guess what was under the stove

guess what was under the stove
Originally uploaded by mygothlaundry

So, yesterday, my friends D & R came over to get rid of my rats. My landlord who is a sweet guy but has possibly never had rats and thus was unaware of just how bad it is over here, told me he would buy me some poison and leave it in the mailbox and I should put it in the basement. This was clearly not enough help and besides, there is no power on earth strong enough to get me into that basement. Therefore when my friend J volunteered D to come over and get all medieval on the rats, I jumped at the chance. R is just back from a couple years in Afghanistan, so rats do not faze him and D is just tough. Thank the gods.

Well, they came over and got to work. They said the garage was probably fine but they put some traps in there just to be on the safe side. Then they moved the refrigerator and that's how we discovered that the rats had pulled down the cardboardy back of the bottom of the fridge and were living inside the motor. Fortunately, none of them were home. R & D then went to Lowes while I cowered in the other room and came back with about 10 big traps. Then, oh god almighty, R moved the stove and, look at what was underneath - yes, a novelty souvenir red bottle spoonrest thing! And a giant fucking rat hole.

The rats weren't coming from the garage after all. I have unfairly maligned young M and his untidy friends. There may be rats in the garage, sure - but there are more in the basement. And, to complete the story, D talked to my next door neighbors. Guess what? They had rats about a month and a half ago. I don't know, but I'll be they used one of those sonic things to drive them away - directly next door.

I was all for plugging the hole up immediately but R said, no - if you plug it up, he said, they'll just make another hole. You need to get rid of them all the way. To that end he put about 7 baited traps around the kitchen and, meanwhile, D loaded the basement, particularly the top of the furnace, which, it turns out, is directly below the kitchen and, judging from footprints and scat, is how the bastards got up to the ceiling, with poison (I took about 20 pictures of the hole, so that D could find it by the flash from the kitchen, which was sort of moderately amusing. Or not.) I didn't want to use poison but we made very sure that the dogs can't get to it and R & D told me to have a beer and stop freaking out about that, because the rats are really bad. They're right. I let them poison the basement. Also, D said he would come over and get any dead rats in the walls if necessary.

Then they left and I went over to S' house with my dogs for the party and fireworks and also because I am just having a lot of trouble being here at night. We had an awesome fun time at the party; I spent the night at S' and came home about six hours ago and . . .

I still haven't been in the kitchen. I can't go in the kitchen. The dogs have not been fed and I'm getting thirsty but I Just. Can't. Go. In. The. Kitchen. There could be like seven dead rats in there and I can't handle it. R said it was very likely that there would be maybe five to ten more before I'm through. I can't stand it. I know that eventually I'm going to have to go in the kitchen, even though I have seriously been entertaining thoughts of just going to the grocery store and buying more dogfood and some dog bowls and some bottled water, rather than step across that threshold. I recognize that this is completely batshit insane but I tell you what - I can't face that damn kitchen. Therefore, even though this is so pathetic, I'm sitting here waiting for S & Z, who in their kindness are going to come over so we can all go into the kitchen together. Thank the gods for my friends, is all I can say.