As a veteran of a mouse infestation I could only escape by moving apartments (condolences to the new tenants, but the landlord threatened me), I appreciated Aaron Timms’s bald acknowledgment of the futility of pest control efforts. I agree.
Exterminators came to my infested home, laid out poisoned peanut-butter traps, and charged me hundreds of dollars, only to conclude that the issue was too far gone, the result of connected buildings. Solving it would require monthly maintenance, bankrolled by yours truly. Three days later, I’d find a hole in my whole wheat bread or freshly disgorged pellets on a can of soup. I became paranoid, head spinning with conspiracy theories—the maddening effect of these diminutive, devious invaders eating away at my sanity as they ate my groceries. Was the exterminator intentionally making things worse? Luring more mice with condiments so I’d rely on him in perpetuity?
Mayor Eric Adams’s renewed effort, the so-called War on Rats, includes $877,000 in permanent funding for twelve new full-time staff, led by a “team of experts.” I’m all for …