Rat in the Tank

My eight-year-old son came running into the house.  "Mama, there's a rat in the tank!"

"What?" I asked.  "Where?  What tank?"

"The one outside, where the frog and tadpoles used to live."

Oh.  That one.  For a minute I was worried it was our fish tank or our African Clawed Frog's tank.  "Is it alive or dead?" I asked.

"Dead."

"So what are you going to do with it?"

My son shrugged his shoulders.  "Nothing."

"Okay."  I picked up a load of laundry and took it upstairs.

Bubba followed me.  "But, Mama, aren't you going to do anything about it?"

I shook my head.  "Not my department."

(So, ladies and gentlemen, how long do you think the dead rat will remain floating in that tank?)