Friday, as I was walking passed the kid’s upstair’s bathroom, I caught a whiff of something rancid. I went in to inspect further, looking all around, I was unable to find anything. I began to suspect that maybe the kids had disregarded a bologna sandwich or worse, something had died in there.

We’ve had issues with mice in the walls and attic. You may recall my heartfelt letter to the rat family we would be annihilating. Since then, we occasionally hear scratching in the walls, but haven’t gotten around to the second onslaught. In September, my littlest baby, Matilda, caught and killed one that dared enter our domain.

Then there was the random slaying of a small bird which was subsequently left under our bed as a gift. We were in Illinois for Thanksgiving and came home to tails of our cleaning lady’s discovery. We’re not sure how it got in the house and we’re unable to determine who the did the killing and presentation. My best guess is Matilda. She’s already got one live-kill under her belt and she’s the kind of crazy cat that would leave us dead animals, she seems the likely choice.

“Something dead”, you see, is not a far stretch. We live in a rather rural, tree-filled area of Pasadena and this sort of thing has become commonplace for us. I don’t like it very much, but this is where we live. There are rats and possum and stray cats and deer and coyote and squirrels and raccoons…oh my.

When the exterminators came the last time, they sealed up the walls pretty good. I realized this wouldn’t be enough to keep them out. If mice and rats want to come in, they will. Turns out, rats can squeeze through a hole no bigger than the size of a quarter. Awesome. Sealed out and caught never meant that the “smart” rats wouldn’t remain in the attic happily living off…whatever they find up there. Most likely practicing cannibalism and strange rituals. This also never meant they couldn’t figure out new and exciting ways to get into the house. I figure they’re getting in through the outside basement and climbing up the walls. This also means, you can’t ever totally get rid of them. Not fully. A constant battle for years on end.

At first I thought the horrible smell coming from the bathroom was a backed up toilet. Living in an old house, that kind of stuff seems to happen all the time. I filled the toilet with enzymes to clear any potential blockage. I closed the door. Later that night, I showed AJB the smell and was nearly knocked on my ass from the sheer potency of it; it had been closed off in a small room for hours. I couldn’t stand it! It was the most horrible smell I’d ever smelled. It was awful. I almost barfed! I also couldn’t get the smell out of my brain. Ick, ick, ick!!!!! Hands down, worst smell I’ve ever encountered…in my life.

AJB confirmed my worst fear that some mystery animal had died somewhere, most likely in the walls or attic. OK, now what? I called the Humane Society for advice. They referred me to the “under the house guy”, the guy that’s crazy enough to go into your attic or under your house to retrieve animal corpses. Turns out, the “under the house guy” is indeed a bit crazy. The next day, he talked my ears off about what he does, how he does it, how much it costs (although we never got a straight answer), and how he might have to use a *saw-zaw to cut through the walls – something he didn’t want to do. He repeated himself several times, never let me talk, and interrupted me when I tried. I told him I had to talk to my husband; a woman’s most helpful tactic when dealing with contractors and work people. When he called later, I let AJB handle it so he could understand my colorful description of the guy. This guy was nuts, but we hired him anyway.

He showed up, a little guy with a Tom Hattan beanie. He went up in the attic, looked around and determined it was in the walls. All he could do was spray high powered deodorizer. We would have to wait until the smell dissipated on it’s own. In Winter, that could take a month or so. The animal would turn to dust and bones, forever trapped in our walls. Which made me wonder: How many other corpses are lodged between the walls of our 100 year old home? Probably dozens.

Until the smell goes away, that bathroom is closed for business. We’ve left the window open hoping the rain doesn’t get in and mold the place up. As an added bonus, my allergies have been off the hook for days. I suspect it’s a dead animal allergy.

Sometimes owning a house isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

*He actually meant Sawzall, but pronounced it “Saw-Zaw”.