A long time ago, I lay in a hammock with Hamish, our great mate Caspar hanging next to us and we watched an army of ants march through our hut, over our belongings and out the other side. A few minutes later, we heard the people in the hut next door screaming and leaping around. The ants had continued their journey into their backpacks and instead of waiting for them to come out and carry on with their mission, they had disturbed them by frantically emptying the contents of their bags. The ants, under threat, had attacked mercilessly and our German neighbours were covered in angry red bites.
Leaving them to go about their business, they brought us no harm.
I met a lady the other day who lives here. For six long lovely months over winter, she exchanges her little cottage in Hampshire for a positively palatial pad in Goa, complete with large grounds, swimming pool and staff. They are often visited by snakes. Her gardener or nightwatchman alerts her, letting her know if it is harmful (more often than not this means deadly!). If it is a particularly venomous type, they call in the Snake Man, otherwise they just keep an eye on it so they know where it goes and wait for it to leave.
Same same as they say in India.
I've applied this concept to my rat issue and it works. We make sure there's no food, and now they come and go then leave us in peace. So even with their scratching presence, I can sleep. And, as if in answer to my acceptance of them, the squeaking seems to have stopped.
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