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Sunday, March 2, 2008

MATERNAL Instinct vs. Germ-A-PHOBE

So, yesterday I'm doing my usual (going nutty from half-ill small children) and I hear some squeaking. I walk slowly, following the sound to find the culprit [probably caught] and rid it from my home.

This was a "BIG" squeak! So, I am expecting to find either a really big mouse or possibly, even a RAT [yuck!]. I checked the glue boards and found nothing -- yet, the sqeaking continued. I followed it's shrill sound and this is what I found:

No, your eyes do not fail you -- I do have a MOUSE in the palm of my hand.

When I finally found him he was lost, cold and abandoned. Well, actually, I realized that I had caught his Mama yesterday while she was out and about in my house on a food excursion. Feeling God's eyes on me I caught this little guy and released him in a patch of grass with a few cracker crumbs to get him by.

So, last night we are all sitting on the porch eating our sausage we'd cooked on the pit. I return inside and my daughter follows shortly with the complaint "Don't leave me out there...the mice will get me!?" I try to comfort her with the knowledge that it's only the crickets.

We return outside and then I hear it. This little guy had only gotten about two feet from where I'd left him hours ago. Now the sun had set and he was cold and hungry. He's still blind.

[siiiigggghhhhh] I walk over and rescue him. The kids are all anxiously excited. We discuss not telling Daddy because Daddy will "kill" it. I know the little guy will eventually be a rodent I'll have to capture and expel from my home -- but, at the moment my Maternal Insticts kick in.

We return inside the house to find DH looking at us. We must have all looked guilty or mischevious because we were greeted with "WHAT's going ON?" "Nothing Honey..." [then the little one pipes in] "We found a MOUSE...he's a BABY...don't kill him Daddy."

DH replies, "If you have a mouse in your hand I'm DAMN SURE gonna' kill it!" I open my hand and show him this tiny, little cotton ball of fur. I see my DH's eyes soften a bit. Kinda' melted him too. Must be Paternal Instinct.

Later, DH ask's me, "What are you going to do with that thing?" I sigh...."I don't know. I'll try to release him again tomorrow when the sun comes out. Maybe he'll have half a chance."

So after feeding him some coffee creamer and a tiny bit of left over refried beans I placed him in my daughter's sock and then in my son's bug trap and there he slept with a cracker and a few drops of water to get him by through the night. You might think I'm going soft. But, this little guy hasn't been around long enough to have collected the "nasties."

Trust me. If you found him? You'd remember all the "Tom & Jerry" cartoons you grew up with and you'd try to save him too.

If You Give a Mouse a Cheez-It


Dianne said...

Oh Man, my heart's turning to mush reading this and the photos are so sweet.

I've done the same thing.

And I've lost count of the number of spiders I've rescued and re-located, webs and all. I keep huge pieces of cardboard on hand, excellent spider web moving vans.

You're a good person and as my Nana used to say ...

"There are good germs and there are bad germs."

She also said - "there's clean dirt and there's dirty dirt" - that was saved for when we dropped food and picked it up and ate it.

I'm lovin' your maternal instincts

Tink said...

I had pet mice growing up, and then I rescued a feeder mouse from my roommates savannah monitor with a ladle one time. So you don't have to explain it to me. I think you should keep it as a pet and name it "Lucky". :)

R.E.H. said...

Hey! I was right! You did save a mouse!

Seriously - that this is so cute, you should buy him a little cage and keep him as a pet. I'm sure the kids would love to care for the little thing, and he could easily be tamed. Out in the wild, without his momma mouse and daddy mouse, I don't think he stands much of a chance at all.

You could name him "Jerry" ;)