Rats

Rats… I knew we’d find evidence of rodents under the dishwasher. Knew it. After dad died and I started spending more time with mom on the Island there was evidence of rodents… Poop in the closet, pee stains on the wood floor, the vacuum cord chewed through, tho mom thought the vacuum just stopped working. Our AN fixed the vacuum. I cleaned the house and made sure the pest company was still on board… I was on my hand and knees cleaning an 1100 sqft house of all rodentia residue, while my mother tried to dissuade me of the need…

Finding the rat’s nest under the dishwasher was, ah, difficult. This, on top of all sorts of other marginal things I’ve documented in this blog, make me realize that my folks were prime clients for APS: Adult Protective Services. Or the Health Department. Shit, my DH and I have a low grade mouse war going on in the atrium, a non-conditioned air space built onto on the house by the previous owner. We work actively to mouse proof this space and catch mice… My folks did not do anything to mitigate rodent entry to their kitchen wall. It is very difficult to witness this sort of disfunction in your parents years after their passing. I can’t wait to replace the oven…

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