Currently I smell something like “Buca Di Beppo” coming to my nose. Not from my kitchen! I wish! But it reminds me of a story from a few days ago that I have been wanting to tell you. An “only in India” story.
Ever since we got home from our month-long stint in the US, I have been noticing we took in a uninvited resident. A mouse? Kinda looked like it from the poop in my pantry. Then, I saw it. Well half of it. A rat? “Josiah you gotta do something!”, other than me taking everything that can be chewed through out of the pantry. THEN, I went to get in the pantry the other night and I heard little squeaks. Baby squeaks, I rustled some chewed up napkins they had taken out of the trash, and it rustled back and squeaked at me. AHHHH!
Clearly my husband was too chicken to fix the problem, in fact now that I think of it he hadn’t looked at the problem let alone investigated it, except once and to no avail. So who protects me now? I will tell you. My maid. My 16-year-old maid.
The next day I showed her the new droppings and as best I could I told her my new discoveries, my hunch of babies camping out under the drawers. She started to clean out the mess and came and told me that it wasn’t a rat. It was a weasel! While she was cleaning, it ran right passed her. How did I know the word for weasel, to understand her? I didn’t. She acted out snake and then this creature eating the snake. And I figured out, in India that is what eats snakes. Well a mongoose. Very dangerous. I went and dug up a picture and showed her and she said yes. So something in the weasel/mongoose family is having babies in my kitchen!
I went and made a long “hook” out of Josiah’s bent hanger’s. Not for roasting marshmallow’s this time. I showed her how to fish babies out from under the crack and then I crawled up on the counter, from sheer cowardice and watched while she scooped out 3 babies… no 5… oh! 3 more…1 more! 9 babies out from under my drawers. The drawers that hold my cherished hot coco and cider mix for next winter. The drawers that have my sour candies brought all the way from LA Wal-Mart. Anyways… they were MAYBE 2 days old, still had clear skin and so sleepy they weren’t even disturbed by our digging them out. YUK! One stretched its legs out and rolled over. We carefully got them into a plastic takeout container and I took them out to be thrown over the balcony into the nearby trash field. But the wind was so strong that day I knew that If I threw it, it would come back up right at me. Probably dismantled and making me scream.
So I just put the containers in bags outside our front door til J came home and I could show him. Then I went to show him the crime scene and another baby was out, 10 babies! The mom either pulled it out to help us finish the task, or more likely we scared her in act of trying to rescue the last. Then as J took care of the last baby I had him take a picture. SO GROSS! Retelling him our adventure actually moved him to action, and he put poison down the drain.