A War Has Begun

The good news: the Wife and I are not crazy.  Skittles is not a ghost, as our pest control people have heard him with their own ears. 

The bad news: Skittles has a gang.  And we have inadvertently declared war on them.  We've taken it to the mattresses, except their mattresses are apparently in our attic.

You see, after weeks and weeks of futile visits and inspections, after the ratio of insulation to traps had begun approaching unity, something finally snapped for our pest control people.  Literally.  A rat was found dead last week.

And you think we would be rejoicing, except that after the corpse was disposed of, Skittles and whatever associates he has remaining in his employ threw a pow-wow, knocking over traps in rage and running laps overhead (because running laps is a surefire way to convey anger and violent intent, I hear) to let us know that they would not be going quietly into the night.

The pest control folks appear prepared for an escalation in conflict. 

So, the Wife and I must wait and see who makes the next move. 

Joy.