In April, I wrote about a creature in our house. It's now creatures, plural — creatures so fast that I have been unable to identify them. There have been many guesses as to what they are — mice, moles, voles, alien life-forms, a wolf spider carrying her babies on her back. Look that last one up if you are looking for something to haunt your dreams. On second thought, don't. They live in my walls, in my vents, in my cupboards. They are only ever seen as a flash out of the corner of my eye. Half the time, I can't be sure I have not just seen a shadow in the night — a shadow that, if indeed an alien life-form, sucks out the memories from my brain when I sleep.

I tried to be kumbaya about the creatures. This was their house first, I tell myself. This is their wild, and we are trespassers in it. And isn't this why we moved into the wild — for the nature, even if it's nondescript vermin-infested nature? And with a house so shoddily made, the only way to plug all the holes would be to knock it to the ground and start fresh. So I tried to embrace the creatures.

But rather than appreciate my hospitality, they invited their cousin and in-laws to move in. We went from one quirky friend to a carnival of creature chaos practically overnight. Trying to embrace my inner tree-hugger, I reached out to the local quinoa-eating, chia seed-drinking, yoga-loving community and asked whether anyone knew of a local pied piper — someone who could rock sweet lullabies on a recorder and seduce the aliens, monsters, mice and spiders alike out of my home and back into the woods. The nature-loving community laughed and told me to get Terminix. Or a cat. One person even has a cat named Psycho Killer — actual name — and offered to let me borrow it for the weekend. I resisted — mostly because I'm more terrified a cat named Psycho Killer would take me out in the middle of the night just as eagerly as it would a vole.

So once again, I tried to make peace with the creatures in my home. They weren't really hurting anyone. Maybe they were actually part of a secret alliance, defending the home against evil spirits and robbers who are afraid of mice — you know, such as burglarizing elephants. It could happen. But you'll never see rogue pachyderms at my home, because we have creatures.

But then, the creatures crossed a line. In efforts to obtain a cereal bar, they ate through my backpack. There is no greater crime. Some folks love shoes, some cars, some Pokemon cards, some pineapples with googly eyes dressed up as dolls. Hey, I don't judge. I love backpacks. I've spent many a day sitting on the floor of a camping store, running my fingers down their zippers, opening every pocket. Is there a greater rush than purchasing a new backpack? And now these creatures had taken this joy from me! Nice time was over.

I set up traps around the home, including one under the coffee table in the living room, where I had often seen the creatures hide. On the first night with the traps, I watched a creature scurry under the coffee table and thought, "Aha! Now I caught you! Now I'll know what you are!" A little brown mouse poked its head out from under the table, walked out into the middle of the rug and glared at me as if to say, "Et tu, Brute?" It then scurried back under the coffee table, and once again I thought, "I've got you now!" But then the mouse scooted out from under the coffee table, tail first, pulling with it the trap. It left the trap out in the open, stared at me again and ran off.

A number of years ago, my dad was battling squirrels that kept eating his corn crop. He eventually put a chicken-wire fence around the corn. The next morning, my dad found five corn cobs, the corn completely gnawed off the cob, stacked outside the sliding glass door leading out to the second-story deck. A squirrel watched, perched on the deck railing, as my dad discovered the present it had left for him.

I think I'm going to lose this battle.

Katiedid Langrock is author of the book "Stop Farting in the Pyramids," available at http://www.creators.com/books/stop-farting-in-the-pyramids. Like Katiedid Langrock on Facebook, at http://www.facebook.com/katiedidhumor. To find out more about her and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate webpage at www.creators.com.