Now, on to the not so delightful part of Hawaii. The RATS! We have heard tell of the rats, even seen a few eating oranges out of our tree. We set traps on the fence and haven't had problems since, until last night. I have no pictures of the following scene, so you will have to picture it in your mind.
We were just about to go to bed. I went into the kitchen for one last thing. I hear a scurry on the other side of the bar. I think, I thought I just saw Jake in the bedroom and that doesn't really sound like Jake anyway. Then I see it, a big fat RAT. It runs under the counter and slips in behind the stove. I scream for Rusty. He comes running. I tell him what happened. He goes outside and gets one of the rat traps from the fence. I stand guard with the broom so it can't get out of the kitchen. Jake helps me. Then he is trying to decide where the rat would go. We can't leave the rat trap in front of the stove. There is a remote chance the one of the girls would set it off, and those things are huge. He pulls the stove away from the wall and doesn't see a rat. He asks, are you sure you saw a rat. I have no doubts. A 14 inch rat (from head to tail) is not my imagination. He opens the drawer underneath the stove (which thankfully has nothing in it) and stares into the eyes of the RAT. We deliberate on the situation for awhile. I call Holly, who greatly appreciates the vision, as she just saw a rat in her house for the first time this week also. O.k., it's getting intense. We get a golf club. Rusty's plan is to poke the rat up against the wall, then kill it by smashing it with a golf club. Jake and I stand guard in case the rat makes a break for it. Our job is to keep it in the kitchen, and if it gets out, run after it to see where it goes. The rat will not stay against the wall. He almost jumps onto the counter. Then he makes a break for it. I start screaming. I swat it into the kitchen once. He scurries. Rusty is batting at him with the golf club. Jake is running around trying to eat him. I am still screaming. I hit him again with the broom, and again. Still screaming. Still batting. Still running around trying to eat him. He dodges to the left and runs into the play area. He is holed up behind a bean bag chair. Or so we think. Jake and I stand guard while Rusty yanks up the bean bags. He was nowhere. Our best guess is that he escaped through a cracked screen behind the bean bags.
Maybe if he is still in the house the geckos will eat him.
