Until 2006, I believed rodents only lived on farms and in dingy New York apartments. Abey Cat debunked that myth with the thoughtful prezzy of a live mouse. One lovely summer afternoon, he strutted through our open door, rodent in mouth. He interpreted my scream as, "Oh, obviously Kelly wants this in her room," and he trotted upstairs to liberate the rodent there.
Who could help me? My first thought was my favorite lesbian, but she didn't answer the phone. My next thought was my favorite former-country-dweller, Lynn. She did answer the phone. Then she came over and we ransacked my room, to no avail. (This was our first time hanging out in a non-group setting, and we became great pals. Almost exactly five years later, she officiated my wedding.)
We never found the mouse.
Rodent Experience #2:
Once again, Lynn was my hero. She chased the mouse from room to room, trying to kill it with a Catholic Bible (our heaviest book... don't take it personally, Pope) until it holed up in the heater. Since Drew was on his way over, he agreed to pick up mouse traps. Lynn set them, and Drew and I barricaded my bedroom while we slept on the living room futon. Harper's kennel cough, the lumpy futon mattress, and our deep, deep fear made it the worst night's sleep of our lives.
In the morning, the mouse was dead in the trap. Lynn dealt with it.
Rodent Experience #3:
Six months later, I was living with Drew, and we had another rodent. This time Abe had nothing to do with it. We arrived home after being away for Christmas, and the animals were acting suspicious. Harper barked in the middle of the night. Abey skitted around the floor like a useless hunter. Then, I saw it - a mouse home (sans mouse) in a box of panty liners.So. Gross.
We set traps around the house. The rodent has not been found.
Rodent Experience #4:
Last week, I was driving home from work when Drew called. "Kel, are you almost home?" he asked in an unsettling voice. I said yes, I was five blocks away, and what was wrong? I thought someone had died. He whispered, "There is a noise in the bathroom. I think we have... a mouse."
I walked in confident that he was being paranoid, but my first step in the bathroom revealed a scratching noise. We thought it came from a drawer. Drew set traps, and we dashed off to a Thai restaurant to enjoy spring rolls while we waited for the rodent to be snapped to death.
We arrived home to empty traps. We dehydrated ourselves so that we would not have to use the restroom. In the middle of the night, we awoke to noisy scratching and clunking. Fear. Fear. Fear.
Come morning, the traps were still empty. Our midnight Fright Conversation resulted in a plan that involved giant garbage bags, the drawer thing, and our backyard. On my morning run to Safeway for said garbage bags, I used their bathroom. I returned, we enacted the plan, and we found nothing.
That rodent is probably the same rascal involved in Rodent Experience #5.
Rodent Experience #5:
Three hours ago, I heard a familiar scratching. I boldly walked into the bathroom and kicked the stupid drawers, but the noise continued. What was this? It was coming from INSIDE THE WALLS. Motherf'er.
Drew was at work and Lynn was in California, so I called the neighbors. I said, "Za, there is noise in my bathroom, and I need you to hear it." She strolled on over and gently told me, "Umm... that sounds like a rat building a nest." Since Za is (a) very brave and (b) vaccinated for rabies due to a raccoon incident last year, she took charge.
First, we locked Abe in the bathroom hoping he'd catch the damn thing. He was pathetic, so we freed him. Second, we duct taped the crap out of holes under the kitchen sink in case the bastard tried to escape there. Third, Za courageously vacuumed near the tiny hole behind the toilet to scare it while I stood behind her with an empty box telling myself that I would be strong enough to trap it if it ran by. Last, we taped up the "vacuum hole" and listened. Silence.
I have vacuumed every half hour since then just to freak it out. Move out, rodent! You're not welcome! I have called our landlords and they will come get you if you don't leave on your own!
The rodent is still unaccounted before, but at least it's quiet.
I hope this is where my Rodent History ends forever and ever. We are moving to Shoreline in a couple weeks. Mice and rats have a reputation to keep, and I'm pretty sure they would never allow themselves to live in the suburbs.
At least it's not dinosaurs.
A shot of the handsome, married, Hamblecouple.
