Past Dark

It was a bad day for the wildlife of Tompkins Square Park. It started with the gassing of the rats. I didn’t know they gassed the rats. And I guess you have to do something. There are, to put it mildly, a lot of rats. It’s more rats than you think, however many you think. It’s more rats than that.

You can forget about them during the day. But at night… I don’t like walking Woody past dark. It’s not a danger thing. I should point that out. Motherfuckers who are not here keep talking about how dangerous it is here. I have never once felt unsafe, no matter the time of day or night. I have watched a group of teenagers chase a dude half a block to return the phone he left on a bench. I’ve watched 3rd Avenue come to a complete stop so a woman could catch her runaway dog.

I don’t like walking Woody at night because I’m don’t want this dog, who already treats the sidewalks as his buffet, to eat something I can’t see, or to kill a rat. But sometimes we end up out late. I’ll get busy with something, and he won’t remind of the hour. So by the time we get to the dog park that he mostly just uses as a litter box, the rats are already out. Little shadows in shadows. Trash can to park bench to rat hole. He’s mostly given up trying to catch one. Which is a shame when they run across my foot, and he does nothing at all. It’s only happened once. But once was enough.

(I just texted someone about the rats. She asked what I was doing and I said, “Writing about gassing rats.” There were follow-up questions and now there is silence.” I’m good at flirting.)

(The other text wasn’t any better but it includes a name and I can’t be bothered to edit it.)

ANYWAY.