@panzade,
I think you could make a song about that, not kidding.
When we - friend I'd met but didn't know well, when I signed up for a small, I do mean small, studio in the St. Charles Hotel - went looking for her to get a new studio, the place she wanted me to see was an old Eagles Lodge. I wasn't interested in moving, just had had my cousin's husband build me a small loft (this was waay before I knew how to do that), a big gift.
How could I resist, 3400 sq. feet, brick walls, seven window in the front, a kitchen, two bathrooms (mens, womens), and two office rooms, $500/mo. Together we could do it. I was the full time employed person, she part time but had the stronger personality which was helpful with the landlord and his consort. My cousin's husband was grumpy but moved the loft.
The first night we slept there was in January, no heat, seven large broken windows. Not like Canada but ugh. This was not your better neighborhood.*
So, I relate, but I never have dealt with rats like you must have (except in the lab).
Yet.
*now about-priceless real estate