I've been off the past week, staying at home doing some projects while my sister and nephews visited. The boys attended Bradley's awesome World of Wonder program. Last night, a friend stopped over - she had not seen my sister in a long while. I walked into the kitchen to get more coffee and saw a peculiar mouse dead on the floor. Earlier I had noticed the cat quite interested in what was underneath the cook book shelf.
Readers of this blog know that I have a severe reaction to mice. I don't even like picking up dead ones. I tried to get the dogs to eat it, but they looked at me like I was crazy. They eat baby rabbits that the cats have killed, so why not a mouse?
I didn't want to cause a scene, so I decided, "I can do this." I found two paper plates and a bag and prepared to scoop it up. When I touched it, however, it moved. Walked a few inches and then sat back down. My sister heard the commotion and came to the kitchen. She has the same feelings toward rodents as I do. Warned that it was still breathing, she was prepared. She grabbed the plates and dropped it in the bag. About then, Riley began to protest that we were suffocating the helpless beast.
Later, my sister asked if I was sure it was a mouse. "It had a long, bare tail like a rat," she said.
"Please God no," I said. I ran to the computer and typed in "Field Mouse" which was what I thought the creature was. Thank all goodness. Field mice are related to Brer Rat, thus the long bare tale and pronounced metatarsals.
