When Niki and I were married, we had a deal: She will kill the bugs. It's not that I don't want to kill the bugs, but, well, I don't want to kill the bugs. Don't deal well with them and never have. But an animal in our attic? We had to call someone.
"I'll call Orkin in the morning and someone will come out," Niki said.
I had a feeling this would be a more significant job. But the notion that Niki would call put me at ease. As the day went on, though, Niki was tied up at work and all I could think about was our noise. Whatever it was had gerth. It had to be an opposum. We've seen them in the backyard. But how did it get there?
Over the course of the day I began looking online (side note: If you have something living in your attic and you can't identify it, don't look online, you will only get more freaked out...) to see what it might be and who might be employable to remove it. After a few searches, I took it on myself to call the first company I could find that specialized in animal removal.
At the end of the day, they called back. Someone could come out tomorrow.
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