Let’s Rewire the Way We Think

Buckingham Palace had them, Elton John did too.

So, if both the palace and Elton’s palatial home could be penetrated by the sneaky rats, then why not my home?

Yes! I have a resident rat named Putin, as it’s as sneaky as the namesake it’s been baptised as.

You see, Putin has been declared, by my partner Morgan, as the cleanest and tidiest rat; in the way it doesn’t leave any evidence: poo pellets scattered everywhere it has been.

Very unlike the rats at Morgan’s property in Wombeyan Caves, where the vermin always leave plenty of evidence: atop the gas fridge, on the lids of his twin tub washing machine, atop 3 non-cooling fridges he uses as airtight (and rat-proof) storage, on the dining table, in fact on every surface seen in the Camp; an open plan type of camping site; sheltered by galvanised iron roof, flanked by 2 caravans on one side and 5 rain water drums on another and thus leaving the remaining 2 sides completely wide open to the elements.

Back to Putin: I know it’s there; inside my house. Proof of this is the empty box of chocolate left on my dining table once.

Yes! Only the outer shell of the box remains. All the contents are gone, leaving, generously, 2 wrappers nearby; empty of course!

Another time I thawed 4 individually wrapped frozen yellow tail fish on my low bench in the kitchen. That night, after I forgot to remove the fish and placed them somewhere higher, Putin helped himself to one!

Unsure if it was the case, I asked my guest who stayed with me for a few days, if it was 3 or 4 frozen fish were taken out of my freezer. “Four! I was counting them and wondering why since there’s only 3 of us eating!” came her answer. “Aha! Putin’s at it again!” I said but was lacking concrete evidence still. And then ……… Bang! I located the said frozen fish wrapper, right beneath my dining table in one cleaning session. Proudly ….. and triumphantly …. I announced my finding to both my guest and Morgan; who promptly promised to help me locate where the vermin, sorry, my pet rat Putin, comes and goes from and to.

This involves the installation of a movement sensitive camera, positioned in the dead centre between the dining room table and the kitchen entrance arch.

Sounds ideal, and terribly hi-tech, doesn’t it? But I could not see the point; I know Putin is present, when there’s plenty of food scraps in the kitchen; which is most of the time.

To be fair, Putin doesn’t always come to visit, by the way. On occasion it would just not be around as Putin usually leaves plenty of evidence; like an open waste paper basket being rolled to its side in the living room (it has been replaced with a foot pedal bin since) or a plastic bag torn open with its contents spilled all over the kitchen floor, etc.

It’s hilarious that somehow Putin eluded the camera. After Morgan viewed the footage, all he saw was partly clad images of myself in summer pyjamas, bare footed, walking back and forth from my bedroom to the kitchen for a drink and back to the direction of the bedroom again.

So far the score is: Putin: one and Morgan: zero!

Not content with that, Morgan then changed tactic: he set it up to cover possible alternative routes Putin might take; between the linen cupboard (where I theorised it’s Putin’s sleeping quarter or at least his nest) and the kitchen door.

That got me thinking: how long is the life span of a rat? As from memory, Putin has been living as my resident rat for as long as 4 years; from pre pandemic of COVID 19 to now, April 2024. All I know is Putin has outlived the pandemic with its subsequent lockdowns spanning almost 3 years! Go figure!

One day I was in my front garden and walking through the side of my house to reach the backyard, when I spotted Putin following not a few metres behind me. Seriously! He followed me like a puppy would! No fear, no apprehension. Which begged a question: what’s Putin thinking? That I was going to throw bacon bits to him like I do to Cheryl the Crow? (More on this later!)

The notion is plain ridiculous. But there you have it.

Nowadays I have accepted the fact that Putin is here to stay whether I like it or not. So, instead of being upset it might steal more food or damage my property, I just shrug my shoulders and say to myself: “My devout Buddhist mum used to tell me that every living creature is there for a reason. Imagine a world without vermin: the way we live in a throwaway society, we would simply be buried with our own trash! Slowly but surely! So my dear pet rat Putin, you can stay and recycle food scraps from my kitchen floor if you wish. Just please don’t run around on my polished floor board and keeping me, Morgan and our guests awake at night. Can you promise me that you’d be very quiet?

So, it’s settled then. Behave yourself Putin!