I Thought I Had an Ant Problem. Turns Out, I Had a Denial Problem.

The Appetizer: When Ants Were the "Big" Problem

I used to think ants were my nemesis. Two young kids means food debris in places you didn't know existed—behind radiators, inside outlet covers, somehow on the ceiling—and ants are nature's forensic investigators with better success rates than the FBI. My arsenal was simple: Terro ant baits and Ortho Home Defense perimeter spray. I'd bought so much Terro that Home Depot's quarterly earnings probably mentioned me by name.

Spoiler: I was treating symptoms, not solving the problem. Also spoiler: Ants would soon become the least of my problems, like being worried about a hangnail while your house is on fire.

Here's what the pest control pros use—and it's so effective they probably don't advertise it widely or they'd lose repeat customers:

I got all three from diypestwarehouse.com for less than what I'd spent on Terro over the years [2] Professional pest control user reviews confirm Alpine WSG "truly eliminates ants when used per label" . Problem solved permanently.

Little did I know, I'd soon look back on ant problems with nostalgia.

Act I: The Squirrel Tunnels

My backyard looked like a whack-a-mole arena designed by the Army Corps of Engineers. Squirrels had dug tunnels connecting my yard to all three neighbors, creating an interstate highway system beneath my lawn that would make the Boring Company jealous. They'd killed trees by destroying roots. Majestic? Sure. Expensive? Absolutely. Humiliating? You have no idea.

What didn't work:

• Peppermint oil (they literally sat in it grooming themselves, possibly enjoying the spa experience)
• Cayenne pepper (apparently just added seasoning to their dirt-flavored meal)
• Fox urine, coyote urine (deterred them for approximately 36 hours before they held a town hall meeting and decided I was bluffing)

What worked: ¼" galvanized hardware cloth [3] University of Nebraska Extension: ¼" hardware cloth excludes mice; ½" excludes rats buried along fence lines and over problem areas. Squirrels can't chew through steel. Yet.

Here's the gear:

• ¼" hardware cloth
• Galvanized staples

I also learned the golden rule: Harvest fruit daily. Fallen fruit is a rodent buffet invitation. Your fruit trees are lovely. They're also enemy collaborators.

At this point, I felt competent. Victorious, even.

This hubris would be my downfall.

Act II: The Denial Phase

Week 1: Found my son's outgrown car seat in the garage with shredded cushions. "Weird," I thought, donating it immediately and pretending I hadn't seen what I'd seen. This is called "strategic ignorance," a skill I've honed to perfection.

Week 3: Wife reported seeing rats in the backyard vegetable garden. "You're probably mistaken," I said, because I'm an idiot who thinks problems disappear if you ignore them hard enough.

Week 5: Wife saw a mouse run into our fireplace. "That seems unlikely," I said, now approaching Olympic-level denial.

Week 7: Our kitchen trash can looked like a confetti factory. Paper shredded everywhere. Droppings. Evidence of indoor habitation.

I could no longer pretend. The enemy was inside the gates.

Act III: The War (and What Actually Worked)

Step 1: Identification

Using the Contra Costa Vector Control brochure, I determined we had a juvenile roof rat. Droppings in the garage cabinet confirmed it was living there.

Step 2: The Traps

I deployed a combination strategy:

• Glue traps (yes, inhumane; no, I didn't care anymore)
• Snap traps for mice or rats
• Peanut butter as bait [4] CDC recommends chunky peanut butter as the best bait for snap traps

The pre-bait trick: Leave traps unset for 2-3 nights so rodents build trust. Then engage the trap on night 3 [4] CDC: Pre-baiting helps cautious rodents, especially rats, become accustomed to traps .

I baited the traps and within an hour—while the peanut butter smell still hung in the air—the rat emerged and got stuck on a glue trap. Apparently, his love of Skippy outweighed his survival instincts. One down. I left traps everywhere for a week. No more activity. Lucky me: just one rat. (Well, one indoor rat. The outdoor census was pending.)

