Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis has left the building. The rat that died in a wall in our office did not, in fact, die in a wall. Yesterday the stench was really getting bad so I investigated more thoroughly. I finally realized it was centralized around my desk, not any wall. I frantically pulled out every drawer, looked behind bookcases, under junk – all to no avail. I finally grabbed a flashlight, laid flat on the floor and scanned the ratty horizon. There he was, crammed into my … gulp … heater. This is so gross, it’s hard to even write about but apparently the monster (and he WAS a monster) did indeed receive a mortal blow from the snap trap but lived long enough to pull himself free and drag his broken body into the nearest small space before dying. (I made the photo a thumbnail so as not to gross anyone out too much – just know I have a much grosser shot of him!)
I sit with this heater very close to my feet – like INCHES – because I work in a basement. It’s chilly down here. After finding and disposing of Elvis (and the heater), I left early and did four loads of laundry. Anything that could possibly have touched me during the last two weeks is now clean.
I sprayed about 1/2 a can of Lysol where the heater was and sprayed the rest of the can this morning. It smells comparitively good in here now but I can definitely detect a faint Eau du Rat.
So how’s that for karma? I buy rat traps, kill a rat and end up with it rotting in my lap. Next time I’ll leave the killing for somebody else.