Hearing critters scamper over your roof is a little unnerving at night. We have a tree next to the house and for a while, I thought it might be squirrels up there. Uh, no. Not squirrels at night. Next assumption? Another kind of rodent—a rat. Oh tell me it’s not a rat, or rats! They are not my favorite critters.
Dutifully, upon my husband’s suggestion, I called an “exterminator.” What a nasty sounding profession, huh? The guy came out and found rat droppings under our house. Yuck. He told me that we needed to put some wire over some areas that were open to the outside to keep the rats out. Meanwhile, he was going to put out some baited traps.
Now, wait a minute. Was he talking about poison? Oh yeah, he was. The exterminator explained to me that the poison was slow acting and would only work after the rats drank water. Dear God in heaven, isn’t that the most brutal thing I’ve ever heard of! Poor dear rat gets hungry and eats some bait, goes outside, gets himself a drink, and he croaks. Dead! Oh no, this isn’t going to work at all.
I want to trap the rats and then take them over to the country and release them. I think that’s the most humane way of dealing with this problem. Of course, they could also be taken to the beach, which might be kind of nice for them for a change. Because I don’t want them here doesn’t mean I want them dead! I’ve had house guests I feel exactly the same way about.
The exterminator guy kind of smirked at me and said perhaps I should have called a limousine service instead. I thanked him for his time, and told him I’d think it over. I thought it over and decided I won’t bother them if they don’t bother me.