The story of Anna and the Rat

One of the mammals commonly found on the dune in front of Mes Amis, is the pouched rat.

Our two Shi-Tzus, Zia and Zola,

sleep at the foot of our bed. A few days ago, we were woken around 2am by the noise made by Zia and Zola sniffling on the floor around the bed. And dashing to and fro.

'Hah!' Anna exclaimed, 'probably a mouse or a frog'.

And sprang into action. As she is wont to do. She grabbed a torch and went on all fours, following the dogs around. I, of course, was lying propped up in bed, enjoying the show. (Anna does not wear clothing to bed).

'Mouse!' she shrieked, spotting a furry thing under the bed. The idea was now, of course, to coax it from under the bed and out of the side door into the garden. To this end she dashed into the passage, grabbed a walking stick and returned to the room, brandishing it like an Amazon wielding an assegai. She went delectably down on her knees next to me and wiggled the stick under the bed. I was agog. The dogs were agog, sniffing furiously but, strangely, not barking. Hunting mode, I think.

The mouse made a break for it. Unfortunately not towards the open door. It made it to about a meter from the bed when Zola pounced. She gave one bite. The creature squeaked. Anna grabbed Zola, with the animal, which clearly was no mouse but a big rat, hanging from her mouth.

Anna, hoping to save the rat, ran with Zola to the open door, shouting 'Spit it out! Spit it out!'. Zola dropped the rat. I decided to help, got up and picked it up by the tail. Dead. Zola had broken its neck with that one bite.

I felt momentarily sad for the rat, but also proud that Zola was so fearless a hunter. I wish I could report that we gave it a ceremonial burial, but at 2am all I did was to wrap it in plastic and put it in the garbage.