Last night, Hubby was checking all the outlets from our house (water, sewer, etc) to see if there were any more possible entrances, and came upon our culprit. He dispatched him handily, and let me say this:

The bastard was about a full foot long.

Remember those wives’ tales about rats hurting children? After looking at that creep, I believed it.

Hubby continued poking around the foundation of our basement, and came across the corpse of another — we figure he’d been living in the basement too and got into the Decon — making it out just in time to meet his maker.

We buried the lot, and are hopefully done with it. The problem is, it is yet to be determined if this is only the start of an all-out War with the Rat Colony, or if we nipped it in the bud.

I have no problem with mice (field mice can be rather cute) and rats in the wild. But I have no sympathy for any creature who has been destroying my canned and dry goods for winter and making a total mess of everything in the meantime. I was glad to see both their dead little terrorist bodies.

Now, it’s wait and see.


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