Mice.
They’re clever little suckers.
Those small beady eyes, noses that scrunch and furry little bodies of cuteness.
They are adorable…. I admit it.
But behind that adorable façade is one tricky, evil, cunning little creature.
A creature that is no give, all take. And this month, in the middle of Kampot, Cambodia, I learned the types of things these creatures want….and all that they are capable of.
We’ll start with stealth. They are masters of stealth. Slipping in and out of our room from God knows where. Our windows are shut. The door stays closed. All it takes is one open slit, one little hole, and they’ve got us right where they want us. In and out, of their own accord, sniffing around for the snacks and treats we have hidden and hanging from the top bunks of our beds.
We always hear them, but we never see them.
They’re like little Houdinis, balls of illusion and mystery. They slip in, we hear the crunching and the gnawing, and then they’re gone.
We wake up to find our crackers and cookies half eaten, small holes in the packaging, but no holes in the bags that hold them. I don’t know how they get in and out, but they do it quickly and they do it well. The only proof of their whereabouts left behind in trails of little brown poops along the edges of our top bunks, in our bags and on our hanging clothes, leaving little brown stains wherever they land.
I can’t say it wasn’t a little frustrating; to wake up each morning to another ruined snack, another shirt or skirt that needed re-washing. But it became routine, and it was okay.
It wasn’t until my second laundry day that I found out of what this mouse was truly capable. There I was crouched down next to our laundry basin, scrubbing my clothes, when I came to a pair of underwear. I noticed a huge hole right in the center.
“That’s odd,” I thought. As I emptied my laundry bag, a couple small brown presents fell out of the bottom. “Nooo way,” I said out loud as I grabbed another pair of underwear, realizing what had happened. With each pair of underwear I washed, I noticed a troubling pattern. Every single one of my cotton pairs of underwear had miraculously turned crotch-less over night, each one sporting a large, jagged, chewed-up, nightmarish-looking hole of nothingness.
That dang mouse ATE my UNDERWEAR! He crawled through the dime size opening at the top of my laundry bag, which was hanging from my top bunk, crawled all the way to the bottom, had a happy little mouse feast, left a few surprises for good measure, and crawled his little butt back out.
Since WHEN do mice eat UNDERWEAR?! I sat there next to my ruined undergarments and couldn’t stop laughing. ‘Well, this is a first,’ I thought.
Okay, so he chewed holes through my granola box and crackers, he pooped on and stained my brand new white t-shirt (ok, so that was bound to happen, but I thought I’d get it to last at least 1 month before I ruined it), he dropped a couple bombs in my backpack and my purse….but eating my underwear, a very rare and precious thing on the WR, was just too far. I was determined to put an end to this war.
And then, Praise The Lord, the little sucker got too comfortable. Mid-day, we saw him crawl down the electric cord from a slit in the ceiling, and proceeded to take his sweet little time ambling about Jess’ top bunk.
After many screams and shouts, I proclaimed, “It’s time! Get the dogs!”
The girls ran outside and grabbed the ministry dogs, Foxy and Blacky Chan, and brought them into our room. As soon as the dogs laid eyes on him it was over. Within a couple minutes the mouse was in Foxy’s mouth and out the door.
I can’t lie and say I wasn’t a little sad. He was a cute little fella, and he only wanted to eat.
But he had gone just a little too far.
And now I know. When there are mice around, food isn’t the only thing we should be hiding.
