Obvious to say, a bike lane is not a good place to be for a rat, especially mid-Monday morning. He’d been in some kind of collision and by the time I got to him, he’d died from internal injuries. When I lifted him up, I noticed just how big he was – all heavy and warm in my hands, his long, pink tail dangling towards the ground. I could only wonder what had caused him to come out of his shelter. I took him with me to a park nearby and buried him quietly amidst the budding bluebells.
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