, I do not have time to get my panic under control. This time, I left Fonzie foundering in a stall, Foxy in a pen with an eye issue blooming, and three babies in the barn continuing the weaning process. And Tazer's first time at home alone.

Just this side of Louisville, mom called. She swore nothing was wrong. That usually means a bunch of stuff is wrong. Talking to mom when she is on her cell is complicated--she talks in her car using the bluetooth thing that lets her talk through the radio. It echoes. Its irritating. There are a lot of WHATS? and HUHS? and SAY THAT AGAINS with those conversations. She asked if I got some emails, I did, then she said something about a RAT.

That is one of the few words that makes me freak out like a ten year old girl. I am not kidding you. After a bunch of WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?s, I got the dirt. Evidently a rat drowned in the water trough in the babies stall. A RAT. I do not do rats (maggots either--those are the only two farm things I simply cannot abide). I have never in all these years seen a rat at the farm. Mice, yes. Foxes, yes. Skunks, groundhogs, coyotes, possum and raccoons, yes. But no rats. And that is the way I like it.

I got her to tell me about the rat, and how it freaked her out so she LEFT IT THERE. For me. Knowing full well I would likely have a panic attack. Is that motherly love, I ask you? I got a good description of where he was so I was not surprised, and then I worried about it all the way home. I went straight to the farm, and started the process...Playmate in her stall, feed the blind horses, make Foxy's special mix, check all waters, prepare the multiple buckets for everyone else that gets it--the whole time looking around for this damn rat. I guess I thought it would jump up and get me, despite being dead as a mackeral. It made for a very stressful feeding, let me tell you.

Before it was all said and done, I came to the conclusion that there is no rat. There just was not one. I saw the damp spot where mom said she poured the water out of the bucket, so this big honking rat she described should have been right there. It was not. I could not find it anywhere.

So did she make up this rat to freak me out? Or did someone--who?--take my rat? WTF?