nice try, but no cigar

I think that’s a phrase.

The rat wriggled himself free of the moustrap in which he lay.

He then proceeded to eat the mound of peanut butter off of the “sticky trap” and escape through one of the 2 available exits.

Tuesday morning: “the saga continues” (as all good sagas do!)  Jean and I got up and read the note from early-bird Sarah who had discovered the empty trap.  We feel sad, tired, and sort of guilty for not “finishing the job” of the night before.  I also feel very very strongly that we should involve the landlord and the exterminators in this process.  I call Pitor, our landlord who spells his name, as Jean says, “the fancy way.”  He apologizes profusely and calls the exterminator for us.

Not really wanting to be in the kitchen, we hop in the car with PJs on and go to McD’s for breakfast.  Upon returning and beginning to eat in the playroom/den which I dub “the breakfast room”, we hear a knock at the door and our demi-hero of the day appears to assist us.  The exterminator is not necessarily surprised that the rat didn’t die from the mousetrap, and he can’t put poison out arbitrarily into holes and under cabinets.  He sets out some new sticky traps for us, with just a dab of peanut butter right in the middle, gives us his cell phone number and calls it a day.  Willing to come dispose of the rat dead or alive if captured again– I saved this number in my phone.

Perhaps the rat was mortally wounded and went away to die in peace?  Or is he angry, bruised and planning revenge? Will Pitor ever come to fix the hole behind our stove?  Stay tuned.  Or not.  In truth, it’s not that big of a deal, and I know this.  But it’s been fun to write.

• Pest Trivia:
• What we could have done is put one of our sticky traps on top of the waylaid rat, so he couldn’t escape.
• or call someone brave to come help.
• Our exterminating friend has never been bitten, but HE HAS BEEN CHARGED BY A RAT!
• that rodents are scared of new things in their environment was confirmed (in my head I used the word xenophobe again, it’s just too rich not to!)
• Argument: If we saw a stray kitten in the kitchen, we wouldn’t want to snap it’s neck.  Answer: Because kittens can belong in kitchens and households, whereas rats carry diseases, bite people, eat your food, make a mess and run out and startle people.  (This logic is brought to you by Verna)

What Would PETA Do?

Tonight is the beginning of the end of what I will hereto call “the rat saga.”  It seems I am experiencing several ongoing problems at once- situations that continue to unravel, solutions thwarted by a turn of events, a seemingly simple desire developing into an epic story… (e.g. the Mac saga:  Now that it’s resolved, I’m just happy to say I am now a proud owner of an “old” MacBook 13″ aluminum case that is pretty much the same as the “new” MacBook PRO 13″… $100 cheaper)

We work pretty hard around here to keep a nice home.  The 4 of us share our housekeeping responsibilities and generally do a fine job of it.  

Enter the rodent.  The rodent isn’t interested in whether there is dust on the mantle or smudges on the glass.  He doesn’t even care if the shower has mildew or the carpet is vacuumed.  Compelled by a sharp sense of smell and a wily ability to chew through pretty much any obstruction, the rodent- in our case, a rat- seeks out the leftover crumbs, grease stains and kitchen-sink fare of the human household. 

At the end of last summer, one of my dear roommates was minding her own business in the den when a rat scampered across the room, right past her feet, and into a storage space.  We had the landlords apologizing and convincing us that it was a domesticated rat, escaped from the cage of a med student of last year’s lease.  A-Active came to put out some poison and gave us some sticky pads, along with a warning that “rats and mice are known xenophobes: they are wary of anything new in their environment, so it takes a while for these to work”   After that we didn’t see any more droppings or chewed-through boxen of food. End of story?

(a saga is bound to go over the 300 word limit; my apologies)

Enough exposition. I’ll give it to you as simply as I can:

Tuesday night: Erica, sleeping at our place in order to avoid her houses’ infestation of cockaroaches, goes down to get a drink of water and sees a rat who disappears behind the stove.  

Wednesday morning: Kristen google-searches “rat in house” and comes up with a helpful guide; forwards it to roommates and alerts them of the return of the rodent.  Puts flour in front of the rat’s exit points on either side of the stove. 

Thursday night: Sarah R goes into the kitchen circa 10pm and sees the rat; screams; Kristen runs downstairs to investigate, gets to watch the rat skitter around, attempting to run behind the stove but intimidated by the flour, turns around and scampers into a gap by the dishwasher.  

Erica and Kristen construct a blockade by the kitchen door, Sarah and Jean go to buy rat traps.

Friday:  A-Active says landlord has to make the appointment, landlord doesn’t answer phone or return email. 

Friday night: no sign of rat on sticky pad/traps.  Moved both to the stove “entrances.” 

Saturday night: Another rat-sighting.  Sarah and Kristen pull the dishwasher out to investigate, make good use of the flashlight/weapon to find a hole behind the stove.  Great detective work.

Sunday night:  Jean returns from visiting parents with a snapping mouse trap.  All are convinced it is too small, but set it out anyways, making good on a promise made to Marv.  Place it in front of the dishwasher “entrance”

2o mins later, Sunday night: Kristen goes down to deposit water into the sink, sees rat laying still, in trap.  Goes up to Jean for moral support.  Calls Mom.  Cries a little bit.  Mom tells Kristen that animals don’t have souls, this is how God intended it, think of all the little sheep that had to die for our sin… Kristen sobs.  

Decide it’s best to care for the early bird-Sarah and cover from sight or remove.  Going down to the kitchen with a large shoebox, discussing strategy, they see the rat swish it’s tail.  Then it tries to pick up its head.  Freak out a little bit inside.  Decide to cover up.  Brave up, say a prayer, put a box over it.  Hope that it dies quickly.

So it’s not over yet, but we’ve reached the resolution and it should all be downhill from here.

Yet there’s processing to be done: as a child growing up in Key West with Free Willy, Fern Gully, and Earth Day.  Living near the PETA headquarters for 15 years.  How can I honestly deal with this?