We have a rat (see the photo above) who has been invading and raiding our kitchen and closets for days now.

She is among the most intelligent animals I’ve encountered, except for Rose and Red, two of my border collies. I’ve been taught to find rats disgusting and even dangerous, and I have killed all of those I could whenever they came into the house.

Something about rats has always felt creepy to me and many others, but for the first time, I’ve encountered a rat I am starting to respect, if not love. I don’t think I’ll get to love.

We won’t let her stay in our house and will kill her without hesitation when I can, but I suspect some of the rat hysteria and legend have gone a bit far or, at best, overlooked this animal’s intelligence and survival skills.

This year, all our area’s farms and private homes seem to be experiencing rodent invasions – rats, mice, moles, chipmunks – as those animals seek to escape the flooding and the cold. We get some of these every winter, but nothing like this year.

We first found rats in our home a couple of months ago; we set out some traps and killed them,  one by one, almost immediately.

The ones we didn’t get ourselves, Zip, our new barn cat, went after. He got a bunch. We found parts of them all over the barn. People from all over the country are sending me messages about the rats they killed and how they did it, but none are working with our rats.

But one rat keeps returning, she leaves no droppings or other marks, she comes in via a hole around a bathtub pipe. She ignores rat traps and the peanut butter we have always used to draw and kill rats. She knows where the bread and crackers are and squeezes through tiny holes and open doors to get to them, open them up, and eat or transport the rest.

She only eats and steals crackers or bread made with flour. She seems neat and efficient. I shiver at the idea of rat babies.

She has ignored or avoided every obstacle and trap that we set. Maria and I are committed to removing this rat and, if necessary, killing her. But I am starting to feel differently about her.

Rats frequently stand for squalor, lousy hygiene, crime, illness, misery, and death. Those are not things we like to associate with our much-loved old farmhouse. We don’t want or need rats here.

Rats are typical pests in the home; they are said to lurk in dark, unclean areas. This may contribute to this symbolic link of rats to bad things and the notion that they carry disease. Some do, some don’t. The same is true for many animals.

But our kitchen and house are spotless; there is no squalor, disease, misery, or death here. In one sense, our rat is doing the same thing we are doing – taking care of herself, taking what she needs. But there is no co-existing with her. She has to go one way or the other.

I can’t fault her for surviving; she has a family to feed, but I am not a committed Buddhist, and I will kill her if I can. It’s just a little fuzzier than he was.

Our battle with her is escalating. I’m pretty stubborn also, and so is Maria. I am beginning to cope with the fact that I may be against a superior intelligence.

Last week, we joined the Orwellian nation. We installed an Amazon security camera in the kitchen, and we finally got a photo of this rat who has been outsmarting us (see above). We sacrifice privacy for comfort.

I’m beginning to understand that she is more intelligent than I am.

I’ve never quite seen an animal like that; I’m starting to respect and admire her. She is wicked smart. In my curious mind, every animal who comes into my life – Rose, Red, Zip, Simon, Lulu, Fanny – comes for a reason, and the reason eventually reveals itself. Animals mark the passage of my life.

This rat – I won’t name her, that could lead to trouble – has come for a reason, and I have no idea what it might be. Perhaps it’s learning to be more empathetic about animals everyone else hates and learning to be more empathetic. Can I put myself in the shoes of a rat?

This rat sometimes hides in the stove, we’ve figured out.

She never leaves any animal droppings. She cares nothing for peanut butter but goes every my almond floor and plant-based crackers. She jumps up on counters, noses open cabinet doors, pushes out boxes with crackers or bread, hauls them across the kitchen floor, empties them, and eats them or brings them to her family. She leaves no signs of being there except for the crackers on the floor.

The experts looked at the photo and said the rat appeared to be a pregnant female. Yesterday, we escalated the war with this rat and the effort to get her out of our house. We got a humane cage to trap her, replaced the peanut butter with the crackers she was stealing – perhaps preparing for a new family – and set out a sonic transmitter that should annoy them.

In an extreme step for us, we even set out some poison (one that doesn’t harm dogs or cats or other animals) and put it around the hole and openings in the basement we think she uses to come into the house. So far, we’ve seen or heard nothing from her. We don’t know if she is finally dead or very much alive. We have a cracker-stuffed rat trap outside of the hole she uses to squeeze in. We will see her again, even though our crackers are locked up high and secure.

There are a lot of advisers out there, and a number suggest putting Zip down there in the basement. I wouldn’t say I like the idea. We’ve always handled rats before and will do it this time. He’s doing find where he is.

This rat would hide from him.

I’m surprised at how many people have had this problem this year.

I am also shocked by how savvy this rat is; she seems to understand everything we are doing, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she learned something from the rats who died at our hands and in our traps. She won’t go near anything that killed them.

We sleep at the moment with the camera in the kitchen turned on. If there is any motion, it will beep and alert us and take a picture. The first night, the camera went wild when the rat appeared. Last night, nothing. Is she dead? Is it stuffed with crackers? Dead from poison? I don’t know.

It was a surreal scene for us – lying in bed on a bitterly cold night, looking at the picture our camera had just taken and beeping up to us. “Look,” I said, “it’s a rat after all.” We both got up to investigate, and she was long gone when we got downstairs. Maria scrubbed every surface and tile floor in the kitchen.

The cat did leave a cracker trail we can use against her. Now we know how she got in and what she loves eating. I’ll use that.

She’s a remarkable animal, and I love remarkable animals. Where do the animal rights people stand on the rights of rats, I wonder?

I  have come to respect this cat and understand she is trying to survive a brutal winter. She seems careful not to harm or disrupt anything but the crackers. She does manage to get them out of the cabinets and onto the kitchen floor.

I am committed to capturing her or killing her if I can; I have no apologies or hesitations to make about it.

We don’t want a rat rampaging through our kitchen, eating food, or hiding in the stove. The security camera didn’t pick up any movement last night, so either she was sick or dead or had gone into hiding for a few days; she had enough crackers to last for a while.

I wondered if I could ever love a rat, and I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t feel it.

I feel justified in killing this rat and getting her out of my house. But I am revisiting some evil assumptions about cats and their history. Being blamed for carrying the plague in medieval times didn’t help their reputation.

But I have come to respect this one, and my plan if and when we catch her (I believe we will) is to take her and her trap out into the woods and let her loose.

A rat is as bright as that can survive anywhere.