by allthoughtswork

I must’ve heard Patton’s rat story six times by now and I still laugh my ass off. Here’s why.

I live in a suburban duplex surrounded by white trash and Trumpian zeitgeist. Case in point, I noticed my elderly duplex neighbors leaving peanuts out for the squirrels. This attracts rats.

Not just any rats, but big-ass, take you down in the alley, fight you with one hand tied behind their back Norway rats. Rats that can make a German Shepherd whine in broad daylight.


Image result for rats funny


I told my neighbor to stop it. She rolled her eyes and said the squirrels were “cute.”

I started bumping into the rats at night in my backyard–like literally bumping into them. Little fuckers have so shame or fear: If you meet them on a concrete walkway, they don’t move aside. They just pause and level a beady gaze on you like they’re sizing up your soul.

I told my neighbor this. She said she wasn’t feeding the rats, she was feeding the squirrels. The squirrels were cute.

I took a deep breath and slowly and carefully gave her the These Aren’t Disney Characters, These Are Vermin Speech and lingered on all the highlights: feces, dander, a potpourri of unpleasant diseases, wrecked gardens, larger predators like coyotes moving in (which I’d seen), fleas on her cats, etc. She said she was making sure there wasn’t any food left out after nightfall.

I took another deep breath and asked her if she noticed how squirrels tend to stuff their gob with food, then run off someplace else to nibble on it, dropping half of it on the ground for the rats to find. She said she didn’t. I pointed out that she didn’t notice it because the hairy little shits were coming over to MY yard to drop their buffet leavings. This is how I knew she was feeding them in the first place, I had discarded peanut shells all over my patio.

She said the squirrels were cute.

For months, I listened to the sound of rats, mice, and godknowswhatelse scurrying around under our building’s shared crawlspace every night. One day, I opened my cupboard and found a mouse staring me smack in the face. The landlady was called; the landlady did nothing. This is what our landlady does best.

I tried the homeowners association, the police, the code officers, and even the county legal library. Nothing, no help.

Then, it happened. The squirrel-lover met a rat big as Nebraska in her back yard.

$150 dollars and two days later every living thing–including the poor squirrels–in a three house radius had been poisoned by some indiscriminate company and their death pellets. It took two years for the ecosystem to recover. God, what assholes.

To this day, my neighbor complains bitterly about how expensive the “solution” was to the rat problem (not HER rat problem, THE rat problem) and how mean the landlady was not to chip in. Later, I learned this thumping moron had also been leaving her sliding door open and coaxing squirrels INTO HER HOUSE to feed them. Her carpeted house. With two cats. And a litany of medical problems including a weak heart and a compromised immune system which heavy smoking has been unable to cure.

She listens to me now, for the most part, but her fumes still come into my windows at night.

Fuck, I need to move.


Image result for rats funny



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