The Beasts Are Restive

Barnyard animals? Sheesh! Two days ago, the peaceful morning is shattered with Mum's shrieks. There is a squirrel rather than a rat in our rat trap and it is raising Cain. When I finally trickle down at about half past lunch (I make it a practise to sleep in rather while I'm here) the little animal has already injured its nose, hurling itself bodily at the mesh walls of the trap. Mum is too afraid to let it go: "What if it bites?" and I (never at my best when I've just woken up) can't figure out the mechanism. So she has to come show me what to do, while standing far away enough not to be attacked, and I get on with it.

When the trap is open the squirrel shoots out of it so quickly, all I see is a streak of brown fur as it scurries up a tree and out of sight. I smile in a self satisfied manner and tell Mum that is the last we will see of that bold piece. Several hours in the trap would have served as good a deterrent as any.

This particular squirrel made it a practise to sneak in the house and attack the bananas. We had been surprised by the neatly peeled skins on the floor. Since when had the rats taken to peeling bananas? And when we caught the squirrel and realised who the intruder actually was and it all made sense, I thought at least, that we had seen the back of that pest.

(I wonder if this is the same squirrel who pelted Julie with rambutan seeds one dark night after she had been watching some scary ghost documentary on the Discovery Channel?)

Stupid squirrel! It was back again today, upsetting bowls, and raising a ruckus in the kitchen.

Apparently it hasn't learned its lesson.

But we are not the only ones to be assailed by the various forms of wildlife in the area. Apparently, next door they are battling bats in the roof and bullfrogs in the hall. Also lizards but as geckos as such a fixture in nearly any Malaysian house (unless you do things like poison them) I think this should have hardly been worth mentioning.

It has been perilously near the second deluge today, as it rained and rained and then for some variety, rained some more. The naughty Maggotty boy has been sitting in the rain. When he gets wet enough he comes in to rub himself on Mum's car, or if I'm within rubbing distance, on me.

Elliot on the other hand has no desire to offer up his rump to further wetness. Even without that he's shivering. I just gave him their towel to curl up on.

It's a bleak, dark, dismal day (I keep telling Mum it's winter over here and she agrees) and right about now I could use a hot scotch and lemon. Or maybe a hot brandy.

Something vaguely festive and alcoholic.