Sacramento is being overrun by rats. My cats and food storage practices aren’t helping

Orkin, the pest control outfit, conducted a survey of the top 50 cities and their habitability for rats.

Sacramento came in 29th. Los Angeles came in second, San Francisco fifth. Chicago was first.

Chicago isn’t Second City, rat-wise. Los Angeles: Always a rat bridesmaid, never a rat bride. New York is third, which is lower than I would have guessed given the presence of Rudy Giuliani.

Sacramento is bracketed by Richmond, Va., (28th) and St. Louis (30th). By the numbers, we are a Growing Rat City, as we moved up seven rat positions.

Rats. (You could see that rejoinder coming.)

My own views on rats are clear, and I have been (rat)her consistent on this point: I am anti-rat, and I vote.

My own experience with rats has been taking my kids to “Ratatoullie” and occasionally seeing real live rats chugging along my back fence, three or four at a time, like a rat commuter train.

Oh, and they ruined a lounge chair and golf cart in my yard. These possessions have elastic cords, which apparently is some sort of rat charcuterie.

Fortunately, I have been spared some of the nastier elements of cohabitation with rats. Friends report they have spent thousands of dollars eliminating these little darlings from their attics.

My late father was something of a rat sharpshooter. His boyhood avocation was going to the Marquette, Mich., dump with a flashlight taped to a .22 rifle looking for these vermin. This is yet another sporting passion I didn’t share with my father.

I did see a rat in my garage in Sacramento once, and it was so large that I initially thought it was a cat. Sadly, the two cats I currently employ for personal rat protection were too busy chasing hair bands, invisible insects and each other.

They haven’t bagged a rat yet, but one of the cats is expert at loudly proclaiming that he has captured, yet again, a cat toy that in no way resembles a rat.

We are currently conducting a performance review.

Sacramento must also figure prominently in any national opossum poll, raccoon survey, or skunk count. Around February, any Sacramentan can tell you, the skunk odor is fairly pervasive.

I have seen opossums the size of rhinos in my yard, nosing around for whatever opossums nose around for. I’ve seen raccoons numbering in the Kennedy family range (ask not what your garbage can do for you) occasionally standing up at my back window, paws raised like a crosswalk guard.

Orkin, which (surprise) is making money on the deal, offered helpful Rat Mitigation Hints, which consisted of things like “keep food stored away” and “look for possible entry points.” Thank God they didn’t suggest getting a cat, or two, which in my previously noted experience has proven to be a complete waste of time.

As for entry points, the rats I see are so large that they could throw on an Orkin uniform and talk their way into the house.

As for food, I always store my food on the floor by my sofa. Rats are probably partial to Smartfood White Cheddar Popcorn, so I need to develop a Rat Action Plan, which I will share with you now.

1. Move to Tampa. They’re 50th.

2. Failing that drastic measure (it’s in Florida, for God’s sake), avoid Smartfood White Cheddar Popcorn storage mistakes.

3. When a furry guy with buck teeth shows up in an Orkin uniform offering a “free estimate,” ask for ID.