The Rat is back

Celine and I started work again on Saturday after our Tet holiday. On Sunday morning, my biggest teaching day, I came downstairs to prepare breakfast to find my recently purchased baguette gnawed to bits. Shit, was my first reaction - the Rat is back. We have had some rat problems over the past few months but they all seemed to fix themselves without any drastic measures required. With only two weeks to go in the country we all had hoped that the rat situation was over. Apparently not.

The rat somehow climbed the chair and got onto the table where it proceeded to devour our morning baguette. I must admit I am damn impressed by how it managed to get up on the table in the first place. It was clear we were dealing with a professional.

Later that day, sitting on the sofa, I heard a rustling noise near the TV. The rat was in an empty paper bag I had planned to use for rubbish. I grabbed a nearby broom and planned my attack. The two logical options were to close off the exit to the bag and kill it or quickly pick up the bag and run it outside. I opted for a pathetic, at best, poke at the bag which had no benefit at all. The rat ran out and I jumped back like a little pansy. Man, I hate rats. He (I have decided the rat is a guy) ran behind the big cupboard under the TV probably thinking how stupid humans are. I decided to leave it there.

I told Ben and Lanette, my roommates, about our recent rat situation night. We are all about as useful as each other when it comes to rat disposal so our strategy was to wish it away. That didn't work.

Celine and I were upstairs watching Scrubs when she asked me; "but what if it comes up the stairs?" I replied something along the lines "Hun, I swear there is no chance at all that the rat can or would want to come up the stairs. There is no food up here". Within a minute of my words of wisdom we heard Lanette scream. The rat had in fact come up the stairs and had also decided to poop in Lanette's bathroom; at least it is toilet trained. The monster confronted Lanette as she came out of her room. The scream caused the rat, or more appropriately small dog, to run into our spare bedroom. This was one hell of a rat and was obviously not afraid of anyone.

Ben, Lanette, Celine and I talked strategy outside the spare room; each peering in as if a family of cobras lived inside. It was the room with all our things for France and Thailand; piled up on the floor. I did not like the idea of leaving our stuff to the mercy of the beast but it became clear that we were probably not the best people for the job. We decided to close the door and sort it out in the morning.

This morning I woke up and went to find my neighbour Hai. After explaining my situation he said he would help. We loaded up on weaponry and went into the room. Once in the room he told me to close the door. Since Hai was helping me, and I didn't want to look like a complete wuss, I did as I was asked. I must be honest though, the heart rate increased a few beats. I know it is not very manly but there is something about rats I just can't stand. There was a mass of hiding places in a small room where the only exit was now closed. The rat on steroids was somewhere and I was a little on edge.

I won't go into details but Hai is a legend and the problem is now solved. Thank you Hai. I owe you a few beers.