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Winters around here always include a number of rodents trying to take advantage of the shit-tons of money I spend to keep this house warm. No surprise there.
In December, we had some mice in the kitchen, so we set traps. In a 24-hour period, we snapped 7 mice in our dish-towel drawer - a record around here. Then for weeks everything has been quiet.
However, in the past week, an unidentified rodent has attracted the attention of Rhonda, our guard-Beagle. For hours on end, she would stare at the gap between our dishwasher and the adjacent cabinet. Once in a while, she would lunge at the gap, snarling and scratching. But no luck. Robin and I just chuckled. We set a few traps, but whatever was vexing the dog seemed uninterested in the peanut-butter and nuts bait painted on the trap triggers.
The critter has been sneaking into the dog's food bowl and stealing kibble, bite by bite. But nobody's caught him in the act.
Last night was a bit of a coming-out party for our resident rodent. Turns out it's a tiny mole, about half the size of a golf ball. I'll call it a "he" because of the balls on this thing... he ran out from under the cabinets and shot across the kitchen right in front of Rhonda, me and Robin!
He made a wrong turn and got trapped between the dog's crate and the base cabinets... I pulled the crate out and let slip the dog of war! Sic him, Rhonda! The dog squinted at the mole, turning her head as if she were on an RCA Victor record label, and sat her butt down. The mole charged, and the dog backed up. What a killer. The mole hung a right and went back under the dishwasher.
No doubt, our little critter chilled and steeled himself for another run at it... Two minutes later, he shot out into the open, right at me and Robin and our chicken-hearted Beagle. Of course, we were all surprised...
Our rodent made another wrong turn and found himself trapped by our front door. The dog looked on in puzzlement - too confused to snatch the little critter. So big Jim, badass owner of the house, leaned down to pick up the mole and toss him out. The little shit didn't run - he squared off on me and ran up my arm! Jumped off my shoulder, and away he went to the other end of the house!
We all followed, once again cornering the little critter in the furnace room. And once again, he ran up my arm and over my shoulder, blasting his way back into the kitchen and under the dishwasher. We haven't seen him for 24 hours now. Don't know if he left the house or is just hunkering down until the dust settles. Robin suggested getting a butterfly net, but I'm gonna wait...
I mentioned this to a friend of mine when I was shopping today, and he gave me the bad news: "Jim, you don't have a pest, you have a new pet. Name the little shit and make sure he has some kibble and water..."
I suppose that'll work... welcome to our home, Speedy...
