MEMOIRS OF A SCAVENGER (Requiem For A Rodent)
PrologueTaken from the teachings of my late brothers, I have learned many things. I have also practiced their theories and managed to learn much more than they had hoped. I too have passed on this knowledge to the younger ones in the nesting grounds, with unremarkable success.
I fear at times, watching some of them scurry out of our shelter to never return, that the knowledge I have passed on will die as each of one of us perishes as well. When I had momentarily separated from my mentors, this most likely must have also been their fear. Each one of them must have ceased to exist with a despair that their collection of knowledge were in vain.
Their own histories have been erased, as our means of communication were limited to the importance of our present survival. My communication has somewhat advanced, but I still can not articulate what I want outside of the basics animal needs.
It is for this reason -- along with the fear of of my children's death and my last moments of breath -- that I feel I should communicate my learnings, to pass on for future generations.
The words that are written are ideas and culled directly from my mind; my memories and my thoughts. It is with of utmost confidence that Ingmar Black, who is penning this in my absence of verbal comprehension (in the human form) and opposable thumbs, can somehow communicate with my fellow "rats", as he has supposedly titled us, when I pass.
IngmarI am currently writing after Cecil had passed on and might I fucking say I am still in a state of surrealistic mindfuckery at this moment. I had decided to put this into the prologue to serve as an introduction to the rats I will attempt to communicate with, as it is now my duty as a messenger to (sic) Cecil.
Let me introduce myself. My name is Ingmar Black and I am in shock right now. Holy shit. He had no name, but we compromised with Cecil. The names of fellow rats have been created because of the simple fact that you do not call each other names for obvious reasons.
Cecil and you all have been nesting in my house for quite awhile now. We've put out rat traps, but the success rate was below-average in all honesty and now that I've heard his story I somewhat understand.
My roommate Dave and I have been somewhat skeptical about the use of coagulated poisons or use of other hazardous chemicals in regards to vermin control. For this reason, we contacted Lake Tahoe's Wildlife Control for information about driving rodents from the house, without actually killing them. You can say I am what people tend to refer as a hippy, so in that sense you should feel very lucky that his one chance for a conduit was me. Unfortunately, my roommate Dave isn't. He persuaded me to just sneak in about a pebble-sized amount of LD-50 into specific locations for you to find and eat.
Unfortunately, this is where Cecil comes in. Miraculously, I heard him. And he heard me. It was not as if we spoke the same words, but we understood each other. When I had informed him of what was inside the crumbs of bread he had nibbled on, he was very lucid and accepting. This, at around 3 a.m., was when asked me to deliver his message to you because of the fact we were able to communicate.
By communication, it was all mental wavelengths and I was able to translate it into my language.
With this out of the way, I would like to relay his tale and his vastless knowledge accumulated through experience in order to help you guys out and one day maybe you can reach an understanding, man-to-rat. We have a lot more in common than you think.
