Ants, rats, and uncaring neighbors oh my!

After posting the entry regarding our fire ant problem, which my husband took care of with vicious ant killer since Home Depot did not sell Borax and that was where he was when I texted that I needed him to pick up Borax, I took the dog outside for his daily constitutional. Actually, I just took him out to pee, but that was something my dad used to say, and lately, I'm using more and more "Russisms". Probably because the anniversary of his death just came and went, but that has nothing to do with my story. Jeez.

So, Elliot and I trooped out the front door into our overgrown yard, which I contemplated mowing, but those who read me know my mowing history, and therefore, know that it didn't get past the contemplating stage, and the dog immediately took off after a squirrel who was happily enjoying an acorn dinner under our oak tree. I'm used to this, saw the little guy as we exited the front door, and braced myself for the pull on the leash as he ran toward the tree. The squirrel, of course, beat him to the tree, and so Elliot started sniffing the ground as if he were a hunting dog on the scent. (Another Russ reference) He figured there were other squirrels and followed his path around the front of our house toward the corner where he believes all of the squirrels live. As he walked away from me sniffing, he suddenly jerked up, twirled around and pounced at something running along the foundation under my front bedroom window. I assumed it was a lizard, and did not react.

We have tons of lizards in Florida. In my part of the area they are small lizards, and they never bother us, scurrying out of our way as we walk. Occasionally, they enter our house and give me a good blog entry as we react as if a robber were stealing us blind. Outside, however, I pay little or no attention to them. I calmly stood there watching as Elliot chased the critter toward me, but as my eyes adjusted I saw it was not a lizard, but what I thought was a baby bunny. I yelled at the thought of my dog capturing a baby bunny.

Then, as the "bunny" came closer, like a foot away, I saw the long tail and the word "RODENT" entered my brain, followed closely by "RAT!! RUN! RUN! SAVE YOURSELF!" I began screaming like a girl who had just seen a rat close enough to run over her shoe. I started dancing, prancing, hopping up and down as it got closer, my dog right on top of it, thinking it was playing with him. I was shrieking Elliot's name, pulling on his leash while he resisted, and trying to get inside my house for safety before the rat...well, I wasn't sure what rats did, but I wasn't hanging around to find out.

At some point in my hopping from foot to foot and my shrieking, Elliot stopped and looked at me like I had come unhinged. I took that opportunity to yank him toward the front door, and we made it to safety as the rat came to a stop right where I had been standing. Elliot and I stared at him through the glass door.

He was in no hurry to escape. Apparently, a dog and a screaming, out of control human was no big deal to Ratatouille. He sat there shaking, burrowing into the grass as if seeking some shelter. Instantly, I knew something wasn't right with him. This is Florida. We have fruit trees, and with those trees, come fruit rats. They usually only come out to steal from our trees at night, and rarely do I see them. Once we had one in our garage. Once I ran over one with my car at night. Once we had one hanging out on our back fence. When we do see them it is usually an indication that something isn't right.

Elliot and I stood at the door and watched him for about fifteen minutes. At one point, I went outside to take a SnapChat photo because, hello, social media! I'm dedicated to my job, and whoa, I knew this was an entry, and pictures are always great to go with my poetic words. Ratatouille did not care how close I got, and seemed very nonchalant about my taking his picture. He moved very little, ate some stuff in my grass, huddled down, and eventually I got bored. I sent the picture to my husband who was still searching Home Depot for Borax.

He returned home with this little baby, and the aforementioned ant killer. I body searched him just to make sure there wasn't anything lethal enough to dispose of his family, and let him set out the murder traps. The next morning, before I woke up, the rat was in the trap where Tom put him on a bus to rat boarding school. The ants are taking their sweet time packing up, but slowly they too are dying heading off.

I'm hoping this is it for the critters for a while. I need time for my heart to return to normal. I also just want to say that none of my new neighbors came outside during my screaming episode to see if I was being abducted, stabbed, or chased by a rat. This neighborhood is going to hell.