Monday, January 9, 2012

Creepy Crawlies

I will write a full post about how good it feels to be back home in Puerto Rico, and try and explain my feelings on the plane and on the drive home.  But first…let me explain why my heart keeps pounding in my chest and I keep perching on the back of my kitchen chair like I’m afraid to touch the floor.

It’s as if the creatures of the world noticed our house was sad and lonely for a few weeks and decided to move in.  Or at least come and visit.

I came home last night to fresh termite trails in my bedroom, a dead roach in the bathroom, and of course the ever-present ants crawling over nearly every surface.  All these are routine, expected (well, not the roach…but at least it was dead).  Things I could handle and shrug off. 

But then when I was unpacking my clothes, I found tiny poo pellets on some of the shirts I had left here over break.  It (thankfully) appeared too small to be mouse poop.  Probably a little gecko.  At least that’s what I’m (still) telling myself.

Next I found more poop—more concentrated in the area—in our kitchen.  Cleaned that up with a paper towel.

And then I saw the mouse.  It ran out from the direction of the futon towards my chair in the dining room.  It looked well fed, for a mouse.  And I didn’t see where it went, because I was too busy screeching in surprise. 

Mice don’t really scare me.  They bother me, because they can get anywhere, leave poop anywhere, chew threw things and leave messy nests anywhere.  But they don’t scare me.  Except when they take me by surprise and I’m home alone.  I grabbed my keys and went to Kelsey’s, not even bothering to call ahead. 

Flash forward to this afternoon.  I was reclining on the loveseat when I saw a blur of brown cross the floor from my couch to the other couch.  At least it was under the other couch now. 

But then a few minutes later,  I clearly saw the mouse crawl up the side of the couch and go under the cushion.  Too much for me.  I was off the couch, sitting on the back of a kitchen chair with my feet on the seat.  (Home alone again). 

Perhaps an hour later (when I was sitting in the chair like a normal person again and much more collected), I heard a scurrying behind me.  I turned my head to see an iguana scurrying towards the back of the house. 

Not a baby iguana, either.  The green body was at least a foot long…the tail was probably closer to 2 feet long.  It was not the biggest iguana I have ever seen.  But it was not a baby. 

And a straight shot from the front door brings one directly into…my bedroom.  For some odd reason, my bedroom door happened to be open.

Iguana in my bedroom.

The menacing tail I could see from the hallway...

At this point, I grabbed my phone and ran out the front door, calling my friend Rachel in near hysterics.  She told me to shut the other doors in my house, get a broom, and shoo it out.  As calm as ever, of course. 

So I tried to do what she told me.  I stood on my bed with my broom, and shook it at the iguana, who was hiding next to the dresser.

The iguana ran under my bed.

Hopping all around on my bed did not make him run out.

Once again shaken, I left my room and waited for Jenni to get home.

When she did, she went into my room—full of bravery—and looked under the bed.  She saw no iguana.  She checked behind my dresser, and we looked in my closet.  We were about to give up (even though I knew he had to still be in the room somewhere), when I decided to just pull my bed away from the wall a little bit.

Cue a big green iguana scurrying past us both and towards the front of the house.  Jenni let out a satisfying scream and I did my “scared to touch the ground” dance.  The unfortunate part of this…we didn’t see the iguana go out the front door. 

We looked around the living room—the only place he could be, but we didn’t see him.  However, as Jenni said, “he proved he is a very effective hider!”  Still, we decided we could sleep easily that night. 

This morning I saw the iguana sitting on the wall behind our futon right by the front door.

Dang iguana.

Not a great picture...but since I was scared it would wake up and
run off again, this is what you get.

Thankfully, Kelsey was enthusiastic about helping to get the iguana out, and using a broom, a mop, some careful furniture placement, and good strategy, the two of us got the iguana out. 

Kelsey and our iguana-herding barricades.
(Strategy involved: close the door...shoo the iguana to the right. Open
the door...shoo the iguana out).  

The thing was much less scary in the daylight of the living room rather than the shadows of my bedroom. 

Hurray for Kelsey!! 

My house is now iguana-free.  And I set out traps for the mice.  So…hopefully it will soon be mouse-free too.

1 comment:

  1. Oh Sue... this is both hilarious and horrifying! What a story, glad you've managed to de-iguanify your house!