Sometimes I live on the edge
The edge of sanity.
Years ago, we were two star struck kids. We were at my folks' house and Jackie and I went out for hot dogs.
I took her down to Montrose Harbor to see the Submarine Races.
(No, there are no submarine races. It was an in way to say we went to a make out place near the lake. I took several girls down to see the submarine races in my life time. Well, actually, I took one.)
So we were sitting in my car, the Chevy Impala convertible, if I recall, munching hot dogs. My arm moved around her back, and for some reason I hit the headlights.
Huge cats, or small dogs, ran in front of the car. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust, but she recognized the long tails for what they were: Rats! Many of them!! And all very big!!
I started the car and drove. I was fearful some of them had climbed the wheel wells and were now comfortably housed in my car, but they evidently they did not make it inside.
I was reminded of that tonight when I watched Channel 9 news on the computer and they talked about the rat problem in the area around the ball park. Seems all the construction at Wrigley has driven the critters out of their burrows and above ground.
Rats are not very pretty creatures, despite what Emily says. (She actually had some as pets in college. The one that came up her toilet one night was not a pet however, and forever taught her the importance of keeping the lid down and checking the bowl first.)
I always had a dislike/fear of them. One animal I would not handle at the zoo was the rat. I told my trainer that I didn't believe an animal that spread bubonic plague and was responsible for the Black Death that killed millions in Europe was a suitable animal for petting.
We never went back to the lakefront again.
And that's too bad, it really is a pleasant place to watch the submarines race.
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