Mouse Logic

After a conversation I had with Mr. H a couple of days ago, it became clear very quickly that those little barn kittens needed to be here whether we want the extra burden or not. Besides, there is a huge cuteness factor going on with those little kitties right now. (Because Chihuahuas have this same cuteness factor in appearance, not acoustics, I want to reiterate: "cuteness factor" should not be a main reason in acquiring a pet! I have five "burdens of proof" if you need to witness that 3-D.)

One evening last week, Mr. H pulled into the garage with his pickup and I had been messing with something in a blue plastic kiddie pool in the garage. The pool, for some reason, was under a can containing fifty pounds of goat feed.

Me: "Mr. H, will you come and get this baby mouse out of here? He's stuck in the pool and can't climb out."

Mr. H: "Ok."

Me: "He can't seem to walk up the side of the pool. He can't figure it out."

Mr. H: "Ok."

I go about my chores for the better part of an hour and come back...

Me: "Well? Did you bash his head in?"

Mr. H: "No."

Me: "Did you give him a Viking funeral?"

(You'll recall from previous posts-largely due to Gunnar- that a Viking Funeral on our farm means the dearly departed gets thrown into the wood burner. Similar to a true Viking funeral-that I've seen in the movies-in which the deceased Viking is sent out to sea in his ship and then someone shoots a flaming arrow at him and lights him and his ship on fire.) Is that oversharing?

Mr. H: "No, but I gave him a very stern talking to and told the little mouse to just wait until the kittens grow up!"

Really? And he used to be big and tough in the Marine Corps? Did I completely ruin this man somehow? I might need to consult Cosmo....