I think the hacking thing is under control. The rats, I’m not so sure about.
I want to leave land mines for them, too – or rather, bait stations filled with tasty morsels that will send them off elsewhere to savor their meals and slip into oblivion. Don’t bother lecturing me about catch-and-release traps or what have you. It would be one thing if it were, I don’t know, kittens. These aren’t kittens.
They’re the same size, but the resemblance ends there.
I call several pest control services, and they all tell me the same thing: We can be there as soon as you want us, but there’s no point in us coming out once. You need to commit to a service for some period of time.
The people with the best price want me – no surprise – to commit to the longest time, a year.
I have no idea if I’ll be living here in a year. I don’t know if I’ll be living here at Halloween, for chrissake.
I’ll know soon enough, of course. And I remind myself it’s unlikely there are rats in the house, because I would have heard them in the walls and floors.
I listen a lot.