I killed a rat in the kitchen last night.
Yesterday morning I found a bag of bread on top of the fridge that had been chewed into by a creature of some kind. Eating bread is one thing, but the creature had also pooped on top of the fridge, which is really just very rude. So I set up a mine field of a half dozen rat traps baited with the remaining bread last night. I was watching some news about the Iowa caucuses around midnight when I heard a big SNAP!
I ran in to see what it was, and there was a decent-sized rat with his head in the trap. The wire came down on his neck, and he was still kicking a bit when I got in there. After about 30 seconds he went limp. His body was probably six or seven inches long, and his tail was another six or seven. He was gray and actually kind of smooth and clean looking, not as "ratty" as some rats. For a moment I had a wierd temptation to touch his fur and see what it felt like, but I got over that pretty quickly.
I live in a small house in a suburban neighborhood. The lot is 90 feet by 60 feet, and that is my "territory." I reserve the ultimate authority over what lives and dies within my territory. The house is 1270 square feet, and that is my "lair." Woe be it to any creature foolhardy enough to venture unbidden into my lair...