This rat population relied on illegal means to survive; their main activities being stealing food from the kitchen and gnawing through various parts of the house.

The other night, a huge rat in search of food in the kitchen got stuck in the trap I’d placed under the table.

The unfortunate rattard probably didn’t see the danger and stepped unknowingly into its demise.

I heard squealing from the kitchen so knew I had caught a thief.

But when I saw it, I couldn’t bring myself to kill it so let it go and watched as it dragged itself into the hole in the wall with glue plastered all over its fur.

Undeterred, its relatives raided the kitchen later that night and ate into our bag of rice.

That made me both mad as hell and regret freeing that thief. These other guys were smart and carefully evaded the trap.

Then tonight, another rat – a big one - got stuck in the trap.

I was outside the house but I could hear it squealing as it struggled to free itself.

I grabbed a long piece of wood and ran into the house to where the trap was and there it was – four legs and a tail stuck in the glue.

I noticed it was a male as its big balls were hanging out.

I thought, well, no time for empathy, I let one go yesterday and I’m killing this one tonight to teach rats a lesson.

No one should get away with raiding my kitchen.

As I was about to plant the wood firmly on his back, he rat stared at me with a ‘have mercy please’ look.

I was about to surrender and set it free but felt a sudden surge of cold anger as I remembered the times he and his criminal friends had stolen food from our kitchen and gnawed through our belongings.

And with the words ‘crime does not pay’ ringing in my ears, I struck at him with a blow that broke his back. The poor bastard gave a faint squeal and died.

I stood over his lifeless corpse feeling like a big man having killed a thief. But that sense of pride soon evaporated and was replace by guilt. Indeed, a great feeling of guilt.

I had killed a defenceless rat, where was the honour in that?

It was like kicking a man while down or shooting a man who is blindfolded or stabbing a man with his arms tied behind his back (none of which I have done in real life).

I felt like a coward. The rat couldn’t defend himself. An overwhelming sadness crept over me as I thought about his circumstances.

He must have had a family. He probably was a hardworking father just grinding an existence so he could feed his family.

And here I was - the ass who had killed the provider and head of a family now defenceless and helpless.

I suppose his family heard his squealing, I thought. I expect mother told the children to cover their rat ears so as not to hear their dad’s suffering.

I knew in his final moments this rat had his in family in mind - that faint squeal before moving on to the afterlife.

Anyway, if there’s a rat paradise, he’s probably there munching on a big piece of cheese or chicken. And he probably walked on grains of rice on the highway to rat paradise.

Maybe the squeals had been a warning to his family to keep away from the sticky stuff with food on it under the table.

It was shame that I felt. Poor creature, he had a long life to live, probably had enough sperm in him to produce another thousand rats. But I took that opportunity away from him.

He probably had mad genes to produce a rat who would one day invent a machine to enslave the human race and rule us.

The guilt led me to gently pick him up and cover him with a sheet of A4 paper.

I carried him outside and, right beside the flower garden, dug a shallow grave and gave him a burial fitting for a professional hustler.

I sensed that his family was watching from a safe distance as I lay him to rest.

Advice to rats: I hope none of you get caught in the trap, stay in your holes or avoid the glue if you do come out and wander around.

I do not want to take a life; I’m not a barbarian or a savage. I was not cut out for taking a life. Rats, do not put me in such a situation.

Maybe I should join the Jain religion that practices the principles of non-violence and respect for all living things.

I don’t want to kill anybody’s father, mother or son. There must be kinder, gentler lands free of carnage where all creatures of nature can coexist peacefully.

And to the rat tribe that lost a family member tonight, I know you’re in mourning and probably plotting revenge. Some of you are likely reading this post. I know what you’re capable of.

I’ve watched Ratatouille and Flushed Away and other movies involving rats.

I know you’re capable of doing things we humans do.

I know you’re also on Facebook. Read this post and take precautions.