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A Dog's Life

January 19th, 2010 (12:17 pm)
Tags: ,

current mood: busy

This is the BEST.DAY.EVER to be a dog at The Compound.

First of all, the exterminator is here--will be here for several hours, giving the canines reasons to sporadically break into howls and barks. He's doing an exclusion at Tim's apartment. For those who don't remember the Great Rat Ordeal of Aught-Six, the exterminator did the same thing to the house because we had a darling group of rats--RATS! Not mice!--colonizing the attic. After the rats began dying and tried to kill Margot, we made a treaty. They would go away and we'd let bygones be bygones.

Sadly, in rats as in humans, a new generation comes along and refuses to heed the lessons of its elders or honor their peace pacts. Since these rogue rats couldn't get access to the house, they decided to settle in the mostly unexplored territory of Tim's apartment. (I say mostly because there are those pesky palmetto bugs who like to vacation there a couple of times a year, and that one squirrel who tried life as a squatter in one of the walls back in 2000.) Now the exterminator will deal with the rodents of a new generation and close off all their access points. Instead of using poison and risking more Margot drama, he'll be setting traps. Which means that Tim, Rexford, and Pixie could potentially be awakened several times a night by the snap, crackle, and pop of rodent carnage.

In addition to the exterminator, Energy Company No. 1 came to check our meter, because Energy Company No. 2 has pretty much destroyed my happy mood since January 4. Over the howls of the hounds, the two [utility company name redacted] dudes gave me lots of useful information that may help us resolve a River Oaks-sized power bill in our little Montrose bungalow and garage apartment. (At least the rats are warm.)

Just when the dogs thought it couldn't get any better, the mail carrier came at the exact time That Dog We Hate was being walked past the house. I'd write more, but they've finally fallen asleep, and I don't want the key-tapping to wake them--d'oh! The exterminator just knocked and the hounds are back on the job!


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