We slept restlessly The Night of the Rodent Discovery. Megan compared waiting for the snap of the mousetraps to waiting for Santa Claus . . . I did not quite agree with the analogy, but it does suggest her state of mind as we entered battle.
Sometime in the night, while I was dreaming of being hunted and poisoned by a polygamist henchman (too much Big Love), Megan heard a snap. She was kind enough to let me sleep through the night before tip-toeing into the kitchen to observe our victim.
And then the shout, "Brad!" I sprinted into the kitchen to see a rat of prehistoric proportions dead on the counter. While Megan assured me that they have larger rats in her part of the state, I tried to avoid the mental image of a larger beast--this one was big enough.
Megan left the kitchen feeling victorious and began preparing for her day. I sat there contemplating the inevitable next steps, disposal and reconassaince. I would need to somehow transport this harbinger of Hanta virus to the alley and then figure out how it came to inhabit our most sanitary of rooms.
Quickly, I concocted a plan that would allow me to rid ourselves of the carcass without forcing me to touch the monster. I set the trashcan below the counter and found a plastic pole. I used the pole to scoot the device and creature into the trashcan. Problem solved.
Next it was James Bond time. Fortunately (fortunately?), rodents leave miniscule black deposits as they travel that allow a sleuth to track their journey. The location of the dead creature suggested that it climbed onto our counter from behind our stove. Having recently installed the stove, I knew the wall was solid behind it, but the gas line seemed to be an obvious entry point. I opened the counter with the gas line and found a gaping hole that lead into the void between the walls and presumably into the crawlspace below the house. To confirm my suspicions, I found the telltale trail of dark, little doodie all over our baking sheets. Cookies, anyone?
While I resented the vandalism, the problem can now be addressed. If a rat intends to gnosh on our grub, it'll have to find another entry.
Of course, questions remain. Was this rat the rat? Is this the cause of the rustling in our bedroom wall as well as the creature who robbed our sourdough? I'm hopeful, but we cannot be too sure. The war continues, and we will fight it on any front necessary to protect the security of our homeland. The enemy we fight is evasive and well-funded, and it has no respect for the institutions of peace, democracy, and antibiotic cleansers. Hopefully, someday, we will be able to live in peace once again. For now, we're pretty sure we need to buy bigger traps.