Sunday, November 16, 2008

The Penthouse Suite

So yesterday I was sitting in my living room enjoying a re-read of Diana Gabaldon's Outlander when there's a bit of commotion on the roof and near the fireplace area. A kaboom, scratch, scratch, boom kind of noise. I think, "Hmm... well that certainly sounds like something is now in the fireplace or wall." I go outside and peer at the roof. Nothing but roof. Deep breaths. Happy thoughts. Be brave. I stand silently in my living room and listen to scratch, scratch, thumpity-thump, scratch, scratch. Well, that's not good is it?

I have two entries to attic areas so I choose the entry where I can turn the light on inside the house. Smart move, right? And, I bring along a little flashlight. I'm waiting for some squeaking vermin to jump on me with his hungry little teeth and take a bite out of my face. I get to the top of the ladder and keep crawling up. Flashing the light to the dark corners of the attic area, I realize like the dumb ass I truly am that my attic goes all the way across and I can see where I store my holiday decorations on the side. It's dark over there but I can hear that scratching noise of four little feet. Something jumps up and makes some really loud scratching noise on the duct pipe but being the total wuss that I am, I retreat screaming something like, "EEEWWWW!" And close that trap door as fast as I can. I'm convinced I saw a rat but to be completely honest, in my freaked out state, I couldn't pick him out of line-up.

I grab the phone and call the Beeny's. What do I do? It's decided that rat poison is my best option. A quick trip to Lowes and I've purchased a big box of those little poison bait boxes. I hope the little bastard is hungry. But of course, now, Ms. Scary Pants has to put the poison up there.... deep breaths, happy thoughts. I can do this. I turn the light on in the in house attic area and go the garage access area. I make a ton of noise with the trap door. Pulling it down and slamming it closed. I'm coming up! I just go far enough to put the poison up there. Repeat on the other door.

I think all the noise scared him because I didn't hear from him for a while. Then there was the scratchity-scratch, thump, thump, boom, scratch noises. I try to endure it so the little rat bastard can get to the poison and have a little feast. Of course, the box and the Internet inform me that the little buggers are weary of new food supplies so it may take him a couple of days for him to eat it. Well, that's not acceptable.

I make it through the night dreaming of lions. They'll eat that rat bastard! But first thing this morning, scratchity scratch. Guess who's up?

My mom had a rat penetrate her home when she had the kitchen remodeled so when she didn't return my call from Saturday, I called her cell phone. She informs me the poison will do no good and I should get a trap. I think about this after we hang up. This means than I will need to go back into the attic. I've started talking to the little rat bastard, "Stay away from my decorations." and "Did you have a good breakfast, you little rat bastard?"

Rat-Bastard- my new favorite word.

I decide- no, I cannot handle this on my own. And I can do a lot of things on my own. I can paint, assemble, lift heavy objects, and such but this rat bastard needs a man to come and evict his ass. I start calling pest controls numbers. The first one to answer on a Sunday has my business.

The third company I call answers first. Doug tells me he thinks it might be a squirrel because you don't usually hear rats during the day. I think, "Oh, I can maybe handle a squirrel." I mean they're cute carrying nuts around in their mouths with their fluffy little tails. I think about my little buddies that I watch running around our office (which by the way, the landscapers are trying to get rid of.) I think about Karyn from Pretty in the City and her little squirrel visitor. Doug informs me that the little rat squirrel bastards will do more damage than a rat bastard. When can you be here? Today? Now? No, not today. Damn! Jason, aka Super Hero rat-squirrel bastard Evictor, will call me first thing in the morning. Doug asks what time? You know what- I will get my non-morning loving ass out of bed at the crack of dawn and fix SHRSBE breakfast and coffee if we will come as early as possible. What's your first appointment? No time was established but SHRSBE will call me first thing in the morning.

What does that little rat squirrel bastard expect? Does he think he can just move into the penthouse suite without submitting references, a credit check or putting down a deposit? I think not! And now I'm not just happy with him moving out. I want him dead. You know he's been on the rat-squirrel bastard phone to all his buddies telling them about his new pad! "Come on over. You can crash with me. There's plenty of room!" I saw Ratatouille! Those little bastards travel in packs. Someone needs to tell him about my "No Pet" policy!

Okay, so I have to live another 18 hours with the little rat-squirrel bastard having a party in the penthouse suite and hope that in that time period he doesn't chew through something important, invite anymore friends over, have any babies or figure a way how to penetrate into my living quarters until Critter Control shows up tomorrow morning.

I can just see that little rat-squirrel bastard soaking in a jacuzzi (aka the drip pan from the ac) chewing on my little poison pellets getting high saying, "WHEW! JACKPOT!"

Little rat-squirrel bastard.

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