Uh, RODENTS!
In the midst of yesterday, the Friday stuff of getting ready to go to work. Plus get to Farmers and Artisans for some chickens to roast this weekend. Plus planning to cook for us today (when Em's boyfriend would probably be over). On top of sewing Em's dress.
Our neighbor Betty stopped me as I headed out to my truck. Asked me to come look at a critter she'd trapped. She'd thought she had a rat raiding her garden. Set out the Hav-A-Hart trap. Which bagged a woodchuck. Except that she wasn't sure what it was. I confirmed the species, and she and I discussed what to do with it. The town now does absolutely nothing, since there really are very few places inside our borders where a wild animal can be dumped. I said I'd do something about it after I got home from work that night. Called Ray during the day to consult with him. Our idea was to find some place fairly local, but take the poor guy there late in the day when there would be few human witnesses to uh, rat on us. The thought occurred to me, why is this my problem? Still expected to go through with it, though.
An hour or so after I got home, Betty called to say she'd taken Mr. Woody out to some property she inherited from her father, ten miles away from where we live. He/she should be happy. Nomming on some grass as I write this, no doubt.
G'night, guys.
Our neighbor Betty stopped me as I headed out to my truck. Asked me to come look at a critter she'd trapped. She'd thought she had a rat raiding her garden. Set out the Hav-A-Hart trap. Which bagged a woodchuck. Except that she wasn't sure what it was. I confirmed the species, and she and I discussed what to do with it. The town now does absolutely nothing, since there really are very few places inside our borders where a wild animal can be dumped. I said I'd do something about it after I got home from work that night. Called Ray during the day to consult with him. Our idea was to find some place fairly local, but take the poor guy there late in the day when there would be few human witnesses to uh, rat on us. The thought occurred to me, why is this my problem? Still expected to go through with it, though.
An hour or so after I got home, Betty called to say she'd taken Mr. Woody out to some property she inherited from her father, ten miles away from where we live. He/she should be happy. Nomming on some grass as I write this, no doubt.
G'night, guys.