Rat Bastard

So we have a mouse. Yeah, a mouse. The other morning when I was sitting at the computer I heard this weird noise and usually when I hear something weird I just blame one of the stupid cats, but they were both sprawled out on the floor next to me so I knew it wasn't them. Then I heard it again and knew without a doubt that it had to be a mouse, well, that or the world's smallest burglar, but either way I was confident that both could be caught in a trap.

So this morning at 4:58 AM I heard another weird noise and to be honest, at first, in my sleepy state, it sounded like the buttons on my alarm were being pushed. I was sleeping with my back to the alarm and I have to tell you that for a brief moment my imagination went loopy and I convinced myself that there must be a ghoulish specter standing behind me, and the worst thing that he could think to do to me was piss with my alarm. No, I am not joking.

After I realized that that was insane, probably, I listened again and thought, "Damn stupid cat! What in the hell is she chewing on now?" Then I started whisper-yelling her name and I tossed my pillow in her general direction, but still the noise continued. Ooooohhhhh, it's that mouse. So I told Mike that I thought our mouse buddy was visiting, or mocking, or both, and he decided to give up his last fifteen minutes of sleep to commence Operation: Seek and Destroy Rodent.

I heard all kinds of commotion, but off and on I still heard that noise, My God THAT NOISE! I have a very low thresh hold for irritating sounds. I will not hesitate to smack you upside the head if you start slurping your cereal, or if you snap your gum, and don't even get me started on whistling. I have almost maimed Mike on more than one occasion for tapping his fingers.

I believe the word you are looking for is, anyway...................................

I told Mike that I wouldn't share the part of this story where I go downstairs to get an update on the mortality of the rodent and I find him standing on an end table, in his underwear, wearing a rubber glove, removing insulation from the ceiling while holding a garbage bag. You know, the official uniform of exterminators everywhere.

Anyway.....................................

Mike set several traps all over the basement and as we are standing there discussing how this rat bastard infiltrated our home, we see him staring at us from the eves; mocking, judging, laughing. So we tried an intimidation technique where we held Bella up to the ceiling to scare the shit out of the mouse and force him to surrender to the awesome power of the cat, but Bella is all, "Hi there. Welcome. The food is over there and for your comfort we have a kitty bed available under the steps, enjoy your stay." Stupid cat.

After a FANTASTIC impersonation of Bill Murray in Caddy Shack, Mike left for work and not two seconds after he shut the door I heard a noise and some squeaking. Now, I may feel the need to inflict pain on anyone who dares to loudly lick their lips in my presence, but I am not for animal cruelty and I felt bad that the trap didn't just kill the thing immediately. Let me rephrase that, I felt bad for a while, until I realized that the trap probably only caught its tail because it has been running through the ceiling dragging the trap for a good twenty minutes now. What do you think will kill me first, the ridiculously loud ruckus of a rodent hurling itself through my ceiling or not knowing where the body is when the thing finally gives up the good fight?