The first hint that we had a rat on the loose in the house was the hole in the bathroom wall. I was the first person to notice the hole. There was some irony in the discovery. The room in this house that has most recently been refurbished . . . the best looking room in the house, and a rat decides to chew a hole in the wall. It just figures. On the bright side, the rat chewed the hole through the wall right behind the toilet. It is so well hidden that the first thing I noticed was not the hole itself, but the debris that lay scattered on the floor.
“Hello,” I thought, “Why is there sheet rock debris scattered on the floor behind the toilet?” I bend over for a better look and lo, there is a nice sized hole in the wall. A hole much, much, bigger than any small mouse would need. In fact, I can’t think of ever having a mouse who so brazenly chewed a hole through a wall. I brought this violation of household sanctity to Dad’s attention, agreed with him that rat poison ought to be put out, but didn’t get around to doing anything.
Really, if I’d been on top of things, and a good boy, I would have put out some poison right away. But I didn’t. The next rat hole I found was in the back hallway floor and it was even bigger than the first hole. This, I considered something like my final warning. The rat most certainly was moving in to stay, and if we didn’t want the vile creature to start making holes all through the house, he had to be taken out. So I took all the unopened boxes of poison and placed them in strategic locations around the house. Then there was only to wait.
The effect was by no means instantaneous. Some night after I put the poison out I went down to go to the bathroom and I heard what sounded like the rat scrabbling around in the darkness. Not for the faint of heart. But since he didn’t seem to be scrabbling in my direction, I didn’t feel the need to defend myself. Someone who was very concerned about the rat was Owen. Being a little boy he has a very active imagination. He was sure he could hear the rat crawling around in the wall near his bed. It was possible that he was hearing the rat because we do have an old house with hollow walls. Of course, with him it was also possible he was hearing nothing but the sounds in the night. However, his dear brothers who were close to him in age could not help feeding all sorts of horrible ideas into his head. When he came to me about the concern I told him I was not going to put rat poison in his room, and he didn’t need to worry about it.
The rat mostly left my mind. Initially I was a bit concerned that he would come staggering out into some room, half dead from poison and then flop down on the floor. As the rat did not make an immediate appearance, I hoped he had crawled off to die (preferably) outside, or (probably) in some wall. So long as no more holes began to make mysterious appearances, I was happy.
Then someone did find the rat. He wasn’t quite dead. I don’t remember who was the first person to spot the rat, but it is a good thing this family is pretty laid back about animals. No shrieking fits around here. I guess the unaffected attitude is required if you live out in the country in an old house. The wild things don’t exactly keep at bay. Anyhow, the rat was discovered in the jelly cabinet, hunched up behind three big jars of homemade blackberry jam. Such certainly is the material to send a person dashing through the house screaming “There is a rat in the jelly cabinet! Aaahhhh! There is a huge rat in the jelly cabinet!” Nobody did. But it still wasn’t a pleasant place to find such a creature. It makes your home feel violated, even if the rat is nearly dead.
My first concern on hearing the news was that the rat may have died some time ago, and was in some stage of decomposition. A rotting rat is worse than a just dead rat. Another concern was that he was not yet very dead, and someone would have to finish him off, right there in the jelly cabinet. But since this rat was in the house, and I had already taken care of the last rat which was outside, I decided Dad could dispose of this one. (I know, so mature of me.)
The rat was big. I am always slightly shocked at how much bigger rats are than mice. This rat seemed to be at least ten times bigger than a nice teeny little mouse. He looked vile. He creeped Evan out a bit. Dad shoveled the creature into a garbage bag and threw the rat out.
More rat poison has been put around the house. Dad says where there is one rat there is always more. Usually correct, but I’m hoping that this was a forward scouting rat who hadn’t yet got around to bringing all of his extended family in to live with him. Only time will tell. Hopefully no more will be dying in the jelly cabinet.
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