But it wasn't a rat

Several days ago, I put some cherry bark to soak in a bucket of water on the back porch. I'd read that you could get a nice pink from it (for dyeing) and one source I read indicated that soaking it was all you had to do. Surely there must be more to it because that bark had soaked and soaked and no color was to be had. I checked every time I passed by it as I crossed the back porch. 

As I was heading towards the barn this morning I peered at my bucket of bark as usual. [Sorry, I'm realizing I should include a warning here. If you happen to be eating while you're reading this, stop right here, right now, and come back later. Really. I'll add some spaces just to be sure.
















Alright, back to my story. I peered in and something didn't seem quite right. There was a weird bubbly thing on top and my mind immediately decided I had let it soak too long and it was molding. I didn't want a bucket of mold growing in my back porch so I carried the bucket to a rocky but of the yard that we still don't quite know what to do with and dumped my bucket of bark out. Except that it wasn't just bark I dumped, nor was it mold, but a dead, drowned rat came out as well.

I. Do. Not. Like. Rats. 

I didn't even enjoy the cartoon Ratatouille I dislike them so much. Rats in any form are a hard no. With this in inind, I want you to be very, very impressed that I did not scream right there. I did not want to add H. and R. to the whole thing. Instead, I leave the vicinity of the rat as quickly as possible while calling J., who was already at work, on the phone.

J.: Hello?
E.: Gross! Gross! Gross! Gross! Gross! Gross! Gross! There was a dead rat in the bucket with the cherry bark!!

A pause 

J.: A rat?
E.: (still a little emotional with the volume control stuck on loud) Yes! And it was disgusting!
J.: (With a sound of relief) I thought you were sobbing and that one of the horses had died. Are you sure it was a rat?
E.: The horses are fine (with many horse noises in the background because I'm in the barn talking on the phone and not giving them breakfast). It was definitely a rat.
J.: Could it have been a chipmunk?
E.: No! It's too big for a chipmunk and it has a pointy about and a long tail. 

More discussion as to the type of animal it was. We left it that he could see the rat for himself when he got home because I wasn't going anywhere near it, so J. got to look underneath this bucket when he got home.


And...

It was a chipmunk.
Stripes.
No long tail.
Definitely a chipmunk.

But I swear it was much larger and much rattier when it came out of that bucket this morning. 

I still don't like rats.

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