A Rodent's Reaction to Espresso

In an effort to record those “stories we didn’t tell in church”, I am trying to give a weekly recap of memorable moments that never made the prayer letter. 

In 1990, Neil and I returned to our home in Dusin. We opened the door and were horrified to see more rat droppings than I have ever seen at any time in my life.  We’ve seen a lot of rats. We dispatched a lot of rats to the place that rats go when they are dispatched.  We just never quite saw the distribution of rat droppings that littered our house.  The Dusin house was entirely bamboo and had but one closed cupboard.  Our pots and pans were covered.  The bookshelves were littered.  As we made our way into the house, stepping gingerly, we had no choice but to put the boxes of supplies down on top of the mess.  Then we began to notice other things besides the droppings.  We had a really nice short wave radio on which we got all our outside news.  The antenna had been gnawed through.  The curtain cord was in shreds. Books were gnawed and toilet paper…a rather precious commodity, was no longer useable. (I am now a self-confessed "tp hoarder".)

I peeked into our extremely small bathroom and the plastic medications had holes in them.  The tips of everything from antibiotic ointment, to other medical tubes were totally gone and had to be tossed out.  We couldn’t figure out the cause for the devastation but began to clean, wash and boil.  (The Dusin house had only cold water so we had to heat the water if we wanted to shower or do dishes).

The loft was almost as bad as the downstairs, but we were grateful, after shaking off the droppings from our bed, that the Codan radio with which we communicated with the outside world was graciously untouched but for droppings on top of it. That could all be swept up.

I heard Neil call me and went to see what he’d found.  We’d been cleaning before we unpacked so things would be sanitary enough for the next several months.  The last place we looked was in the place where we stored our food because, well, there was never a lot of food left.  Neil dangle before me a desecrated bag of espresso coffee.  Suddenly the lights went on in our minds.  Yes,  “il ratto” had gotten into the espresso and “ZINGO” that had lit up its little body and thus began the carnage. We were looking at a rodent's reaction to espresso.

We cleaned that area really well too, though it was not nearly as bad as the rest of the place. I guess he started there, got his high and move on to more chewable things.  I had been counting on that coffee to get me through the next few months and was annoyed, albeit also amused, that the rat had taken as much as he had.  I actually debated throwing all the coffee out since I didn’t want the rat to win but I think I came up with what looked like a healthy compromise. We’re both still here, so as the saying goes, “If it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger”. I don’t know if that is true about most things, but it can be said about the remaining espresso.

If you are looking for a moral to the story here it is: keep your coffee in a metal can.