It's Not a Dog

     Several years ago an Ithaca College freshman saw a car hit an animal on Route 13 near the airport. She slowed down and stopped her car on the shoulder. The driver who hit the animal continued on.
     The animal lay on the side of the highway in slushy snow. The girl walked near it and examined it. It wasn't bleeding. The small animal opened and closed its eyes but was unable to move.
     This is an adorable but strange-looking little dog, the student thought. It looks like it was stunned when hit. I'll carry it back to the dorm, take care of it, feed it.
     She picked it up and put it in her car, then proceeded to her dorm. It was dark when she arrived, so she had little trouble smuggling the animal into her dorm room. Her roommate wasn't there, which made it easier. She was excited.
     She tried to feed it some lunch meat but it wasn't hungry. She held a saucer of water near its mouth but it wasn't thirsty. Then she wrapped it in a towel and put it in her bed.
     When her roommate entered the room, the owner of the animal at first tried to hide it but shortly the secret was out and the animal was observed by a different set of eyes.
     "It doesn't look like a dog," the roommate said.
     "Well, it is!" replied the girl defensively.
     "No, it isn't," said the roommate.
     "Yes, it is!" insisted the girl.
     To settle the argument, the roommate got some friends to look at the animal and form a collective judgment.
     "It has a very long nose," said one girl. "I don't know what it is, but it's not a dog." The other girls made similar observations and remarks.
     The prospective pet owner began to cry. Her roommate suggested that the Residence Assistant might know if it was a dog, and what breed it was. So the RA was brought into the room.
     The RA was an older student who had been a restaurant waitress for 20 years. When she entered the room, the girls stopped arguing and were silent. All you could hear was the sniffling and sobbing of the owner of the animal.
     "Where is it?" the RA demanded. Her voice was as loud as a trumpet blast.
     All of the girls, except the owner of the animal, pointed to the bed.
     The young pet owner was propped up in her bed as the RA came forward and bent down to touch the mysterious animal. After a brief examination, the RA stood up and said:
     "It's not a dog. It's an injured rat. It can't stay here!"
     The disappointed pet owner immediately gushed with tears. For consolation, the RA added:
     "Take heart, honey, it's not the last rat you'll sleep with."