Where my life gets a little Lovecraftian

    "And, most vivid of all, there was the dramatic epic of the rats—the scampering army of obscene vermin which had burst forth from the castle three months after the tragedy that doomed it to desertion—the lean, filthy, ravenous army which had swept all before it and devoured fowl, cats, dogs, hogs, sheep, and even two hapless human beings before its fury was spent. Around that unforgettable rodent army a whole separate cycle of myths revolves, for it scattered among the village homes and brought curses and horrors in its train."
     -H.P. Lovecraft, "The Rats in the Wall."

    Yes, my readers, I have rats.

    Filthy stinking evil rats.

    The problem began when I noticed a hole in our backyard I, mistakenly, assumed to be a snake hole. No, unfortunately, it was a borough of those foul and disgusting creatures who I have only loved in The Secret of NIMH.

    The borrow would be a problem by itself give our dogs make extensive use of the backyard but, unfortunately, the damned things got into our house. I thought they'd been taken care of but they managed to survive and now infest both the garage and the basement. It's going to be smelly but we're poisoning the creatures and have gotten the exterminators to come to the house.

    Ugh.

    I hate rats.