It has been brought to my attention that we have a few house guests who are not wanted or welcomed. At first I thought it was a lost lil guy who climbed into our house from the cold or to save its life from our super cute, but dumber than dumb pit bull, Spanky. Apparently that was not the case.
We set a few mouse traps here and there and didn’t think much of it. We started finding the glue traps half way across the house or the peanut butter licked clean off the mouse trap. Around that time, I started to think that maybe the little bastard was a teenager mouse or a Grampa mouse.
The first one, I shall name Freddy was ballsy enough to scamper across the kitchen floor in front of me. I was sitting in the kitchen, staring at the floor, wondering why I was up at the ungodly hour of 6:45 am and this moving thing ran across the floor, like a fat, fluffy fluff ball and then flattened its fat little self under the stove. I almost had a heart attack. I was still bleary eyed and tired, but I wasn’t so tired I didn’t know what it was. That long spindly disgusting tail and the fat brown body. My worst fear was confirmed. We had a rat the size of a male sock ball living off MY baking.
To back up a bit, I bake all the time. Its my passion and I love it. Well, after baking, I put cookies or whatever it was in a zip lock bag and set it on the counter. At first, Spanky was jumping up with his front paws and gobbling down my baking. Found the destroyed zip lock bag and not so much as a crumb anywhere in sight and an extremely guilty looking dog before I realized it was Spanky. I started to move my baking onto the stove, at the back because Spanky was not able to reach. One morning I walk into the kitchen, excited to eat cookies for breakfast, and see a zip lock bag with the corner chewed off and crumbs everywhere… mostly over the sparkling clean and sterilized stove. Bastard!! First it ate my cookies and then it ran all over the counter and stove with its dirty, diseased feet. So between the dog food and the homemade sweets, this guy is pretty content.
Of course, I freak out and then think and obsess over it all day. I visualize killing it many different ways (my favorite was the Victor Rat Trap, and having its neck snapped), google the best way to kill them and head to Home Depot after work. I pick up some glue pads and rat traps and my loving boyfriend so kindly set the traps with some peanut butter and dog food. The first night, Freddy just pulled half the glue trap under the stove and the traps were ignored. The second night the other glue trap was pulled under the stove and the trap went off, but Freddy was nowhere to be found. He left his grimy paw prints on the sticky pad and snacked on some dog food.
We left to run errands and when we came home a few hours later, the trap was upside down and the tell-tale tail was sticking out from under the trap. The boyfriend picked up the trap and… it was a smaller gray rat! Not the huge one I saw. This was not Freddy, but Harold. Freddy was still on the loose but one of his buddies were caught. I could see the rats having a meeting under MY stove about these humans who are killing their kind.
Today, I was once again sitting in the kitchen, this time with a splitting headache from too much fun last night (4 beers to be exact) and I saw another gray one run from where the sink is to the stove, hang out half under the stove, letting its disgusting tail sit on the floor and taunt me before squeezing itself under the stove. BASTARD!! I went over and looked at the sink and realized they might be hanging out under the sink too and opened the cabinet doors and saw ANOTHER one running behind the dishwasher. Oh hell no. I uttered a sound that was more of a squawk than scream, slammed the cabinets shut, backed away quickly (careful to make sure I wouldn’t catch my toe in the other trap), picked up my purse and keys and went to Home Depot again and bought 7 rat traps and put out the green poison pellets (safe for children and animals!).
Freddy is still on the loose. Harold and Sheila have been spotted and are on my list to have their necks snapped and the gray one, I shall name Gunther just so happened to get it when he least expected it.
I am on a mission of killing. Besides setting a silly amount of traps, we started feeding the stray cat outside to keep him/her around to catch what ever might be outside. We are also going to animal shelters looking for a young cat to be our personal mouser.
The rats may be here for now… but they are not going to be here for long.