The Rats.

[Kitosdad]

They're back. I can hear them scurrying to and fro in the passage.

I've heard them every night this week, but I've never been brave enough to venture from
my warm bed to try to kill or even chase them.

I've looked everywhere to exactly find where they are getting into the house, but as yet, I've had no success.

Even the man from Council, who says he believes me, but always walks behind me whenever we go searching the house for them, can't find any trace of them.
I'm not entirely happy with the strange looks he gives his mate when we are searching my house. Does he think I'm crazy or something?

I'm going to write to his boss about him. He is incapable of doing his job.
Just how he has been able to keep this job for twenty years is beyond my comprehension!

I've just been on the Internet searching for answers to my problem, but I've tried everything that has been suggested, all to no avail. They must be getting in somewhere.

Tonight I will bolster my courage and try to kill one, then I will be able to show its body to that know-all from the Council.

So, here I am, waiting for the sound that terrifies me to near death. Forced to face my nightmare because of the incompetency of a Council worker.

Now I can hear them. They are in the passage.
I open my bedroom door slowly and almost faint at the sight which greets my eyes. There are hundreds of them in the passage, scurrying in every direction.
Turning to re-enter my bedroom they race in before me and I find myself surrounded by the little beasts.

I try to walk but the carpet is absolutely covered in them.
I stand on them, and in return I receive vicious bites to my feet and legs.
I can't move, they are everywhere.

I open my mouth and scream.

Kitos.
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Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[Richard]

Now good morning Kitos.
:D :D :shock:
I'm just reading your stories one by one.
:lol:
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[Kitosdad]

Hi Richard. Plenty there to go at. :) :)

Bill.
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Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[Richard]

Hi Bill. I'll definitely read all of them because I need to. Not only will it help improve my reading skill and learn new words but also it's enjoyable. however, I have read plenty of them and I didn't pass a comment.
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[Prezbucky]

Father of Kito

Our condo neighbor left the crawl-space portal open and possums (we delete the leading "O"...) got into that space between the first floor and the ceiling in the basement. So last winter a possum bitch got into that space and bore her possum babies there. The mama possum fell through the basement's ceiling tiles onto the basement floor, and we (woman, terrier and I) heard her basement entrance. So, with my woman holding our terrier bitch Molly (my avatar) upstairs, I went down there to face the mama possum.

The possum had fallen about seven feet onto the basement's floor. We locked eyes. She hissed at me, but made no move to attack.

Long story short, with bread I was able to get the hesitating mama out the basement door. It took about half an hour.

Of course Molly was going nuts upstairs, so I brought her down to sniff the basement.

I heard a hissing sound and thought, " Um, the mama is outside."

Then I heard a growl and saw my Molly grab a young possum and shake it in her mouth.

Molly was like a blur -- I was oblivious to the young possum's presence.

I YELLEd at Molly, and she dropped her young prey.

It was cool.

I'll write more later -- gotta take a piss.
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Billie Jean is not my lover. Hee.

[Prezbucky]

My Molly dropped the young possum. The poor thing was shaken and was cut around the ribs, but it did walk and I picked up the little bugger and took it outside so its mama could retrieve it.

I'll never forget my Molly's speed and voracity in attack. Terriers are known as vermin-killers; but until I heard my bitch do it, I guess I hadn't known their full entourage of bad-assedness.

And just today she took on our neighbor's 100-pound (~50 KG) German Shepherd bitch. Molly snarled, they went tooth to tooth, and the woman grabbed Molly before anything truly bad could happen. But you know what? My 18-pound Molly was fine... and the German Shepherd had a bloody lip. Terriers are bad-ass. I love my Molly.
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Billie Jean is not my lover. Hee.