There I was the other day, waiting for the bus to Stockwell at Clapham North when something caught my eye. Bounding toward me through the grass of St Bede’s Centre for deaf people, like a two inch high antelope, was a rat. Yes. A rat. It took my quite by surprise. Looking about me, no one else waiting seemed to notice this rat, but sure enough, it was still there and heading my way.

My initial reaction was one of horror closely followed by terror and then fascination. The rat wasn’t prepping to attack me, it was shooting toward a piece of orange peel. It proceeded to grab this large chunk of orange peel – the size of its own body (it was a small rat) – in its mouth and it then began to drag it backwards across the pathway.

As I looked on, the rat backed across the pathway toward a hole in the wall. It climbed into the hole, dragged the massive bit of peel with it and then disappeared. I looked up in amazement to see that no one else at all had witnessed this amazing feat.

Later when I got to work, my friend Amy told me that orange peels actually kill rats. I felt sad for the little blighter, even if he was a mangy, flea infested, disease spreading rat. Strangely, during the following week I happened across two dead mice on pavements around the Clapham North area. I don’t say this to imply Clapham has a vermin infestation (although we probably do) but because I can’t help but think there is a connection.

Has anyone else waiting at the Clapham North bus stop seen the rat I like to call Citrus? If you have seen Citrus, let me know. To this day – admittedly it’s only been a short number of days since – I think of him. In his hole, nibbling that death laced snack and sharing it with his little furry friends.

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