I haven’t wanted to face this, the noises from above, but tonight I feel ready to talk about it.
The ceiling of my room is very low as you might know if you saw the photo exemplifying this architectural nuance. Well, about every other day there is a noise coming from above, and with it being so near my head, it is quite noticeable. The first time it happened Carrie was in here with me, and we both cocked our heads and stared at each other, both of us not able to make a guess as to what could make such an odd noise. Imagine a shuffling mixed with scurrying mixed with tinkering. Since then I have heard it many times. I decided that the people above us have a dog. A small, cute, fluffy dog that enjoys playing with its green ball. In my mind there was no other option as it was definitely alive, definitely small, and definitely in the apartment above me.
Then David was over one time when the dog was feeling frisky. And, he immediately placed the sound as rat(s). “WHAT?! Noooo … really? But it sounds like a small dog, doesn’t it?”
“Well, there is no way that that your ceiling is also the floor of the people above you; it’s not thick enough. There is a space in between otherwise you would hear them walking and…”
“Okay, okay, stop talking! I felt much better thinking it was a dog. Please pretend it’s a dog with me.”
“Okay, yeah, it’s a dog.”
So, now, when I hear the dog/rat, I no longer know what to think, nor do I even want to acknowledge that it’s happening. It’s fairly loud. I wish you could hear it. It’s like the thing lives with me. We are only 1 foot to 4.5 feet apart at all times. I hope the ceiling never breaks like at the school (not the one I’m at right now, but a different one). A partially alive rat fell out of the ceiling, a student picked it up and attempted to hand it to a teacher, another student slapped the first student’s hand, sending the rat flying, the teacher screamed for help from another teacher, the second teacher put a trashcan over the rat and brought it to a Taiwanese guy next door. This is a guy who is completely unassociated with the school other than the fact that his security guard job includes watching the little kiddos next door walk to and from the park singing “The Ants Go Marching” every Tuesday and Thursday. Well, now it means he occasionally disposes of rats. Here there are no backyards or big trashcans that sit in the garage or out in the street, so “dispose” entails…hmmm, nevermind.