I’ve been trying to catch a mouse in my kitchen for some time. Every now and then, I had vague suspicions that the mouse had a very large appetite (and correspondingly large droppings), but it wasn’t until I got up one morning to discover one of the pomegranates I’d left on the bench in a zillion pieces scattered across my kitchen floor, and a trail leading to a secret stash under the couch that I realised I was dealing with a rat.
Two days later, I thought I’d removed all edible food from the kitchen surfaces. At about 5.30am there was a funny sound coming from the kitchen…much like a plastic cup being slid along a bench, followed by a crash as said cup hit the floor.
Who would have thought leftover flour and vinegar chutney thickener would be considered an essential food group by a rat? 
Minutes later I came nose to nose with the culprit, which is why I can now say with some authority and no hysterics whatsoever, that my kitchen raider is definitely a rat.
We were nose to nose because I was peering under a trolley table where he’d gone to ground, before I chased him behind the couch with a broom, where I thought I had him corralled with some strategically placed cardboard while I went to fetch the dogs. Unfortunately, he disappeared. The dogs, while all too keen to chase rats across my flowerbed, did the canine equivalent of sticking their fingers in their ears and chanting, “lalala can’t hear you,” when I pointedly suggested they find the rat in their house. 
Apparently, German shepherds don’t like to admit they’ve failed to defend something, so they just pretend it never happened. At the risk of appearing to anthropomorphise my dogs, that seems a very human behaviour.


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