A new neighbour

Why (I don't hear you utter) are you wide awake at 04.27 in the morning?

My wakefulness (for the past three hours) is courtesy of the chap upstairs from me. A small chap, I imagine, in a coat of fur and nose of whiskers who scrabbles and scratches about above my ceiling.

Once aware of the new lodger, I began to light incense whenever and wherever I heard him, with the notion that the scent might prove distasteful to him. I use the male gender specific pronoun as I don't believe that a lady would be disturbing me at such an inopportune time. We (that is the Royal 'we') have moved on from joss fragrances to smacking the ceiling with a pillow. That seems to have worked, at least for the moment.

In this building, there lives a 'roofer' who doubles as a purveyor of cannabinoids, a gentleman who died and came back to life and another who could supply me with spare parts for my car. If I had a car, which I don't. Two rooms are now empty. One simply deserted, the other vacant after a mighty police raid from gentlemen (and one lady) from the local constabulary. Now, there is also what I might imagine to be a rattus norvegicus, or common brown rat. I use the term 'common' here in a descriptive rather than derogatory sense, meaning no insult to my obviously squatting neighbour.

My problem is being a light sleeper. I rouse quickly at the slightest sound, hence my current alertness. 

The clawing sound is back. My new neighbour is becoming oblivious to my ceiling pounding. I shall, no doubt, have to report this squatter to the landlady. I have resisted doing so, in the spirit of fair play and,"we're all in this together", for I have no doubt that my reporting will eventually result in sending this little soul back into the Cosmos, which is against the Buddhist principle of 'Ahimsa' or non-violence. But there are limits and (like E. C. Segar's Popeye) I am rapidly getting to the point where ,"that's all I can stands, I can stands no more."