The ongoing critter saga

I am back. I took yesterday off as I was drained, physically and emotionally. It is not what you think, which is way too bad (smutty minds, all of you). Anyway, I have the critter follow up to deal with today. Now, let me begin by saying I wish it were a mouse. The answer to Feb. 20th's personal trivia question as to my favorite Stranglers album, Rattus Norvegicus. That is what we have here, rattus norvegicus, I think it is neat that these Latin names are to be typed in italics, or Norway rat. How the fuckers got here from Norway, I do not know, nor do I care. I am thinking that it has something to do with that rat bastard Quisling.

As an aside, and a history lesson, Quisling was the leader of Norway who allied himself with Hitler and Nazi Germany in World War II, like Vichy France. At least the Danes, on the border with Germany, were occupied. Quisling sold his country out to the forces of evil. I agree it is a bit of a simplification but I do not have time for moral nuances here, right now. Call me and we can discuss the whole thing over some beers, vodka or Jaggermeister.

Anyway, I had not seen any evidence of the poison bait being eaten by the washing machine. I could hear something behind the front wall in the basement bathroom on Friday night, though. I was not pleased. I decided that I needed a more aggressive strategy. I would have to lay some bait/poison in the closet under the basement stairs. This is basically a door that closed in the stairs under the side door. It is uninsulated and smell musty, like a good, old basement should and does in these parts.

Now, I forgot to mention that my wife still thinks it is a mouse. She cannot bring herself to think otherwise. I, as is my wont, am too honest. I never say "mouse" and have been known to say "what makes you think it is a mouse?" to which I get that look of horror. You know that look on somebody's face when they really start to think of any and all possible, usually negative, possibilities.

Back to the story. I find a small, styrofoam dessert plate (I am so classy). I crush up the bait, put it on the plate and put it all on a plastic lid of some sort on a shelf in this closet, that contains coats (hanging), old boots and the luggage. Sunday, I go to check on it and it is all gone. I mean all gone, the bait and the plate. I am thinking what is this little fucker doing? Is there a family with which it is sharing? Why would it take the plate? Was the plate eaten as well? All these questions with no answers, since I was not crawling in there, besides there is not enough light to really see, so I had to use a flashlight to guide me.

I got another plate and put out more poison on Sunday. On Monday, I check and the bait is gone, presumably eaten, but the plate remains. I find the first plate on the floor, though and fish it out. I bait again on Tuesday. I start to use the flashlight only to find that there are some big droppings on the floor. I need more bait and get it. There are two feedings on Wednesday, though when I open the door Tuesday, I hear scurrying. I get the luggage out of there.

I open the door this morning only to find that the plate is gone along with the bait. On the plastic lid, though there are some rat turds. How pleasant is that? I give some more and decide I should clean some of the turds off the floor of the closet. I do that and find that some of those turds are blue. Either the poison is being eaten (I did mention it is blue and that there are no blue foods before) or this rat has one fucked up digestive system that turns his turds blue. I am not sure which of these alternatives is the more pleasing one for me.

Anyway, I lay a new plate out this morning. I open the door to check on things. The plate is gone again, but a big chunk of bait that I obviously did not crush well enough is on the shelf, just behind the plastic lid with rat turds on it. I am wondering if there is a family that is being fed. If so, that is good and bad. Bad, that there are more than one of them, but good in that the poison is being fed to them all.

The stuff says it is supposed to kill them in four or five days. This is day five of certain feedings, so I am thinking we are on death watch here. The only question that time will answer has to do with smell, the smell of death and rotting away. Oh well, one problem at a time.

That is the story for today, kids, stay tuned for the grisly and smelly conclusion. Ciao!