No such luck.
Like the Sith, our rats come in twos. We have slain the apprentice, but the master is still at large. Lurking. Waiting.
We found strong scatalogical evidence that the rat had spent some time browing around our bedroom, and Paula was so freaked out that I thought we were going to have to pack up and move into a new apartment on the spot.
We hereby declare a state of war on any and all rodents which have the misfortune to be found in our apartment. And to all “bystanders” just remember–you are either with us or you are with the rats.