Ratbusters

My MIL called our house on Saturday. Not because she'd fallen and couldn't get up but because she was positive she heard a rat in her house. Screaming. Shrieking. In her attic.

MIL: "It was LOUD!"

She kept emulating the scream every time she gave new information. She even Googled it to make sure it wasn't something else shrieking in her attic...like a ghost. Google told her it was a rat. As did the chewed ceiling tile covering the opening to her attic.

On Sunday, Madison, Tom, and I headed over in our Ratbuster outfits to locate the shrieker and put him out of his misery. Well, to be honest, that wasn't my intention. Madison and I came for the breakfast Tom promised us first and then we came along to motivate him so that he'd continue on the drive to help his mother.

MIL: "I looked all around while the rat made that noise and then I saw the chewed tile in the bathroom so I closed the bathroom door. Then, because I couldn't hear it screaming from my bedroom, I closed that door and slept just fine last night."

I wasn't so sure that the tile had been chewed but I also wasn't one to take a chance that I knew what the hell I was talking about. Tom, on the other hand, didn't even hesitate.

Which sent the MIL off again on the shrieking. With the addition of crazy, waving hands as an accompaniment.

Me: "OMG! What are you doing? You haven't even assessed the situation! Close the bathroom door in case the rat falls out of the ceiling!"

Him: "If it falls, the toilet is right there and he'll drown. You two are funny."

He saw no signs of rats. No droppings. No chewed wires. But because his mother insisted she'd heard what she'd heard...yep, she gave us another rendition...we went to Home Depot for some traps. I made him close the bathroom door before he left. He humored me and did so.

Several people were in the rodent aisle. Many were eyeing a sticky trap which looked to me to be a large piece of sticky paper like a gigantic piece of tape where the rat walked across it and then BAM all four paws were stuck. Like quicksand without the sinking into a hole.

Me: "Yeah, what? Who wants to trap a live rat on a piece of sticky paper? Because it's more humane? How? Are you going to pull the rat off of the sticky mess? Rip it's paws off when you do so? Who's going to handle a rat? That makes absolutely no sense to me. Are you just supposed to throw the entire thing, rat and all, in the trash? How is that humane?"

I said all of this aloud hoping that those who contemplated this trap would fill me in. Instead, no one spoke or looked at me. Two people reached forward and removed the trap to add to their basket. We did not. We got the type of trap where there was no mistaking our intentions.

Rats carry diseases that I'd rather not catch. I'm good with animals out in their own domain which is outside my domain. When they cross over into my domain, I feel it's fair game. Just as they do when I venture into their territory. Hello, silkworms, mosquitoes, lovebugs, and ginormous grasshoppers I'm talking to you. So, Tom went with the trap that carried his name which he has used with success several times.

Me: "I feel like the shrieking rat (cue the MIL) is a rat that wasn't healthy. This is way more humane."

So, up went the hubby and the traps. Up I went. For blogging purposes. I only went as far to stick my head into the hole. I did not see signs of rats. Nor did I hear them.

My MIL has two attics so Tom set traps in both. The other is in the garage and several days prior my MIL had found a baby rat in one of her plastic containers sitting in the garage.

MIL: "I picked it up and threw it outside and then ran inside and shut the garage door."

Tom: "And the rat probably rolled its eyes and went around the side of the house and back into  wherever it is that the rats are using as an entry point into your garage and/or attic."

MIL:

Stay tuned. At some point, someone has to go up there to check the traps. I, for one, will be in CA.