Ratbastard is a new regular presence in my life. Has arrived, I believe, to teach me powerful new lessons in the kind of assertiveness that brooks no opposition. He requires that I maintain full, absolute ownership of the space I now occupy.
He is nocturnal and extremely intelligent. Also pointy-faced and vindictive when thwarted. I sense that he has dangerous and deeply rooted self-esteem issues, is possibly in exile from his family (since they are nowhere to be seen), and so is really seeking love and belonging, in his bass-ackward way. He’s a young adult, reckless and angry. I am a middle-aged woman with a broken toe. I’ve developed a mean bark and the certainty that I can and will use a 2-by-4 to drive home my point. If necessary. I do hope it does not come to this.
Ratbastard and I are embarking on a journey that will eventually end in truce or death (his). I can and will out-persist him.
NOTE: I have nothing whatsoever against either rats, or bastards, in fact I have good friends who hail from both species. The name RATBASTARD was the first that came to mind as I chased my troubled trouble friend away from the window screen he was attempting to open. A satisfying name to yell when defending territory.
Rain is all you can hear when in comes in torrents. After three grateful, introspective days of it this place is richer, greener, kinder. Plants have appeared where there were only rocks and a skiff of soil before, and the spiders are back to their abundant net-working.
Ratbastard has not come by for four nights now. I wish him well. I also persist in my wish not to see him again.
After an interesting day-surgery experience yesterday which required much preparation over the weekend, I’m back at my work: collaborating with this place, reading, drawing and deepening the final research inquiry for my Masters.
I don’t think I could feel happier than I do in this moment.