Pack Rat in the Wood Stove

Hottie Husband is out of town. 

That could have truly been the problem with my giving up issue of yesterday's post. 

Or my hormones—take your pick.

About a month ago, my daddy called and said he missed me. 

Well, he actually said "you guys" which implies his grandchildren too.

 My cup ran right over when he said he and my step-mama were booking a flight to come see us.

It is a rare thing for us to find time together near the holidays. 

But, I didn't realize how it would work out so beautifully to have Grandpa and Nanny here while HH was away for a few nights. 

Especially tonight when Destructo Dog starts circling one of the wood burning stoves. 

I think it must be a mouse.

My dad asks for a flashlight and looks under and around.

No sign of a mouse. 

DD gets more agitated.

I decide to open the wood stove.

Staring back at me is one of these. 

PACK RATS!!!!

I scream, close it as fast as I can which is not very fast because I am panicking that it is going to jump out into the house. Then I  run in circles around the room until the heebeejeebees pass. 

 Mister Luke puts some peanut butter on a plate and my dad opens it again to discover that there is not one, but two pack rats in the stove. 

I take a picture. 

They like the peanut butter. 

Then the discussion begins.

Grandpa- We could burn them out. 

Nanny- No, it will begin to stink. 

Nanny- Do you have any D-CON?

Me- No, I don't think so.

Me- We might have some sticky traps.

Mister Luke- I can shoot them with my BB gun.

Me- No, that will only injure them. Here are the sticky traps.

Dad- That'll work. Then I'll pull them out with the fireplace tongs and put them in.. do you have a paper bag?

I see my dad in my mind thirty or so years ago. Strong and young, fighting a rat in my sister's bedroom. 

We sit outside the her bedroom door, hear furniture moving, things falling, dad yelling intermittently- aaah, ugghh, ahhh, augghh!

My sister and I laugh and laugh.

Finally, he comes out with a paper bag and smashes the bag in the driveway.

Me- Sure dad, I have a paper bag.

 The traps are set.

We wait to hear them clanking around. 

We hear them and Grandpa and the boys go to check.

The stinkers have taken the traps (too small to work) and have climbed back on a ledge in the back of the stove. They are too far to reach.

HH comes home tonight.

He and my dad will figure it out in the morning.

But, it sure was fun watching the boys try to catch a couple of pack rats in a stove with their grandpa.