A Rat in My Basement or That Pretty Much Says it All

Greetings from the coffee table. No, I'm not writing as the coffee table. I am actually seated on the coffee table. After moving it what I consider to be a safe distance from the sofa I grabbed the computer and climbed up here. Earlier this evening I was in the kitchen enjoying some silence which is the same as saying My Beloved was not at home when I heard a squeak. It was a whistly creaky kind of squeak. I stood still to listen more closely but needn't have because next I heard a shreaking similar to one of those squeaky chew toys for dogs only one that is being tortured. Worse still it was doing a great job illustrating the doppler effect in a most unfavorable direction on the basement stairs. Next thing you know I'm perched on the kitchen counter thinking "Who's that screaming?"
Not inconsistently Dogzilla and Princess came over to examine me curiously while Killer ran over to the basement stairs to investigate the ongoing sounds of torture. Smidgen I concluded was the one doing the torturing. Thank heavens My Beloved is on speed dial. "Hello?" he answered unsuspectingly from the Corner Bar. I clearly stated: "Come home right now. Smidgen is fighting with a rat in the basement! It sounds like they're coming upstairs." Apparently all he heard was: "AHHEEHOOOHAHHH!" because his only reply was "What?" A couple of blood curdling screams later he finally pulled up in the alley and thundered in through the backdoor to find me still seated on the kitchen counter and waving an accusatory finger at the basement stairs.
This evening My Beloved filled his My Hero roll for the week when he quickly and efficiently rescued all the pets, identified the crack through which the rat had entered, sealed off the basement and moved the cat box to higher ground. I see a trip to the hardware store in his future.