Rats

We’ve had several encounters with rats but the battle today was the best one yet.

I was cleaning the kitchen last night and could hear strange noises. I wasn’t exactly sure where they were coming from but was sure it was somewhere by the refrigerator. It was late and I really didn’t want to investigate too closely, so I just left the noises.  

This morning, I went to make my coffee and discovered poop on my counter tops. This was not the little kernels of gecko poop that we find stuck to the walls. Yes indeed, we have a rat. I’m not sure where the little bugger is but I’m hoping at this point that the rat is a he and not a she with a family (that was our last rat incident). I also found poop inside my oven. Now, I’m getting a little concerned. There was rat poop on my new frying pan!

Ross says that we need to set traps and who am I to argue. I have some tasty morsels of chicken to load the traps with. I cleaned my counter tops with bleach and I am scrubbing everything like a crazy woman on a mission. While I am not scared of rats, I don’t like the possibility of them spreading diseases to the humans and dogs in our home. We set a trap behind the microwave and one behind the oven, leaving the oven about a foot from the wall.

I decided to bake a carrot cake to serve to friends that are coming over for coffee tomorrow. I gather all the ingredients that I need and start to mix. It is time to light the oven. I can imagine you can see where this is going. Oven starts to heat. Suddenly, I hear a loud thump and I now know exactly where the rat is.

I peek behind the oven and sure enough, there is one large, grey rat. He’s a little stunned at this point as I would imagine a 350 F oven is not a fun place to hang out. He’s having a sauna. Except this rat does not have his towel and slippers. He’s looking a little stressed out.

Ross, being the mighty hunter that he is, grabs a golf club. Meanwhile, I’m taking a picture of the rat which unfortunately did not turn out. Seven dogs are locked in the TV room as I don’t need one of them getting hit with a golf club.

I slowly slide the oven forward and the damn rat goes running across the kitchen and is now behind the fridge. Ok, enough. Time to get the ratter dogs out. Shelby is a good ratter. I also bring out my other big gun, Xena who is a Dominican Cocomutt which are also excellent ratters. Now, both dogs know that there is a rat behind the fridge. I slowly start to slide the fridge forward, Ross is wielding the golf club and the dogs are ready. We are going to get that rat!

I get the fridge far enough forward, Ross taps the back of the fridge with the golf club (there is a good reach with a golf club so you don't have to get too close) and now the rat is on the move. The rat heads straight into Shelby’s kennel. Score! Shelby heads into the kennel and grabs the rat. The rat is having none of being in a dog’s mouth so he breaks free, runs through the house into the room that Ebony, Gaby and Titch are in. This rat is not going to see the light of day. Surely the three big dogs are going to get the rat and kill it.

The rat is now behind the entertainment centre. The five dogs are going crazy trying to get at the rat.  Ross is still hanging onto his golf club. This rat is going down one way or another. Finally, the golf club comes in handy. Ross slides the golf club under the entertainment centre, gives the rat a gentle nudge and once again the rat is on the move. The rat manages to make it past all five dogs, bolt out the back patio doors and down the steps into the back yard.

The rat is gone.

I have five loser dogs that couldn’t catch one rat and a husband that packs a golf club who is taking credit for getting rid of the rat.

I am shaking my head, laughing and grateful that the rat is gone. He’s probably moved into the pool room now.

Driving in the Dominican Republic

Blog day!

Today I was asked to pick up a friend from his mechanics. Of course I said yes. I’m just a helpful kind of gal. I was asked to meet my friend at the Playero at 10:30. While I have lived in the DR for a while now, I’m still on Canadian time which means on time, not Dominican time which can be any time.

I arrive at 10:20. Great! I have a couple minutes to run inside and grab a few bits (things for anyone not British). Park the car, put the car in park and turn the car off. Not going into get my bits cause the damn key won’t come out of the ignition. Now what.........ok, re-start car and turn it of. Nothing. Damn. Ross is not going to be happy. Start car and drive to where my friend is parked. So, my car is running and I say, alright, let’s toodle. I follow my friend to the mechanics shop (more about the Russian compound later). I turn the car off. No, the damn key will still not come out. Now’s the time I start to sweat. I silently utter several curse words. OK, who am I kidding, the words spewed out of my mouth like a drunken expat.

Now, let’s discuss the Russian mechanic’s compound. Tall, slim, shifty looking guy. Cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Not sure if he was packing but I wasn’t about to find out. There is something entertaining about a Russian that speaks Spanish. Strangest accent ever. My friend honks his horn when he pulls up to the 10 foot iron gate set it a 12 cinder block wall that surrounds the compound. The gate opens and my friend drives through. I’m wondering if I’ll see him again or I’ll be paying his wife a visit with bad news. Finally, my friend’s business is conducted and the gate slides open. The Russian dude takes one look at my chariot and his mouth drops open. Ok, my car is not in the best of shape but the look on his face was not necessary. Further, he began to laugh....so does my friend. Seriously guys? I’m more worried about the damn key stuck in the ignition then the fact that the paint is a little rough.

