Something you should know about me. I have no concept of time. None. Zero. Zilch. So, when I say the other day, or a few years ago, I would really mean 3 and 1/2 months ago or a decade ago.
Two stories, both without any concept of time. The other day, roughly a month and a half ago, maybe two months ago, my roommate was in Washington D.C. for work. I'll just say that one of us has a high paying job that allows her to travel, and the other one of us doesn't.
It was about 4:00AM, again, no concept of time, although it was dark outside, I awoke to a scratching noise inside my closet. Instantly, maybe not instantly, as I don't have any concept of time, nor do I actually recall the events as it wasn't terrifying until much later, I was imagining what kind of awful creature could be making a scratching noise inside my closet in the dead of night, or early morning hours, you get the gist.
Then, I heard scratching on the front door. It sounded just like my roommates dogs scratching at the door to be let in. Only, my roommate had taken her huskies to her Mom's house for the week.
I talked myself into going back to sleep. Fast forward a week, or two. I'm watching the BYU vs. Utah game whilst doing laundry. The washer had stopped and I was still hearing a very unusual sound over the football game. I told him to go see what it was. The house is over 100 years old and has a crawl space that is easily the scariest place I have ever been. You know it’s scary because I didn’t try to elaborate on just how scary it is. It just is.
He crossed the threshold of the kitchen, and said, "it's under there", pointing to the cupboard below the coffee pot and microwave. At this point, "it" was gnawing and scratching. He said "stand back" and bravely flung open the cupboard doors.
Nothing.
He said, "do you have a flashlight?" "Of course I have a flashlight" I say. Lets just say the roommate with the high paying job is also responsible and prepared for emergencies.
He knelt down and tried to look under the floorboard, underneath the cupboard. He couldn't see anything, but looked up at me in the dark, illuminating my face with the flashlight and said, "I don’t know what the Hell it is, but it's big, and it wants to get out."
Dun, Dun, DUN!
I text my roommie and say, something is under the house, it's probably an enormous mouse. She says she will get traps.
Fast forward to Monday. Monday night, the air kicked on. I awoke wondering what that smell was. My roommate has been talking about getting our vents cleaned. The house is old, we have 3 dogs and it needs to be done. I was very tired and fell back asleep easily.
The next morning I got up and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The next evening he came over to watch "bridesmaids" with me. By the way-HILARIOUS-anywhosy, the air kicked on, and he said something like, "SSSICK! You guys need to get your vents cleaned. That smells awful!" I agree with him and we finish the movie.
Wednesday, I'm getting ready for work and I was brushing my teeth. We have a pedestal sink that sits on the corner of the vent. Air was blowing straight up into my face, and it smelled like burnt apricots covered in death.
I text my roommate from work and tell her the vents stink, we need to get them cleaned before winter. She e-mails me and says, I know why the house stinks, but I'm not going to tell you why until you get home...you won’t like it. Have you been feeling sick lately?
Immediately, my stomach turns. I know whatever was under the house is surely dead and rotting. I drive home and it's the longest drive home ever. Figuratively, not literally.
I get home and she is sitting on the couch, and she says, "dead rats, and they are pretty big. You have to see them."
Normally I put up a big stinkin' fight, and I usually win. I have no sense of time but I'm headstrong and can be a bully. I told her I would rather not, and made her believe I could have gone my whole life without looking, but I was sort of curious.
We went around to the back door and the smell hit me. I pulled my shirt up over my nose and she shined the flashlight down into the corner of the steps. I saw one about the size of a cantaloupe covered in fur. I said, “there’s' more?" and she put her hand on my back to maneuver me around to see where the other one was. Those that know me, know I don’t like being touched much. She put her hand on my back and I came out of my skin. Again, figuratively, not literally. I was screaming, she was scream/laughing and then I saw it. A dead, rotting, football sized rat.
I ran, dry heaving back into the house. She called her Mom and she said scoop it up and throw it away. Yeah, right. First, where there are two, there are more and they have obviously had a food source. I did not want to go down there and find a gutted cat.
Her Dad says, call pest control. Turns out, pest control will only come get rats if they are alive and trapped in a window well or something like that. I'm not going to lie, I don't know what pest control said, I didn't call them.
So, we think it over. We can't decide if we should suit up and go down ourselves. Finally, we call an exterminator-he gives us a really high quote, says he can't be out until tomorrow. Then, asks if we have a restaurant nearby. As a matter of fact, I live near a famous chocolate shop.
So, we went over and tried to see if the owner of the chocolate shop would work with us. My roommie has lived in the house for 2 years and never had rats. Now all of the sudden a chocolate shop moves in and we have Chihuahua sized rats in our basement. He was very nice but pretty much told us we were SOL.
We go back home to deliberate. At this point, we have turned off the air conditioning. Literally, not figuratively. I made a horrible mistake and did some Google searches on rats. Images, Info Everything. My bad. I spoke with my roommate and kept trying to figure out what these rats had been living on, when all of the sudden, she said, "Shit! I have a bag of dog food down there!'
No, I'm not kidding.
The next morning, I get a text from my roommate. She has found some guy on Google that will scoop up the rats for $20. If that isn't a sign of the economy, I don’t know what is.
I'm at work and I get a text. He has found 5 more. 5 M-O-R-E!! I'm at work telling anyone who will listen. I have great story telling abilities, and when I dry heaved everyone had a great laugh.
The Google guy scooped up the rats, and set some traps. After the stink dissipated, my roommie and I went down there. We took a look at the traps and an empty 20 pound bag of dog food.
We found the tunnel that they dug to get in, and covered it with a giant landscaping rock from the yard.
I surmise that the rats tunneled in, and ate so much they were too fat to get back out. That, or they had little rat heart attacks and little rat strokes.
We check periodically. No more rats.
In my book, Maggots in the house are STILL worse than rats under the house.
