While running this evening, a large rat skittered across the street and crossed my path. I watched its massive, dark body easily hop over the curb and into the bushes lining the street.

A few months ago, I was walking towards the hospital along with the small mob of people who had crossed the street with me. The morning sunlight streaming through the the branches of the trees overhead captured my attention and, after an appreciative glance, I returned my gaze towards the sidewalk. I became lost in my thoughts.

However, I was still aware enough to eavesdrop upon the two ladies conversing behind me.

“Good morning,” the first woman said.

“Good morning; how are you?” the second woman responded.

“I’m doing good—it’s Wednesday and there’s only two more days until Friday!” First Woman said.

“Thank God,” Second Woman replied. Their conversation soon turned to weekend plans and my attention began to drift to other things.

“… there it is,” I soon heard First Woman remark. “Oh, it’s going to cross, it’s going to cross—”

What is she talking about? I lazily wondered. She sounded excited.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!!” First Woman screamed.

This was the kind of scream that causes flocks of birds to take flight, dogs to howl, glass to shatter, and deities to wince.

The moment she started to scream, I felt something against my foot and instantaneously understood why she was in distress.

As my left leg completed its swing and gently launched my left foot into the air, I had kicked the large rat that was running across the sidewalk. I felt the mass bounce off of my shoe and then saw the rodent. It quickly regained its balance and continued to scurry across the sidewalk. I only saw was its dark, furry body lurch away from me and its pale, long tail quickly trail behind it. By the time my left foot hit the ground again, the rodent—it was larger than my foot—had disappeared.

Meanwhile, the woman had finally stopped screaming. I turned around to ensure that she was no longer in distress. Second Woman was trying not to laugh.

The small mob of people who were around us were also smirking.

“The rats here are really domesticated,” Second Woman commented. “They’re just not scared of people anymore.”

“You got that right,” First Woman said after a beat. “I’m not used to seeing them in broad daylight like this….”

Meanwhile, the area of my foot that had thumped the rat was still sensing the hefty mass of the rodent. I shook my foot a little bit with hopes that the sensation would go away.