I could really use some of that yellow police "crime scene" tape

I did something really bad while my husband was away from home overnight. This is something that he has warned me countless times against doing and now something bad happened as a result of my carelessness. And I had only hours to rectify the situation.


See, my husband recently spent the better part of a Saturday cleaning our garage. He removed everything from it and set it all in the driveway. Then, he swept and reorganized and even brought in some implements from the local Home Depot to assist him in his task. In his mind, this was the equivalent of setting up a baby's nursery. The reason? It houses his newest baby, a Mustang GT convertible he recently purchased.


In the process, he managed to score points with me since I had been repeatedly requesting this chore be done for the previous two months.


Anyway, in exchange for his intense labor, he made me pledge that I would keep the garage door closed anytime that I'm not out there. This is a bad habit of mine, I'll admit. Almost as bad as leaving my shoes all over the house (but that's for another post). For sure, I hate opening it every time I take a trash bag from the house out to the main trash bin.

He makes a litany of great argument in favor of keeping it closed: saving on utility bills, keeping the dirt from blowing in , keeping critters from waltzing in and establishing homes, keeping Dually from walking all over the vehicles (although I personally happen to love those cute pawmarks he leaves on the car...it's like he's saying "hi" a hundred times).


So Neal and our son left yesterday afternoon to spend the night in Houston in preparation for an early-morning deep-sea fishing trip which means he wasn't around last night to check the garage door before bedtime to make sure I was in compliance with the new rule. Well, don't you know that I opened the door from the house to the garage this morning and saw that the garage door had been open all night! I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and I could hear Neal's voice ringing in my head, although he's so nice (even when he nags) that I feel badly more out of knowing he would be disappointed that I forgot than actually committing the deed itself.


I could have easily gotten over the guilt after watching a couple of episodes of The Soup that were saved on DVR but alas, there was physical proof as well. As my eyes were scanning the garage, terror set in. I saw something that resembled a submission to "Germany's Most Disturbing Home Videos" (an SNL reference for ya there!). There were three items of interest lying on the garage floor right where Neal's car is normally parked, and each one was swarming with ants. As I approached the scene, I realized that Dually decided to prove his manhood yet again by dismembering and disemboweling what appeared at one time to be a rat.


The first part was definitely a tail. An ugly, flesh-colored, scaly rat tail, that is.


The second part was the bottom half of a rat's head, namely the lower jaw and part of the neck.


The final chapter in this bloodbath (which gets progrssively creepier) was certainly internal organs of some type, perhaps an intestine?

Good grief, this rat must have really given him a hard time because I have never seen him expend so much energy into hunting. He normally leaves his victims intact and neatly presented on the porch as if he would like us to take it to the taxidermist for him.

Frankly, I was as horrified as the ants were delighted. Sure, I was happy that Dually was earning his keep but why did he have to do it when Neal (or better yet my son because he relishes doing "manly" jobs) is not here to clean it up?

Then it hit me. This was a sign from God. A disgusting sign but a sign nonetheless. I learned several lessons here, the least of which is to keep the freaking garage door closed! I also learned that pouring corn starch over animal guts helps greatly in the clean-up process.


If I had made the same mistake while Neal's convertible was in the garage with the top down, Dually could have left his trophy right there in the driver's seat! Neal's car has red leather seats which could possibly have rendered the bloody guts undetectible! Can you imagine?


So this Sunday, as I reflect on lessons learned, I say, "Thank you, Jesus, for the message received in the midst of what could have been a terrible tragedy had my husband sat on those innards. And also, thank you for eliminating another rat from the world. Amen."