Year of the RAT...

I woke this morning at 5am to hear something rustling in my room. I grew up with two cats, so late-night (or, in this case, early-morning) rustling, not to mention large furry thing jumping on bed, was not a rare occurrence. However, remembering that both my childhood pets had been gathered to their ancestors, and that I was living in a pet-free household, the horrible realisation quickly dawned that SOMETHING FURRY AND UNINVITED was exploring my bedroom. Then - oh horror of horrors - it started squeaking. My mind leapt to the Dick Whittington story tape my brother and I used to listen to when we were little. When Dick gets his first room in London, he has to try and sleep at night while rats scurry over his bedclothes...

I used my mobile to try and throw light on the corner from which the suspicious rustling and squeaking seemed to be emanating...nothing. I calculated how many strides it would take me to reach my bedroom door, and the likelihood of my sudden movement causing aforementioned scurrying over my naked feet. And if I took my duvet with me, with a view to trying to kip elsewhere, I would be impeded by its weight, which could cost me valuable seconds when fleeing the room. In the end, I ran for it.

Unfortunately, in the middle of the night when one is sleep-deprived, one's brain starts throwing out irrational panicky thoughts. Obviously I was a bigger slob than I realised - I knew other people left dirty plates in their rooms from time to time, but I'd never heard of other people attracting RATS! How long would it take Rentokil to get here? Maybe they wouldn't have any available slots today? Would the Rentokil man nod knowingly when entering my room and say "I thought so - we got a classic slob scenario here." Would I ever feel comfortable sleeping in my lovingly decorated room again?

Fortunately, as for Dick Whittington, morning brought calm and sanity. My supervisor, Kerry, tells me that this is a side effect of living in London, and that all the houses round here get MICE once a year. Not huge, smelly, fearsome rats, but tiny, cute little mousies. In the cold light of day I discovered what had attracted them - an unopened bag of sushi rice, now sporting a little mouse-tooth-sized hole in the bottom. Apparently the best way to deal with them is to lay down traps. The question is, can a vegetarian countenance bringing such violent deaths to these small furry pieces of creation?

You betcha, I need my sleep.