sometime after midnight, we arrived home with three rat traps and a brown bag of leftover pizza. giggly from the two dollar pints, we spread peanut butter on the traps and not before devin snapped her finger so badly that we has to run it under cool water, set them at various locations between the kitchen and the mantel.

in the morning, i met my new pet rat. bon jovi was crushed at the neck with his beady black eyes bulging up towards heaven, or maybe just the water heater, his long tail hanging over the edge of the counter top. christening him posthumously seemed the right move, especially since he had died for my bait-- small pieces of overripe strawberry with which i had crowned the peanut butter globs. strangely, the berry bit was nowhere to be found, even when we removed him and scoured the kitchen. either he snagged it before springing the trap, or, pinned, in the few moments before his death, he'd thought, 'might as well, while im here' and finished the morsel. it seems logical, though i feel rodent anxiety and shock should have precluded his appetite. it doesn't matter. being a bit squeamish, i took off for work and let devin wrap and freeze him for later taxidermy.