There was a terrible smell coming from the garage this last week. Every day it got worse and worse, until I decided to take a little initiative and find the inevitable dead animal. Secretly I was hoping it was one of my weird neighbor’s cats, but immediately felt guilty thinking that since he’s a single 40-something with little or no social life and on more than one occasion I’ve caught him sitting in his front yard in full discussion with his multiple cats. Yeah, the guy can hardly speak two words to me but to the cats that continually hide in my yard he can’t shut up.
So anyway, I’m trying to develop a soul and stop hoping my neighbor’s cats are dead and I start pulling everything out of the garage. Nada (that means nothing you ignoramus). So I do the responsible thing and tell my husband the ball is in his court and it is now again his job to locate the stinking animal carcass (hopefully a cat carcass; I’m the devil). Within three minutes he discovers the dead animal (not a cat, dammit) and discovers what comes along with a stinking dead animal carcass -maggots. Loads of them. I cannot even describe how disgusting both the smell and the sight of this rat was, and not only that, but how huge it was! So gross. I sort of wish I would have taken a picture, just so that every time I was tempted by a donut or some other tasty version of a donut (I really love donuts) I could flash this nasty picture of maggot rat and immediately be relieved of any appetite. Unfortunately, I did not have that initial prompting and have already eaten one brownie and one donut today; maggot rat would have saved me the calories. Now I’m just hoping that one of my neighbor’s cats accidentally dies in my garage. This about sums up the kind of person I am.