Overheard some snarls this afternoon as the dogs were outside frolicking about in the backyard. I didn't want to do anything about it, for reasons apparent to any visitor to the Heart of Dupont: it's better to let them settle it out in the yard than to bring that business back in to gen-pop. But as I was preparing dinner on the grill, I saw the source of the drama. Wreck now has four bodies to his total, as the giant rat corpse out back testifies. He was a mean muchacho, too, easily fourteen inches long before we get to the tail. But you can't roll up on Rat-Killer Wreck and not get gotten.

It's clear now that the block is hot. The rats have to make a move. But surely they know, thanks to their dead comrades, that nothing they've done has worked so far.