When my uncle Randy came out a year ago and helped me build a roof over my back porch (and yes, the language grossly overstates my role), I saved a section of the old rain gutters with high hopes of saving money and reinstalling it later. Predictably, it's still right where I left it, up against the back fence.
Our dog Maggie is a self-entertainer, which is kind of fun. She loves life, frequently takes naps flat on her back, legs in the air, and finds toys everywhere. Well, tonight she found a mouse in the rain gutter and when I called her to come inside, she obediently collected her new toy and brought it inside with her.
Now, when I say, "mouse," I probably need to clarify a bit.
This was not a cute little small field mouse. This thing was large. Like "Secret of Nimh" large, complete with the whole long stringy tail and big toes.
So - like I said: Maggie (with muddy feet, no less) happily brought her toy in the back door. Kristin (with Allison on her lap) jumped up and screamed. Allison wasn't sure what all the excitement was about, but she wasn't a big fan of all this stress and communicated this in no uncertain terms. Maggie - curious as to the cause of all this sudden excitement and concerned there was fun to be had elsewhere - perked her ears up and spit the rat out on the floor. I was torn between getting Maggie and her muddy feet off my carpet and also making sure the giant soggy rat didn't decide to move in or gnaw one of my bare feet off.
We pulled it together. Kristin ran Allison to her crib and grabbed a broom (this wasn't a spider, after all!). I cornered the thing behind the couch and when Kristin - armed with the broom - was in position on one end, I opened the door, lifted the other and the soggy rat bolted for the door.
Just another boring night at our place.
1 comment:
That's very funny! You just needed Steve Foreman.
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