RATS - FREE TO GOOD HOME

Pam studied the classified ad in front of her.

RATS - RESCUED THIS WEEKEND. FREE TO GOOD HOME

What could this mean?

As a lab assistant, the advertisement intrigued Pam. She rarely worked with rats herself, but knew that the scientists down the hallway did a lot of work with them. She wondered whether the rescued rats were from that lab, and what the implications might be. A lot of research might have been comprised; the findings obsolete now.

Pam was torn on her feelings about this. On one hand, she understood and appreciated the need for research and lab testing. Important discoveries required testing. And while she didn’t want animals to die or become deformed by the procedures, she didn’t know any way around it, either, if scientific advancements were to be made.

On the other hand, she couldn’t stand witnessing the effects some of these procedures had on lab rats, and worse – cats and dogs. When they were harmed for the advancement of things like make-up, Pam wanted to rage and scream and cry at the injustice. She never did, though. The most she’d done was avoid the labs where animal testing was done. Maybe she could do something else now. Be proactive.

This rat ad intrigued her. Rescued rats? Free to good home?

She dialed the phone.

“Hello?”

Pam stammered. “Uh, hello? I saw your ad in the paper? For the free rats?”

“Oh! Great! They make great pets. A lot of people don’t think of rats as pets, but they can be very lovable and they’re as smart as dogs. They’ll ride around on your shoulder if you let them. Kinda tickles. Mine likes to weave in and out of my hair. Feels really neat.”

Pam shuddered slightly at the thought of a rat in her hair.

“Well, I don’t really know if I want a rat for a pet. I mean, I’m sure they’re excellent pets? But I was thinking more like maybe I could help rescue more rats or something? Get involved?”

There was a distant rustling on the other end of the phone and a clattering sound, like someone was hanging up.

“Hello?” Pam called tentatively into the mouthpiece.

More clattering.

“I’m here. Just dropped the phone. One of the rats was fighting the other and they both ran up my arm at the same time.”

Pam was sure her heart stopped for a moment. She felt frozen into place, as though the rats were about to travel through the phone line and attack her there in her apartment. She instinctively raised her feet off the ground and tucked them under her. This call was a bad idea.

“Oh, well, if you’re busy, I’ll just call back.”

Pam hurried to move the receiver to its cradle.

“No, that’s okay. It’s all under control here. You sure you don’t want one?” the girl on the other end of the phone laughed.

Fight or flight panic flooded through Pam.

“Just kidding,” the rat girl said. “But sure, if you want to help rescue more rats, that would be cool. I think there’s another Chinese restaurant down Columbia Avenue that we can check out.”

Chinese restaurant? Pam was confused. Was this girl inviting her to lunch?

“Um. Well, I guess Chinese would be good. I work full-time, though.”

“That’s cool. We’ll stake the place out after the restaurant closes. The rats come out when it’s dark anyway.”

Pam squinted at the ad again. “Um… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Rescuing rats. Didn’t you say you wanted to help rescue more rats?”

“Well, yes, but I thought we’d be liberating them from a lab. I thought I could help with that.”

Rat Girl laughed.

“No. Though that would be cool. But I’m not into the whole breaking-and-entering-getting-arrested thing. I just save the rats that I find by the dumpsters.”

“Rats by the dumpsters?”

“Yes. They’re the ones that need good homes. Not that the lab rats don’t, but at least they’re in out of the cold and not getting tossed into the back of a garbage truck.”

Pam stared at the ad in front of her. She should have known that the person who submitted it was crazy. She wasn’t even sure how to respond. Her sense of rat injustice dissipated. Crazy people rescued rats. What had she been thinking? The woman on the other end of the phone continued talking as Pam slowly lowered the phone into its cradle. She vowed never to answer a crazy ad again, crumpled up the newspaper and dropped it into the trash.