Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a Farmer....
About six months ago, I bought a small couch. Maybe I would call it a futon. Mainly for when friends come over. One night I thought I'd try it out and see how it slept. So with my blanket and pillow I bedded down for the night. Or so I thought.
A few hours into my pleasant slumber, I had a dream that I was installing insulation (something I often did for my dad while I was in high school). I was dragging the hose (through which the insulation is blown) to the attic, where we would install it. Do you know the sound of a ribbed hose being pulled around the corner of a door? If you've ever installed insulation, you should have no trouble imagining that sound. Now, imagine that sound; because that is what I awoke to (only thinking that it was in my dream). At 3am I'm not the most coherent person, so it took me several minutes to gain my bearings and realize where the noise was coming from. In the corner of my apartment, a gas pipe comes up through the floor, and to the right of this pipe is about a 1-inch gap. This is where the sound was coming from. Now, to figure out what was making the sound.
After sitting there, staring at the pipe and hole for not a few minutes, I began to see something. With my delirious eyes at 3am, I thought I saw a human finger...nah. It couldn't be. (Don't worry; it wasn't) I looked and listened more closely and finally came to the conclusion that there was simply a visitor of the rattus norvegicus (brown rat) family desiring to have lodging with me on my warm futon. It's a small futon. There wasn't room.
But what to do with him. He made nightly requests to enter, though I continued to deny his entrance (always fearing that I would offend him). I did not like to continue referring to it as "it" or "him," so one of my gracious team-members suggested a name (I believe from a children's story about a similar incident): Melchizedek. I liked it. It fit him.
But what to do with him. He made nightly requests to enter, though I continued to deny his entrance (always fearing that I would offend him). I did not like to continue referring to it as "it" or "him," so one of my gracious team-members suggested a name (I believe from a children's story about a similar incident): Melchizedek. I liked it. It fit him.
Yet after being gone from my apartment for about 6 weeks over the holiday, I heard no more from Mel. Maybe my repeated denials had finally sunk in. Maybe not. Last night as I slumbered in my warm bed, a familiar sound came to my ears. I went to see if it was he, and it was! I hated to keep this as just a national event, so I asked him if he minded if we went international. He agreed, and even consented to have his pictures posted on the blog. 
Maybe I should reconsider his requests. Three's a crowd, but two's company.