Step 3: Find the Entry Points

This is where most people fail. Killing the current resident is pointless if you leave the door open for the next one [5] NPS Rodent Exclusion Manual: Exclusion is the most permanent solution to rodent problems .

My vulnerabilities:

1. Garage door weatherstripping: Huge gaps. Had it professionally replaced, then added this sealing strip for an airtight seal.
2. Bottom corners of garage door jambs: Gaps large enough for entry. Filled with copper mesh [6] Wildlife Damage Management: Copper mesh is gnaw-resistant for permanent exclusion (rodents can't chew through copper) then sealed with mortar.
3. Water heater pipe openings: Sealed with silicone caulk using a caulking gun and GE silicone sealant.
4. Cabinet gaps: Copper mesh + caulking.
5. Fireplace: Professional cleaning and back-sealing.
6. Perimeter and attic: Hired a rodent-proofing company to seal all exterior holes and jam steel wool under stucco gaps [3] UNL Extension: Rats need only ½" gaps to enter; mice need ¼" gaps .

Step 4: The Outdoor Perimeter

Placed snap traps around the house exterior. Two weeks later: two dead roof rats. The bait stations I bought? Completely useless. Still untouched months later. Stick with snap traps.

The Unexpected Silver Lining

Nothing motivates a decade-overdue junk purge like the knowledge that a rodent has been living in your ski equipment. We cleared out three-quarters of our garage, organized the remaining quarter into sealed bins, and now actually have room to park. I didn't know that was possible. I thought garages were just expensive storage units attached to your house.

The rat didn't just teach me pest control. It taught me that clutter is harborage, and harborage is an invitation. Marie Kondo couldn't have been more persuasive with a baseball bat.

The Checklist: Your Battle Plan

Prevention (Do This First)

Outdoor:

• Harvest fruit/nuts daily—don't leave them on the ground
• Trim vegetation 4ft from roof, walls, fences
• Store firewood 18" off ground, 12" from structures
• Repair leaky faucets
• Install ¼" hardware cloth on vulnerable fence areas
• Feed pets only what they'll finish immediately

Garage:

• Replace damaged weatherstripping (get airtight seals)
• Seal door jamb gaps with copper mesh + mortar
• Seal all pipe/wire entry points with caulk
• If renovating: hinged cabinet doors only, never sliding
• Purge clutter; store remaining items in sealed bins

Interior:

• Seal gaps around all pipes (kitchen, bathroom, utility)
• Seal holes in walls, floors, ceilings
• Check HVAC ductwork for damage
• Seal garage-to-house wall gaps
• Clean and seal fireplace

Active Control (When You Have Unwanted Guests)

Ants:

• Alpine WSG (indoor baseboards)
• Termidor/Taurus SC (outdoor perimeter)
• Advion gel (targeted spots)

Squirrels:

• ¼" hardware cloth barriers (only thing that works)

Rats/Mice:

• Snap traps with peanut butter bait
• Pre-bait for 2-3 nights, then engage
• Place along walls, in travel paths
• Check daily
• Glue traps as backup (less humane, more desperate)

One Year Later

It's been months. No new activity. Traps outside remain empty. The garage is still organized (mostly). I now inspect weatherstripping quarterly like a paranoid person, which is to say, like a person who has learned from experience.

Was it worth the effort? Consider the alternative: living in denial while rodents colonize your home, or paying $2,000+ for pest control to do what you can do for under $200 in materials.

I chose the DIY nuclear option. No regrets.

The lesson: Repellents are fairy tales. Baits and poisons have mixed results. Exclusion — sealing every possible entry point — is the only permanent solution. Traps handle the current residents. Maintenance prevents future ones.

And if someone tries to sell you on peppermint oil or ultrasonic devices, know that a rat is laughing at you somewhere. Probably from inside your walls. Possibly while grooming itself with your "deterrent" peppermint oil.

Have questions or your own war stories? I'm not a professional exterminator—just a homeowner who learned the hard way. But I'm happy to share what worked (and what spectacularly didn't).