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

I've spent my career debugging systems that serve billions of users. I've optimized algorithms, scaled infrastructure, and solved problems that would make most engineers lose sleep. But nothing—absolutely nothing—prepared me for debugging my own house.

This is the story of how I applied everything I learned building AI at scale to win a war against nature's smallest but most persistent adversaries. Spoiler: The methodologies that work for distributed systems also work for distributed pests.

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. If you've ever shipped a quick patch to production without fixing the root cause, you know where this is going. Also spoiler: Ants would soon become the least of my problems, like optimizing a function that's only called once while your database 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:

The Ant Trifecta That Actually Works:

Alpine WSG (indoor): Mix 20g per gallon, spray baseboards and entry points. Unlike Terro, which kills workers too quickly, Alpine is a slow-acting bait that actually makes it back to the colony. Reapply every few months.
Termidor SC or Taurus SC (outdoor perimeter): 1oz per gallon, spray a 3ft band on walls and 3ft on ground touching the house. Another slow-acting colony killer. Reapply quarterly.
Advion Ant Gel (as-needed): Like Terro, but milder—gives ants time to feed the entire colony before dying.

I got all three from diypestwarehouse.com for less than what I'd spent on Terro over the years. Problem solved permanently.

The Lesson: Like choosing the right tools for your tech stack, using professional-grade solutions from the start saves time and money. Consumer products are the equivalent of trying to scale production infrastructure with development tools.

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)

I tested these "solutions" like I was running A/B tests—methodically, with clear success criteria. The data was unequivocal: repellents don't work. They're the equivalent of hoping users will stop doing something because you put up a warning message. Users (and squirrels) don't read warnings.

What worked: ¼" galvanized hardware cloth buried along fence lines and over problem areas. Squirrels can't chew through steel. Yet.

This is what engineers call a "hard constraint." Not a suggestion, not a deterrent—an actual physical barrier. When you need to prevent unauthorized access, you don't ask nicely. You enforce it at the infrastructure level.

Here's the gear:

The Golden Rule

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

You know how sometimes your monitoring dashboards show weird anomalies, but they're not urgent-urgent, so you tell yourself you'll investigate later? Yeah. That's what I did. Except with rats.

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. Alert acknowledged. Incident closed. No action taken.
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. Second alert. Still no investigation.
Week 5: Wife saw a mouse run into our fireplace. "That seems unlikely," I said, now approaching Olympic-level denial. Third alert. Pattern ignored.
Week 7: Our kitchen trash can looked like a confetti factory. Paper shredded everywhere. Droppings. Evidence of indoor habitation. Production incident. Severity: Critical.

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

Act III: The War (and What Actually Worked)

Time to treat this like a production outage. Step one: Stop guessing. Start measuring.

Step 1: Identification (Know Your Enemy)

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.

Pro tip: If you live in Contra Costa County, they offer free site visits with detailed recommendations. I learned this after solving my problem, but you can be smarter than me. Check with your local county vector control office to see if they offer such services.

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

The pre-bait trick: Leave traps unset for 2-3 nights so rodents build trust. Then engage the trap on night 3.

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.)

Video evidence of the garage rat

Step 3: Find the Entry Points (Root Cause Analysis)

This is where most people fail. Killing the current resident is pointless if you leave the door open for the next one.

This is the difference between fixing a bug and fixing the system that allowed the bug to exist. You need both.

My vulnerabilities:

Garage door weatherstripping: Huge gaps. Had it professionally replaced, then added this sealing strip for an airtight seal.
Bottom corners of garage door jambs: Gaps large enough for entry. Filled with copper mesh (rodents can't chew through copper) then sealed with mortar.
Water heater pipe openings: Sealed with silicone caulk using a caulking gun and GE silicone sealant.
Cabinet gaps: Copper mesh + caulking.
Fireplace: Professional cleaning and back-sealing.
Perimeter and attic: Hired a rodent-proofing company to seal all exterior holes and jam steel wool under stucco gaps.

Critical cabinet insight: If you're installing garage storage, never get sliding doors. Hinged doors seal tight. Sliding doors leave gaps that are rodent welcome mats.

The Systems Thinking Lesson: This is defense in depth—the same principle we use for security architecture. Multiple layers of protection. If one fails, you have backups. Traps handle active threats. Sealing prevents future intrusions. Maintenance catches regressions.

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 Parallel: Just like technical debt in code. Every shortcut you don't clean up is a place for bugs to hide. Every deprecated dependency is a potential security vulnerability. Every "we'll fix it later" is a future incident waiting to happen. Sometimes you need a forcing function to do the cleanup you've been avoiding.

The best time to refactor was when you first noticed the problem. The second-best time is now.

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)

Materials List

Hand pump sprayer (for when you want to feel like a professional)
¼" galvanized hardware cloth
Galvanized staples
Copper mesh (rats hate it, and it's weirdly satisfying to stuff into holes)
Silicone caulk + caulking gun (you'll use way more than you think)
Snap traps (mouse and/or rat size, depending on your level of denial)
Peanut butter
Sealed storage bins
Your dignity (you'll lose it temporarily but regain it later, maybe)

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.

What Building AI Taught Me About Pest Control (and Vice Versa)

Turns out, the principles that help you scale systems to billions of users work surprisingly well against creatures with brains the size of a walnut:

Treat symptoms ≠ Fix root causes. Killing visible ants is like restarting a crashed service. It'll help temporarily, but if you don't fix why they crashed (or entered), you're on an endless treadmill.
Measure, don't guess. Identify your exact problem before throwing solutions at it. Is it roof rats or Norway rats? Wrong bait and traps won't work. Is it a memory leak or a logic bug? Wrong fix wastes time.
Prevention > Detection > Response. The best incident is the one that never happens. Seal your house. Validate your inputs. Build guardrails. Then add monitoring. Then have a response plan.
Multiple layers of defense. Just like you don't rely on a single firewall or a single test suite, don't rely on a single line of defense against pests. Exclusion + traps + monitoring + maintenance.
Ignore alerts at your own peril. Whether it's your wife saying "I saw a rat" or your monitoring system saying "disk space at 85%"—investigate early. Denial is not a strategy. It's expensive.
Technical debt compounds. That gap in your weatherstripping you've been meaning to fix? That code smell you've been meaning to refactor? Both get worse with time. Both eventually bite you.
The right tools matter. Consumer-grade vs professional-grade isn't just marketing. Using Terro for a serious ant problem is like using print debugging for a distributed systems issue. Technically possible, but why suffer?
Document your learnings. This post exists because someone else will face the same problem. Post-mortems aren't just for outages—they're for life.

References & Sources

BASF Corporation. "Alpine WSG and Termidor SC Product Information." BASF Pest Control Products
Professional User Reviews. "Alpine WSG Insecticide Reviews." DoMyOwn Pest Control, April 2017.
University of Nebraska-Lincoln Extension. "Rodent-Proof Construction — Structural." NebGuide G1530
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. "Trap Up to Remove Rodents." CDC Healthy Pets, Healthy People, April 2024.
National Park Service. "Rodent Exclusion Manual: Mechanical Rodent Proofing Techniques." NPS Public Health Program, 2019
Wildlife Damage Management. "Rodent Exclusion Methods." Extension Wildlife Damage Management

Have questions or your own war stories? Feel free to leave a comment below. 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). And yes, the irony of someone who literally debugs systems for a living initially ignoring obvious bugs in his own home is not lost on me.