The outside makes its way in

The rat population out back of the apartment building seems to have exploded. The rats have even eaten away the edges of the lids of the garbage bins…and now we have critters in the walls. Whatever they are I don’t know because they thus far remain in the walls and I can’t see them. But something’s in there. In the bathroom. It was wrecking havoc scratch scratch scratch in the corner of the ceiling the other day, and I heard it banging around last night in the wall behind the sink. Disconcerting when you’re brushing your teeth and a couple feet away from you, inside the wall, is something very loudly making its way through.

Especially disturbing is that the windowsill in the bathroom is now filled with gray sawdust like shavings and they are even in the bathtub this morning…apparently fallen from where the ceiling isn’t quite flush with the wall?

I’m kind of freaked out about it this morning. Because last night when I went into the bathroom at one point, the shower curtain rustled.

The landlord’s supposed to be dropping by tomorrow to work on the kitchen sink. I’m thinking I’ll leave the shavings on the sill for him to see. He’s got to somehow take care of this.

Yes, I’m freaked.


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4 responses to “The outside makes its way in”

  1. Tata Avatar

    Dahhhhhhhhhhlink, even if you’re allergic, you need the assistance of a professional. A merciless killer, possibly even an accomplice.

    You need some kickass cats, man.

  2. Idyllopus Avatar

    The last time we acquired a cat to help with sounds in the wall, we regretted it for the next 18 years. We acquired a couple other cats in the meanwhile who were great, but the one commissioned for rodent control was bat shit crazy from day one. The first night, I opened my eyes to see her staring intently at me and I sleepily told my husband, “She looks like she’s about to attack my face”, to which he replied, “No, she’s not, she just loves you,” and then she did. Which turned out to be her crazed way of showing affection. Friends dubbed her the Velcro Cat. After a year’s intent work with her I was able to soften the edges some so that she mostly was velcroed to our chests purr drooling instead of inflicting pain, but she was still crazed.

    I have to give it to her, she was loyal. When not totally crazy. An exterminator once accidentally stepped on our dog’s tail, the dog yelped, and the cat attacked him, cornered him in the hall. From then on whenever the exterminator came by, we had to lock her in the bedroom. She was that kind of cat.

  3. Tata Avatar

    Few of our indoor professional killers behave like your overly affectionate assassin. All things being equal, what are you more afraid of: pussycat face-plants or bubonic plague?

    I’m sorry. I sounded almost sane there for a moment. I blame cold medicine.

  4. Idyllopus Avatar

    Bubonic plague, I suppose (she says after a few minute deliberation). But seeing as I trust that fate most often prefers long, agonizing ends to the brief and dramatic, I trust that I have more to worry about being indentured to another Krazy Kat for another twenty years. Now, if that cat was an American Bobtail–which was one of the marvelous cats we had (all honor and praise be to Malcolm) and spoiled me for any other cat–then I would happily acquire a cat, much to the landlord’s chagrin. But Malcolm (the American Bobtail) was given to us free and I read now they cost several hundred dollars if you are intentionally pursuing. They’re worth it too. Though American Bobtails in their youth are especially destructive, at least it’s always in entertaining, novel ways.

    Hope your cold doesn’t linger and that you’re over it soon.

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