When we moved into our new place last spring, I loved the environment. Set between several orchards, the rural atmosphere was a welcome change from the big cities where I had spent most of my life. I am a cleaning fanatic, and immediately set about scrubbing the entire place, including the nine foot walls. My kitchen and bathroom remain spotless, and I proudly proclaimed no critters, pests or bugs would ever live in my home.
Smugly, I kept the floors so clean and shiny that a visitor asked when we had installed new flooring. One thing that made me slightly uneasy were holes in the cupboard, and along the base of the floors. Our place has adjoining units on either side, and I realized there were open areas at the back of the sink and cupboards that allowed pipes to run through to our neighbors units. I gave it little thought at the time, but that little niggle of concern remained at the back of my mind.
One morning I awoke to the sound of chainsaws ripping through my dreams. The fellow who owns the orchard directly across from us was clearing the apple trees in that field. He planned to plant a new strain of fruit in their place. The clearing went on for several weeks, and I chalked up the annoying sound and resulting dust as part of living the country life. Once the field was cleared on the surface, large machines came in to remove the stumps. That was fun, waking up to a loud whump, as they removed each stump. It seemed to go on for years, but in reality, it was over in a few weeks.
Right about that time, one of our neighbors mentioned that the last time a nearby field was cleared, she opened an old, unused duct for a fireplace. When she peered inside, she realized there were mice living in the space. Relating the story, she reported shrieking, slamming the cover back on the duct, and stated she refused to look in there again. Being practical minded, I asked her what she thought had become of the mice family. Shrugging, she said they probably went elsewhere or died. Cringing, I said my goodbyes and left.
By now, it was late summer to early fall. There was a brief respite before the whumps started again. This time it was a hole digger, making holes for the news trees. As the orchard began filling up with the little trees, the weather started to turn cool, and then cold. One night, the unthinkable happened. I was sitting in the living room with my sweetheart, Robbie, when a small, gray creature streaked by. I screamed at Robbie to do something, quick! He told me there was nothing to worry about, the mouse was afraid of us and wouldnt be back.
Right, like that has ever discouraged any mouse before. At my insistence, Robby set a mousetrap. We here a loud click during the night, Robbie smiled and said that was the last we would ever see of rat fink, the mouse. As I refused to even look near the trap, Robbie disposed of rat fink. Still, I got out my brightest flashlight, and carefully crept along when getting up in the night and making my way to the bathroom.
Sure enough, a few days later evidence of another mouse appeared in my kitchen. I was outraged! How dare this critter invade my spotless kitchen. I cleaned furiously, made sure no food was out, and again declared my home a pest free zone. Then, I opened a cupboard and cornmeal poured out. Devastated, I went through the entire cupboard and had to throw nearly everything out. Rat fink was back and clearly brought friends and family.
I found small holes in the cupboard corners and plugged them with foam hardener. Scrubbing the entire cupboard, I refilled it with cans so rat fink and company had no food. One night, I walked into my spotless, shiny kitchen, and watched a mouse run across my clean counter. I yelled for Robbie, he came running just in time to see a second rat fink mouse race across the same counter. I was livid. I went on a rant and said if it took every minute of the day I was going to find rat fink and strangle him.
With firm determination, I went to the local superstore and purchased little traps that contained green stuff. The directions on the bag assured me that a mouse would run in, eat some of the green stuff, run back out through a second tunnel and that would be the end of the mouse. I placed the little traps in strategic spots, and soon we started finding evidence that rat fink was eating it. We thought our troubles were over. A week later we were still finding bright green droppings as evidence that rat fink was eating this stuff and thriving on it. Another mouse ran into the bathroom while I was in there and I furiously threw things at him, to no avail.
The next day I went into the utility room and moved a box, only to see Trisodium Phosphate, a poisonous heavy duty cleaning agent, scattered around the floor. Peering closer, I realized rat fink had chewed through the corner of the bag, gotten into the poison, and based on the evidence he had eaten it! This was the last straw. Not only did rat fink leave glowing green droppings, now he was eating poison and still running amok.
Tears of frustration filled my eyes as I called Kapture Pest Control Company and explained we had mutant, radioactive rat fink mice invading our home. They were so nice and understanding that I quickly got over the shame I felt at having pests invade my home. They came right out, and I noticed them looking over the area surrounding our home. Then, they came over and all was revealed. They explained how common an occurrence this type of invasion was when an orchard was cleared and replanted. Displaced from their usual dwellings, the rat fink mice family found a new home.
Admittedly, I had doubts that Kapture Pest Control Company could complete rid our home of rat fink and company. That night, I listened closely for the scrabbling sounds of any mice. Nothing stirred, so I crept in with my flashlight and jumped into the kitchen, ready to catch rat fink at work. There was nothing there. The next day I carefully examined the usual areas but found no bright green glowing droppings.
A week passed and I searched day and night for any evidence of remaining mice. Finally, I was able to sleep, rat fink was truly gone for good.