First it was rats in my attic. Now it's rats in my kitchen.
Rats in the attic were signaled by the scampering of tiny feet overhead while I was trying to sleep. Just a nuisance, and one that a few visits from the Rat Man quickly resolved.
Rats in the kitchen are another matter entirely. I discovered dirt all over the kitchen counter and worse, little rat poops along the backsplash and on the windowsill. I imagine them skittering behind the microwave and around the dishwashing liquid, and then pausing to gaze out the window, perhaps even resting for a moment under the sheltering branches of my miniature cedar tree. It sounds very picturesque, doesn't it?
Well, not so much. They are a messy visitor. Their ultimate destination in the kitchen is beneath the stove, where for some unknown reason they have torn out some of the insulation. Removing the storage drawer created a window into a rat's world, complete with more poops and a smattering of insulation particles, plus a whole lot of cat hair and two missing cat toys.
Now there are traps under the stove and also behind the drawers next to the dishwasher. So far they have been able to resist the tantalizing smell of peanut butter (this time it's Jif, although the Rat Man says they have no brand loyalty).
I feel bad about the traps, in a way. My little rodent visitors are just doing what God made them to do. But really, couldn't they please do it outside?