How Not to Meet Your Neighbour

We have a new neighbour. She has a huge deck, which overlooks our house, and two dogs complete the package. One is large and deep of woof, the other is smaller than our cat. I know this for a fact, as we emerged from our house last week on Saturday to find said cat arching his back in readiness for dog shredding, nose to nose with small dog, who obviously doesn't understand the Cat for I-will-floss-my-teeth-with-your-innards. I dived on the cat, Daughter dived on the dog, who beat it back whence he came - which, as it turns out, is through an extremely small hole in the fence behind the garage. The owner-lady emerged and we agreed we would put Something over the hole - she already has the gates blocked so that the dog can't get out, since he also doesn't understand the Car for You-Are-Roadkill.
We nailed netting over the gap, and she subsequently wandered up with a large plank which we used to reinforce the barrier; Small Dog has not returned, so I assume he is Minding The Gap.
He has developed an annoying yapping habit, which she is slowly bringing under control.
Last Friday, a friend, Martin, popped by with his drill, to help Son and me get a biltong box constructed. We worked on our deck, to the drill-WOOF-drill-WOOF symphony. Engaged in explaining to Martin exactly how the box needs to be ventilated, when the neighbour hushed the dog and called out something to me, I gaily called back, "Yes, but don't worry, the barking doesn't bother us that much!" Sons' open-mouthed expression alerted me to the fact that something was Not Quite Right about that statement, so I looked back at her to see her staring at me with a backing-off-now look on her face.
Apparently what she had shouted was "I have a huge rat in the kitchen - do you have problems with rats over there?"