Can't Handle the Dead

Truth be told, I love animals. I hopelessly fall under the spell of any puppydog eye (given that it actually came from a dog), and I just can't seem to get away from any species, except spiders, because I'm super arachnophobic. I can handle snakes, lizards, praying mantises, dogs, cats, turtles, doves, fish, rodents, and the like. But something that involved and animal, our home and the dead opened my eyes to two verses that I like. 

Here at home, we have had a serious rodent problem for a while. The rat's been chewing off some of our things and hoarding pencils, batteries, and other small objects behind the microwave oven, not to mention the occasional food robbery. 

        Last night,  I (finally) decided to set up the mouse trap for little Whiskers (the mouse’s nick). It was a real conflicting experience for me coz I knew I was going to kill something that had a face, but if I had to choose between having my closet raided and demolished by a mouse and setting up the trap, then setting up the trap wins hands down. Besides, God gave humans authority over animals ("whew!"). 

        So last night, I set up the trap and placed it near the microwave oven, and just left it there. At midnight, while watching TV, we (the family), heard a loud snap in the kitchen. I knew exactly what the sound was, and the three of us (me, mom, and brother) rushed toward the kitchen and saw what got caught in the miniature bear trap. I tell you, it wasn't a mouse that got caught, but a big, fat, R.A.T. (rodent accountable for turmoil)! I have no problems whatsoever with rats (except ones with rabies), but when I saw the thing, squirming around with all that is left of its strength to free its head from the trap, I honestly didn't know how to react. All I knew that there was a vermin in on the counter, dying. We all just decided to wait until Whiskers finally laid down his life. 

        So a few minutes passed, and we finally decided to take the little (and by little, I mean freakishly huge rat) guy out. When we approached the dead thing, it turns out that none of us wanted to do the job. I had no idea what was in my family's minds, but all I knew was that someone had to do it, but nobody wanted to. I can honestly handle most anything BUT spiders and the dead! I really hate it if I'm made to bury or throw away a dead animal (e.g. cat, chicken, toad) that died in our yard, especially if the carcass was swarming with flies and smelled like rotting flesh.

         Anyway, going back to the subject, we took turns using the garden tongs to relocate the trap and the mouse. My mom went first, and was only able to move it a few inches closer to the edge of the counter. I took my turn, but I noticed that the moment I tried to do the job, I couldn't move my arm. Only my hands were alive at that moment, so I suggested that I would be the one to control my hands, while she was to one to control my arm, and it worked! We placed Whiskers in an orange plastic and decided to throw him out the next day and placed him somewhere outside the house.

         Okay, so on the next day, when my mom headed out the door with two other plastic bags covering her hands, I knew exactly what was on her mind. We had to separate the dead rat from the trap before we had to throw him out. My mom tried to separate Whiskers from the trap but was unable to because when she opened the hinged part of the trap, it took the rat's face along with it, so she panicked! So that neither of us would be able to see the dead rat, we placed it back in the plastic. My mom would open up the trap while I held the dead rat from outside the plastic. Everything felt numb. To top it off, I got a glance at his blood! Maybe I just watch a little too much horror movies, or sci-fi, I just don't know. All I knew a while ago was the situation freaked me out.

         I asked help from God, thinking, "God, please help us with this!" After that, nothing felt different, and I felt like I didn't have any access to God's presence, but I had to believe that He was there. I even thought, "Oh sure, leave us alone while we handle the dead rat. Thanks for the help!" (hahahah), but I knew He never left.

         Eventually, we got his bloody head out of the trap, and placed him in three plastic bags and placed him somewhere where we will never have to see him again. Bye bye Whiskers!

         The little shenanigan taught me a little something. It's that "for the sake of His great name the Lord will not reject His people, because the Lord was pleased to make you His own (1Sam12:22)." God "loves us too much (Hosea11:8b)" to leave us in fear.

('~')v