Good-bye to Lab Rats
Beth held the box close against her chest, feeling the small vibrations from the rats running back and forth inside. A dozen lives, the last of her test subjects, were about to be ordained into a brave new world they had never known.
She stepped outside of the lab and down the gravel path. She could feel the crisp air of Boulder with each breath and the feel of the unsteady rocks beneath her boots. With each step, she went deeper into the trees growing wildly at the foot of the Flatirons. She could smell the pine assailing her nostrils, a welcome change from the sterile air of the lab.
She wondered what other scientists across the country were doing, if they were also leaving their labs. The FARM Act of 2028 had changed the landscape of biomedical research. Her grad school research, focused on the intricacies of organ-on-a-chip technology paired with microfluidics had finally reached its moment in the sun. When paired with new bioinformatic AI models, it meant the long-standing cruelty of animal testing had become obsolete, even banned in many cases.
The question became what to do with the specimens currently being used. The government had mandated they be decommissioned, but did not specify how. When humane euthanasia had suggested, her colleagues complied without question, but Beth balked at the idea. If they were trying to move past the cruelty of animal testing, how could she justify ending the lives of these final twelve? Didn’t they deserve a little more than that?
There was a small spot in the woods she had found a week prior. Wild plum bushes sat in a circle, in-between cottonwoods. The large slabs of the Flatirons were just beyond, staring over the clearing like giants. It was the perfect spot for a new beginning.
She knelt down in the cool, slightly damp moss and placed the box carefully down in front of her. The cardboard had managed to hold up despite the frantic pacing of the rats inside. She wondered what they must be thinking, must be feeling right now. Could they even comprehend what was happening?
She slowly peeled back the duct tape hastily placed over the flaps and opened the box. She was hit by the familiar musky odor of animal bedding and life. She knew she’d miss that smell. All twelve pairs of beady pink eyes looked up at her at the same time from the dim interior.
“This is it,” she whispered to them, realizing she was holding back tears. “I know you don’t see me as very much. Just the person who brought you food and changed your bedding. But I know you. I know all of you. You’re far more than simple specimens for us to run experiments on. Duncan, I know how you always come at your water bottle from behind. Felicity, I know how much you love to groom the others, even if they don’t like it.”
She let out a choking laugh as a tear slid down her cheek. “All of you lived a harsh life. You were born in plastic boxes, spent your life under bright fluorescent lights, and never felt the world just a few feet outside. I am so, so sorry for that. But that’s all over now. It is time for you to enjoy life.”
She tipped the box on its side, folding back the flaps to create a gentle ramp down to the grass.
“This is the last time I will see you,” she murmured, swallowing hard. “You are free now. There are no more cages or tests. It’s up to you now. Go, be happy. Live long lives and enjoy the sun on your backs.”
The rats were hesitant to leave the safety of the box. One crept up to the edge and stuck its nose out, sniffing the unfamiliar air with a twitching whisker. She couldn’t know what was most sensational to it. Was it the scent of the leaves? The wild fruits? It placed a paw on the grass slowly, as if testing the texture. Then it put down nother paw. When it looked up at the vastness of the sky, it froze.
Then, as if everything clicked into place, it darted into the grass and out of her sight.
Another followed behind. Then a third. None of them were especially brave. Their stares up at the bright sun in the sky caught them all off-guard, but they proceeded to scurry out into the grass. Beth felt proud at this final act to liberate them, as if it made up for all the years of captivity they had endured.
There was just one left inside. The runt of the litter, Duncan, who had always been withdrawn. Beth held her breath as he cautiously approached the edge. He turned her head, looking at her with small eyes and uncertain thoughts. Then as it stepped out into the grass, a shadow suddenly passed overhead.
Beth looked up, expecting to see a cloud. Instead, a red-tailed hawk had started circling with a fierce look on its face. Its wings were spread wide with a wild brilliance.
The hawk suddenly folded its wings and entered into a fast dive and stretched its sharp talons forward. If she hadn’t seen it, she would not have heard it. It was only from its sharp shriek that she even realized what was happening.
With a rush of air across her face, the feathery blur snatched Duncan from the grass with a soft thud and then immediately took off to the sky again. She heard a single squeak from her beloved rat that was cut short.
The hawk soared high into the sky with Duncan still clutched in its talons. The remaining rats had already scurried out of sight, driven away by a primal instinct that had just activated for the first time.
Beth remained on her knees, still in shock by the sudden violence that had ruined her perfect moment. She could feel the sun on her face, but it no longer had the warmth of a moment before. The wild was not going to be a gentle sanctuary for them. It would just be yet one more trial of survival with different, deadlier predators.
She grabbed the box and stood up as her vision grew blurry. Her joints ached as she looked in the now empty cardboard container. She realized her earlier speech needed a revision.
“Good luck,” she whispered, hoping they heard her.
She turned and made her way back through the trees, already unfolding the box so it could be recycled.