About a week or so ago, I flew into a panic because a pigeon fluttered into the kitchen. I squawked, it flew out only to reappear moments later and then exit again while my back was turned. Then whilst I was cooking dinner later that night, the daft thing double-backed, swooped down and landed on the fan hanging from our terrace ceiling. And laid an egg! SPLAT! Pigeon egg spattered over the floor directly in front of the door. YS and I went to investigate and clean it up a bit later, but it had all gone; only a trace of yolk remained, stuck to the tiles.
The following day, an iguana decided to venture into the house for a nose about; possibly the pigeon-egg eater returning to the scene of the crime and searching for more fallen fragments of food. Unlike many of my Facebook friends who commented on my 'status', that day, I didn't whack the creature with a shoe and make " Lizzzzzzzarrrd piiizzzzaaaa" or even turn my hand at BBQing it. Instead I let the little fellow leave of his own accord in his own good time.
Since we have been in CR, I have squashed a scorpion or two, ran a mile when the large grasshoppers have been flying around and thankfully only seen a snake and a tarantula that were already dead. But as we know all good things come in threes, so I was on tender-hooks waiting for the next creature to hazard a trip into the house.
Well, it didn't take long. On his way to bed a few nights after the pigeon and iguana incidents, YS came running outside saying that he saw a skunk in his bedroom!
Yes, a skunk!
I know kids often use diverse tactics in order to delay going to bed, but a skunk sighting was a new one to us. However, YS insisted that he had seen one, under his bed of all places. So armed with the swimming pool net (!) and a torch, DH followed his orders and went in search of the mammal. Nowhere to be seen. Not in YS bedroom, not in ES room and not in ours. If indeed there had been a skunk in the house, where the hell had it gone?
We searched everywhere, high and low. The damn 'zorro' (as it is known locally) had vanished. Assured that it wasn't lurking behind his curtains, in his wardrobe or even under his pillows, YS finally went to bed; ES once again became surgically attached to Twitter and DH and I settled down to watch TV or whatever.
It wasn't until a few hours later that I heard a scratching noise, very quiet, but a scratching noise nonetheless. This time I was brave and casually had a look around the house but could find nothing and guessed it must have been something on the TV. Yet when I sat back down, I could still hear the scraping sound. So armed only with the torch this time, DH was roped into investigating further. In reality he didn't really have very far to look as the bedroom doors were all closed and the kitchen and lounge are all open plan. But there, in the corner of the living space, among some boxes (yes, I know, I still have some unpacked boxes, but in my defense they are Christmas decorations that have yet to find a home) was a baby skunk, all curled up and sleepy, looking remarkably cute and cuddly. Well he looked cute and cuddly from afar, as I at this point was sitting on the kitchen table, feet tucked safely under my bottom, just in case!
Anyway, a gentle poke of one of the crates and the little thing woke up and scurried off, out of the back door into the garden. Bless.
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| The Kitchen Iguana's Older and bigger Brother! |
Since we have been in CR, I have squashed a scorpion or two, ran a mile when the large grasshoppers have been flying around and thankfully only seen a snake and a tarantula that were already dead. But as we know all good things come in threes, so I was on tender-hooks waiting for the next creature to hazard a trip into the house.
Well, it didn't take long. On his way to bed a few nights after the pigeon and iguana incidents, YS came running outside saying that he saw a skunk in his bedroom!
Yes, a skunk!
Noun. A cat-sized American mammal of the weasel family, with distinctive black-and-white striped fur. When threatened it squirts a fine spray of foul-smelling irritant liquid from its anal glands towards its attacker.
I know kids often use diverse tactics in order to delay going to bed, but a skunk sighting was a new one to us. However, YS insisted that he had seen one, under his bed of all places. So armed with the swimming pool net (!) and a torch, DH followed his orders and went in search of the mammal. Nowhere to be seen. Not in YS bedroom, not in ES room and not in ours. If indeed there had been a skunk in the house, where the hell had it gone? We searched everywhere, high and low. The damn 'zorro' (as it is known locally) had vanished. Assured that it wasn't lurking behind his curtains, in his wardrobe or even under his pillows, YS finally went to bed; ES once again became surgically attached to Twitter and DH and I settled down to watch TV or whatever.
It wasn't until a few hours later that I heard a scratching noise, very quiet, but a scratching noise nonetheless. This time I was brave and casually had a look around the house but could find nothing and guessed it must have been something on the TV. Yet when I sat back down, I could still hear the scraping sound. So armed only with the torch this time, DH was roped into investigating further. In reality he didn't really have very far to look as the bedroom doors were all closed and the kitchen and lounge are all open plan. But there, in the corner of the living space, among some boxes (yes, I know, I still have some unpacked boxes, but in my defense they are Christmas decorations that have yet to find a home) was a baby skunk, all curled up and sleepy, looking remarkably cute and cuddly. Well he looked cute and cuddly from afar, as I at this point was sitting on the kitchen table, feet tucked safely under my bottom, just in case!
Anyway, a gentle poke of one of the crates and the little thing woke up and scurried off, out of the back door into the garden. Bless.
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