So, I’m talking to some friends on my patio. Minding my own business. Not expecting a crazy, unusual thing to happen. Not at all. Merely passing the last days of summer with good times, good people, and good gawd there’s a mouse!
Minutes before, I had looked over to see my docile pup scrounging about in the overgrown bushes.
He’s after a toad. I said to my friends with the false confidence any new parent or new dog owner should avoid using, especially around any seasoned parents or experienced dog owners.
Because right when you think you have their habits and quirks down cold- they scare a flipping mouse up a bush.
Yup, my dorky dog treed a mouse.
Mid-conversation, I glance over and two feet from my startled eyes is a trembling mouse. It’s directly at my eye level. It’s clinging to the very tippy top of the weigela bush, swaying in the breeze like some kind of poorly made rodent flag.
Of course, I immediately drew everyone’s attention to this little critter who had braved heights to avoid becoming kibble. I have never seen a mouse so still, so close, and so awkwardly stuck up a creek with no paddle. I got close enough to see this was a personable little fella. His wide eyes were fathomless and his small body indicated that he was clearly more of an intellect than a handy type. As evidence, consider his big head with those tensely alert ears and his velvety smooth coat of fur- obviously well preened and not accustomed to mousual labor.
Okay, I fell hard for the little bugger.
Unfortch, I had seven children and three adults witness to my predicament.
They encouraged me to trap it and set it free miles from here. But that involves me going near it and putting it in my car!
First, I picked up my dog so he could see his prize swinging in the breeze. Then, I crated the daring doggy. Next time, pup, next time.
Next, under the pretense of finding gloves, bucket and a poking tool, I grabbed my camera.
I took this very picture:
During his sprint, chaos bloomed in the form of ten helpful humans. A child picked up a croquet mallet and began putt putting for that rascally rabbit. I threw the camera and dove for a storage bin and a shovel fondly dubbed the poop shovel due to its primary purpose in my yard. My friend panicked about the wide open door and saved my family from mouse invasion by throwing herself backwards through the door and then slamming it shut. Whew.
There was screaming. There was freaking out as each of us thought the mouse was scaling our bodies at different moments. A shoe was thrown. A butt was sprained by an anonymous woman tripping on her thrown camera.
Another day in the life, ya’ll.
And people ask how I think of things to blog about.
For gregorific, it’s more a question of how to pick from the mass of topics knocking down my door and scampering up my bushes.
~Happy summer’s end, people.