We just had quite a rain here in Clinton. It not only rained cats and dogs (I swear for a while it was even leopards & Great Danes) but we actually had a brief shower of guinea pigs.
You had to feel sorry for the poor drenched rodents. The bewildered little fellers wandered around in a daze asking each other No pienso que esta es Lima. Donde estamos? [I do not think this is Lima. Where are we?]
I was very worried that the guinea pigs would build a den under my house. With my insomia I don't need to be kept up by them loudly playing all night their Charangos (a Peruvian lute made from the shell of the back of an armadillo).
So I stuck my head out of my back door and shouted as loud as I could Funcione con lejos rapidamente a mis amigos! La policia de la inmigracion esta aqui! [Run away as fast as you can my friends! The immigration police are here!]
Worked like a charm. The last I saw of those guinea pigs they were all heading out of town as fast as their little legs could carry them. I always knew my High School Spanish would come in handy some day.
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