Well, the trip from the mechanics did not get any better. Driving down the road, I notice the fuel light is on. Damn. So, now I need to stop at the Texaco for 500 rd of gas – at 214 rd per US gallon so I got 2.34 US gallons or 8.85 litres. Today 500 rd is 13.19 Cdn. So my gas was $1.49 Cdn per litre. Don’t you just love this side story? Ok, time to get back to the real story.

We are driving down the narrow road to get to the gas station. Cars parked on both sides. Off in the distance I see a small white car coming towards me. I have more than enough time to make it through the cars so I proceed and if I don't, the car will stop and let me go through. Ok, stupid little white car suddenly accelerates and meets me head on about half way. I now have four cars behind me so I am not going anywhere. Stupid Russian woman climbs out of her car and begins to yell at me to back up (in Spanish but my friend speaks Spanish so it’s all good.) I just would have told her to take a flying leap. She is adamant that I am in the wrong and I should back up. What? Over four cars? Stupid Russian woman tells me I am in the wrong again...what the hell?? How is it even possible? So, I put my car in park and tell her I’m not going anywhere once she magically changes to fluent English. Then she asks me if I am stupid. Hey, I’m not the one creating a traffic jam. She finally gets in her car and backs up. I drive by and give her a Trudeau salute. My friend called her a really nasty name which I won’t repeat here. Can you say road war? Oh, and where I come from, the biggest tires always win, so I won!

Still need gas. Gas light has been on all this time. I still can’t get the damn key out of the ignition at the gas station. My friend asks me what I’m going to do about this problem with the key and my response is that I’ll let Ross deal with it. He just laughs and laughs.

Driving today in Sosua was like driving in a video game (arcade game for you old-timers). I needed to get from the Texaco turning left back onto the main road. Traffic was seriously backed up. I wasn’t the only one needing to turn left. A van with a local driving pulls up on my left. SCORE! He pulls into traffic blocking it. I slide up beside him and YAY! I also cut off traffic but I’m outta the damn gas station. Rules of the road you ask? Well, yes there are but most take them as suggestions unless there are legal implications such as a traffic accident. Then the rules of the road are most important.

Oh, and the damn key came out of the ignition when I got home. Ross put the car all the way into park, looked at me and rolled his eyes.

Laundry Day at the King Casa

Xena puked on Hailey’s zebra print blanket about a week ago. Today she decided that the blanket better be washed so it wouldn’t be stained – dog grass green puke and all. I should also point out that this blanket has been tucked away and not being used (out of sight, out of mind.)

Now, being that today was an extremely busy day, this was perfect timing to wash the blanket. Except the blanket didn’t fit in my washing machine. So, bless our neighbour, she has an extra large twin tub. This twin tub is large enough to bath a six year old child!

We got the blanket (probably weighs 20 lbs dry) into the tub, filled it with soap and water and the green, grass, dog puke stained blanket. It’s on its way to being fresh and clean.

This is while the bread is rising and I am gardening because it’s not raining.

Ok, I’ve mentioned that the dry blanket weighs about 20 lbs....add 30 gallons of water to that. Add to that the fact the blanket does not fit into the spinner.

Two women must now man-handle the soaking wet blanket and try to get as much water out as possible.

But, wait, it still needs to be rinsed.

Repeat above but add this mental picture:

Hailey grabs one end of the 50 lb blanket. I grab the other end of the blanket. She says, “run so we get outside before it drips all over the floor”. Ok, I’m in flip flops, wet floor and am having flashbacks to my broken leg in August. But, in keeping Thing 3 happy, I run.

We make it from the neighbour’s yard to our car port. We are both soaking wet. We are hanging on for dear life to a 50 lb wet blanket because Hailey tells me, “don’t you dare let my blanket touch the ground”. Gotta keep Thing 3 happy.

Now, we are trying to twist this 50 lb blanket to get as much water out as possible. I can hardly hang onto this blanket. Hailey has one end, I’m twisting the other. Hailey has a moment of brilliance. She straddles the blanket while hanging onto one end and I hang on to the other. With her thighs of steel, she begins to squeeze the water out of the blanket. There was a bit of jump and squeeze – it seemed to be some sort of yoga/gym type exercise. I can’t be sure but she did have to go put on dry clothes.

She also wanted to have us squeeze the blanket out by pushing our butts together with the blanket between but that just seemed wrong on so many levels.

This is a picture of Hailey's wet, hairy pants after the thighs of steel workout.

I think I peed myself because I was watching this from behind. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time and it is a true blessing that no one witnessed this event to make a video recording. So to all my special readers (the two or three of you), you will have to use your imaginations.

The blanket is clean...will probably take a week to dry but it is clean.