• Massacre at 212 Queen Street

    I told you about The First One.  It's violent death amoung the coffee grinds.  My absolute lack of remorse.  My horror at becoming one of those homes...infested.

    Let me begin my saying this:  Rats are evil incarnate.  They are the cold fingers on the back of my neck.  They are the shiver of disgust when I see that thick, naked tail, slipping through the hole beneath my sink.  I do not accept them as part of God's plan and I believe in the complete annihilation of the entire demonic race.

    Dear Animal Rights Activists, I dare you to challenge me!

    There is no sweetness in ink black eyes, nor beauty in pointed noses and squirrelly talons.  No grace in matted fur nor manners in garbage can theft.  They are ugly and bold and absolutely expendable.

    And we have knowingly murdered twelve since that first day.  Twelve rodents who have met timely ends beneath the kitchen sink.  Spines crushed.  Heads crushed.  Yellow teeth frozen in a forever grin of 'at least I got to taste your pot roast, lady!'

    When our phones stopped working we were sure they had chewed through the wires.  Worse was to discover that they had peed all over the box and shorted it out.  God bless the poor Eastlink man who had to journey into our dungeon and fix it.  I'm sure he went home and showered until he was raw.
    Twenty dollars worth of poison.  Scott manned up and took it down himself (and I'm sure it was all he could do to keep from sobbing) and spread all of it through the crawl space before terror could force him back into the light.

    That was five days ago.  I haven't heard a rustle for twenty-four hours.

    Now, I don't want to count my chickens before they hatch but I kind of feel like cock-a-doodle-do-ing.  We're winning this war.  Reclaiming our home.  Sending those beasts straight back to where they came from - birthed in the womb of hell.

    And yes, I'll dance on their graves.  To Motorhead.  And I'll love it.

    Take this as a lesson.  Never pee on my phone box!

     More rat stories?

  • 5 comments:

    1. Anything that can thrive in vile conditions is most cettiannly from the devil. KILL them they deserve poison.
      on old farmer once told me if you nail a rat body to the wall it scares htme away as well. Well at least until it decomoses.

      ReplyDelete
    2. Thanks for the support, Anne but EWWW! That's disgusting and I'm terrified to even try to find the bodies, net alone nail one to the wall. Want to come over and do it for me?

      ReplyDelete
    3. Don't exactly know how I found your blog, but I love it! I'm a musician, photographer, blogger,
      pastor's wife and songwriter and I can relate to so many of the things you write.

      Your whole rat piece made me a bit uncomfortable--in the nicest sort of way, of course. I have to say that I'm in complete agreement with you about the fact that there is not even one redeeming quality about those little ol' malevolent monsters; killing them seems like a pretty good use of time!

      Best of luck in your "rat race!"

      Becky Smith

      ReplyDelete
    4. Hi Becky - thanks for stopping by and for supporting my war on the rats...and so far so good - there hasn't been a rustle beneath my sink since : ) I'll be visiting your blog - it's fun to check out people that have similar interests!

      ReplyDelete

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