I’m not saying it isn’t nice to be welcomed into your new home.
But when the welcome comes from a large rodent that has stolen into you kitchen looking to dine on your garbage, well…it ain’t so warm and fuzzy.
About a week into our life in our new home (which, don’t get me wrong, I love), I heard Billy squeal and proclaim “OMG, Reb, the BIGGEST rat is in our kitchen!!! OMG OMG it’s so-o-o-o BIG!”
I ducked into the bathroom, trembling with fear but also laughing at the absurdity of cowering from something that is roughly the size of my foot. Billy ran next door to fetch our Austrian landlord, Alex. Not to stereotype (Arnold), but Austrians kick butt. Alex arrived clad in a wife beater, muscles all rippling, armed with some kind of pipe. I couldn’t really see what was going on through the bathroom door, but I heard some thrashing, yelling and finally some cheering as Billy and Alex (but mostly Alex) chased the offender out the front door.
Upon further inspection, it seems most likely that the rat entered through the perfect rat-sized archway in our garage door. I mean, the hole is like a custom-made rat door.
The photo above illustrates Billy and my dad, who has murdered all sorts of creepy crawlies, inspecting said hole. Billy read online that rats do not like to chew through tin foil, so he plugged it up with some of that.

My brother Zach – kind, middle child Zach – once executed a rat with a hammer and then buried it in a “snowy grave.” He lived near Chinatown in Toronto and the rat got under his skin (and his bed, and his food, and god knows what else). That’s an old cell phone shot he took of his roommate holding the rat before they took it outside to meet its maker.

After dad’s recommendation to “kill,” I went on a morning jaunt and picked up some tulips and vermin traps of various sizes. Because I’m elegant like that.
Have you ever had a rat-encounter? Tell me about it! How did you triumph over the scoundrels?
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