Smell You Later
Rat crisis solved. First we thought we would borrow Farrah's cat, but that ended up not working out. Sad. So we went to Giant and bought rat-catching things. We distributed them about the house and went along our merry way. Later that day I got this:
Subj: In the style of McSweeney's
Date: 10/4/2004 11:34:31 AM Eastern Daylight Time
From: Eleanor Davis
An Open Letter to The Mouse I Just Drowned
First of all, well done. You did your little mousey family proud. Forgoing any unnecessary squeaking or struggling, you saved your energy for the long ordeal you knew was coming. This strategy paid off when, using my roommates tongs and hiding behind the back door, I tossed you into a Le Creuset stock pot full of water on the back porch. After slamming the door and running away like a little wussy girl, I retuned five minutes later to find you treading water! No matter that your entire lower body was immobilized by tar-like adhesive gel, you wiggled your little head hard enough to float the entire rat-sized glue trap towards the side of the pot and keep your little head out of the water. Then you just sat there looking all wet and sad as I kicked the trap back in, squealed with disgust, and put the lid on.
Sorry about that, by the way. Not for putting the lid on, cause you were fighting a losing battle and its probably better that you just move on to mousie heaven (or mousie reincarnation if thats your bag). Im sorry for the whole situation. Now, Im sure you dont really want to hear any excuses. Who am I kidding, youre running through fields of peanut butter and checking out all the little mousie virgins that await those who die as martyrs, what do you care about my guilt or innocence. But Im going to tell you anyway. It will make me feel better.
In the past four years I have battled your many, many forbearers for the control of my kitchen counters. There have been ups and downs. In the summer of 2002 I abandoned ownership all together and just ate out for two months. That was probably the golden age of your little mousie civilization. At other times, my roommates and I waged war with a variety of weapons. We tried to starve you out by improving our food storage techniques, became experts on the many types of snap traps (classic wooden, cheese-pedal TM, black plastic), and occasionally poison (like most weapons of mass destruction, only as a last resort.) Most of the time we were in a pleasant state of detante, our borders guarded by a minefield of traps. We never used glue traps because everyone says they are cruel, and we are progressive lefties who dont believe in cruelty.
Then it all changed.Im sure that you will agree with me that rats are really gross. You probably sit (I mean sat) around with your little mousie buddies griping about how they get all the good trash and hideout spaces and stuff. So I dont have to explain how freaked out I was when I came home late at night and found my roommate huddled on the futon mumbling about a rat in our kitchen. This was a whole new ball game. Not content with the odd toast crumb or forgotten plate of spaghetti, this mofo bit holes in the lid of my Hersheys cocoa and sucked the almond milk out of a box Dracula style. After several late nights stalking the rat with an umbrella and a rake, we decided that we couldnt just chase it back out the way it came. The supermarket only carried one rodent-killing item that was hearty enough for a rat, and so we compromised out values and put out glue traps. What else could we do? It was a rat!
My deepest apologies,Ellie Davis
PS As I was writing this, one of your little mousie friends scampered out from under the futon in the direction of the back porch. I stamped my very heavy clog-shod foot, and he took cover, maybe he was coming to say a little mousie eulogy over your pot or something. Im sure that hell tell your family what happened, and maybe later, when Im at work, theyll all come back and toss little flower wreaths into the pot or something. Actually, I think Im probably going to throw you and your glue trap into the neighbors yard before I go to work, but they should probably just stay in the nest where its safe anyway.
__________________________________________________________________
Now know that the above references a mouse, not a rat, but at the same time, I must say that we have not heard or seen hide nor hair of Mr Rat since putting out said traps. My slipper got stuck in the remaining glue trap yesterday and let me tell you, it was pretty darn sticky. So perhaps he got the message? Let's hope so.
Subj: In the style of McSweeney's
Date: 10/4/2004 11:34:31 AM Eastern Daylight Time
From: Eleanor Davis
An Open Letter to The Mouse I Just Drowned
First of all, well done. You did your little mousey family proud. Forgoing any unnecessary squeaking or struggling, you saved your energy for the long ordeal you knew was coming. This strategy paid off when, using my roommates tongs and hiding behind the back door, I tossed you into a Le Creuset stock pot full of water on the back porch. After slamming the door and running away like a little wussy girl, I retuned five minutes later to find you treading water! No matter that your entire lower body was immobilized by tar-like adhesive gel, you wiggled your little head hard enough to float the entire rat-sized glue trap towards the side of the pot and keep your little head out of the water. Then you just sat there looking all wet and sad as I kicked the trap back in, squealed with disgust, and put the lid on.
Sorry about that, by the way. Not for putting the lid on, cause you were fighting a losing battle and its probably better that you just move on to mousie heaven (or mousie reincarnation if thats your bag). Im sorry for the whole situation. Now, Im sure you dont really want to hear any excuses. Who am I kidding, youre running through fields of peanut butter and checking out all the little mousie virgins that await those who die as martyrs, what do you care about my guilt or innocence. But Im going to tell you anyway. It will make me feel better.
In the past four years I have battled your many, many forbearers for the control of my kitchen counters. There have been ups and downs. In the summer of 2002 I abandoned ownership all together and just ate out for two months. That was probably the golden age of your little mousie civilization. At other times, my roommates and I waged war with a variety of weapons. We tried to starve you out by improving our food storage techniques, became experts on the many types of snap traps (classic wooden, cheese-pedal TM, black plastic), and occasionally poison (like most weapons of mass destruction, only as a last resort.) Most of the time we were in a pleasant state of detante, our borders guarded by a minefield of traps. We never used glue traps because everyone says they are cruel, and we are progressive lefties who dont believe in cruelty.
Then it all changed.Im sure that you will agree with me that rats are really gross. You probably sit (I mean sat) around with your little mousie buddies griping about how they get all the good trash and hideout spaces and stuff. So I dont have to explain how freaked out I was when I came home late at night and found my roommate huddled on the futon mumbling about a rat in our kitchen. This was a whole new ball game. Not content with the odd toast crumb or forgotten plate of spaghetti, this mofo bit holes in the lid of my Hersheys cocoa and sucked the almond milk out of a box Dracula style. After several late nights stalking the rat with an umbrella and a rake, we decided that we couldnt just chase it back out the way it came. The supermarket only carried one rodent-killing item that was hearty enough for a rat, and so we compromised out values and put out glue traps. What else could we do? It was a rat!
My deepest apologies,Ellie Davis
PS As I was writing this, one of your little mousie friends scampered out from under the futon in the direction of the back porch. I stamped my very heavy clog-shod foot, and he took cover, maybe he was coming to say a little mousie eulogy over your pot or something. Im sure that hell tell your family what happened, and maybe later, when Im at work, theyll all come back and toss little flower wreaths into the pot or something. Actually, I think Im probably going to throw you and your glue trap into the neighbors yard before I go to work, but they should probably just stay in the nest where its safe anyway.
__________________________________________________________________
Now know that the above references a mouse, not a rat, but at the same time, I must say that we have not heard or seen hide nor hair of Mr Rat since putting out said traps. My slipper got stuck in the remaining glue trap yesterday and let me tell you, it was pretty darn sticky. So perhaps he got the message? Let's hope so.
posted by Hannah at 10:11 AM
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