My sister-in-law Kate, she of the forty acres in the country and the haunted church, posted this picture on facebook this morning. "This giant groundhog keeps trying to get into my house," she said. Adding, lest we thought she was kidding, "I'm not even kidding." She said he had tried the patio door, the garage, and the front door, and was just then staring at her from the backyard.
This led Amy to comment/wail, "Why are rodents attacking our family??"
WHY INDEED.
And speaking of which. The professional mouseketeers are coming tomorrow morning to begin mitigating our roof rat situation.
When last we checked in on the delicate marital dance--the dance that ensues when a man and woman love each other very much and they buy a house together that some rats love to nest in--I had turned the decision-making process over to Matt and had given him the contact info for Tim the critter guy. I figured that he would talk to the guy and either negotiate some reduced level of service or just pick his brain or I didn't know what.
I had turned this issue over to Matt in a spirit of wifely submission. And here's what I've learned about wifely submission: For wifely submission to work, like, as a maneuver, it can't be a maneuver, it has to really be the authentic thing. I was all, "I surrender this issue to your judgment and if you want to make a hobby out of catching rats in your spare time, I will never issue the first peep of second-guessing you because we are one flesh and I don't think you are wrong and I don't even want to be right."
Or I didn't say all those words, but it was like, the gist.
What happened was that Matt decided he didn't even have the time and braincycles to spend on talking to the guy. Which was a good proof-of-concept of the truth that if he didn't have time to talk about some rats, he didn't have time to stalk, bait, trap, and dispose of rats.
And that is how that is turning out.
So tomorrow the professionals will be here. I will have smelling salts nearby in case I have to actually lay eyes on a rat.
If that groundhog had been laying siege to my house, I would have totally let him in and tried to figure out what he might like to eat. Then I would have made him a bed in a laundry basket and later, just maybe, put him in a bonnet. You?
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10 comments:
$1360 is a bargain if it buys you freedom from worrying about, seeing, hearing, touching, or otherwise being in the direct company of rats.
Don't forget to file a homeowner's insurance claim! If I lived on 40 acres and no gardener, nor golf cart, I would have a shotgun for that giant mammal! Boom! I'm not gun-crazy, but I saw Prince of Tides!
There's a children's book in here somewhere . . . The Groundhog and the Rat. Maybe they trade places. And talk about the ladies in the houses they're visiting.
I'm with Erika W and see a short story -- perhaps inspired, too, by one of my very favorite childhood books: Suzy the Squirrel.
Groundhog don't care!
When I glanced at that picture, I thought it was a bear cub. (which I also would be tempted to set up with a blanket, basket and bonnet).
Matthew killed 13 rats in our attic with traps and peanut butter. In one trap, he got three baby ones at once. I know! My girls were sad. One said.. "Mamma, that one looks like Angelina! " (Angelina, the ballerina)
Oh goodness, I have an off-his-rocker relative who used to shoot groundhogs from his patio sliding glass doors (open, natch). During hunting season he might also have a gutted deer hanging from the porch above. This is the 'country' side of my family.
Keep your eyes closed. I had one run across my kitchen not ten feet from me. In the daytime. My Post Traumatic Rat Syndrome is well earned.
Becky, have Kate see if the giant Groundhog can talk. He may have wandered through the Wardrobe from Narnia.
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