It has been a while since I wrote about the rat in my kitchen . . . so I figured I would give you the latest. If you have already looked at my Facebook pictures, you will know how it ends.
(The rodent will only be referred to as “rat” . . . he deserved no personalization!)
Since I first discovered the rat, he only got more and more annoying. My Dad sent me this device; I believe it is called . . . The Pestinator 2000! Sounds like it should do the job. The magnetic wave it sends out is supposed to discourage the rodents from coming around. Peruvian rats are obviously not discouraged very easily. He began making more and more noise. I would wake up in the morning to stuff all over my kitchen. Despite all the noise, I was beginning to deal with it. My food was now safe in a drawer.
One night things took an ugly turn. It was the night of July 2nd and I had returned home to see my loaf of bread half-eaten, sitting on my bed. What did that mean? The rat had made it into my bedroom. Not good. He can mess in the kitchen, because I don’t live in the kitchen. Now he was in my territory . . . on my turf!! He was causing quite a ruckus that night and I had about had it. However, I was able to fall asleep around 11:30 pm. At 2:00 AM, I awoke to the subconscious act of flinging something off the top of my sheets. Yes, it was the rat. Slightly disgusted, I grabbed my machete and went looking for the creature, only to see it crawl through an opening in the corner of my ceiling. There was no going back to sleep. I read from 2:00-4:00 AM. I drifted off to sleep and at 4:30 AM, I awoke to the feeling of a critter under my sheets, at my feet. Needless to say, I flew out of bed, instantaneously had my machete in hand, and turned on the lights. Now, if my roommate had woken up, the sight of me wielding a machete at 4:30 in the morning could very well have given her a heart attack . . . luckily, she remained asleep through the whole fiasco. The rat got away and succeeded in pushing me closer to culture shock.
Morning of July 4th. Again I was woken up early . . . but this time to the scream of my roommate, Maria. I crawled out of bed and lazily walked to the kitchen to see what the fuss was. At the entrance to the kitchen was none other than the rat. He had breathed his last. My face lit up. I ran and grabbed my camera (this was most definitely getting captured on film!). It was going to be a good day.
The death of the rat did not occur at the end of my machete. Did the Pestinator 2000 work and fry his brains? I do not know. Or did the sight of me, in the wee hours of the morning holding a machete, send him to an early grave? I have no clue. Nevertheless, his time on earth was done. A prayer was answered. And on the day that we celebrate the independence of our country, God smiled on me.
My Dad said I need a shirt that says, “God Loves Me . . . Rats Fear Me!”
pictures:
http://uta.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2053671&l=5240d&id=25300658