Okay. Time to confess. We've got a rat or two or several living in our attic. We haven't met in person but we each suspect the existence of the other. Well, I'm assuming the rats suspect we exist. I mean, from time to time they must look at the crap in the attic that they're chewing their way through and figure it belongs to someone a little bigger than they are. We, on the other hand, know they exist because of the racket they make just about the time we're ready to go to sleep.
At any rate, a little rat eventually goes a long way and I called Dewey Pest Control. On Wednesday a guy named Carlos arrived with traps and a smile to assure us we would be rid of the rats in no time at all. He set two traps in the attic and said he would return Friday to remove them and their dead rats. Wednesday night I heard each of the two traps snap and imagined quick deaths. Friday Carlos was a no show. When I called him (yes, we've exchanged cell phone numbers) he explained that he had been home with the flu and sounded surprised that the assistant rat guy had not shown up to cart away the corpses.
Today not quite recovered from the flu but apparently burdened with responsibility and work ethic, Carlos crawled into the attic only to emerge rat-less.
"All rats are smart," he said, shaking his head.
We could only agree. In addition to being smart, all rats apparently really like peanut butter. Wednesday night I had heard the traps snap shut. Somehow the rats tripped the traps and then safely dined on peanut butter.
Carlos left four set traps today and will be back Monday.
I worry that when he climbs into the attic on Monday he will find four tripped rat traps and notes requesting bread and jam.
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