I admit to some laisse faire thinking about the mice who have taken up residence in our mud room. I acknowledge that I would prefer that they not be there, but not enough to do much about it. They are pests, but they make themselves scarse. I haven't seen or heard much from them. But now I feel a little differently. I was setting up tables for an upcoming dinner at my house, rushing to and fro, quickly assembling what I needed and barking out orders to my compliant children. When I suddenly stopped short before getting to the mud room door.
"Do we have a red, white, and black rubber snake?" I yelled hopefully. I have four boys, and while to the best of my recollection, our rubber snake is black, I thought it wasn't too long a shot to think we might have a second one.
"What?" was the puzzled reply from my son.
"Well, if not, I think we ought to get a bucket and corral this guy" I replied.
My son thought he might have inadvertantly squished the snake in the door on his last trip through. he had a mixture of unease that he hadn't seen the snake and concenr that we might have to extricate and perhaps resuscitate him. Oh dear.
We got a bucket and returned to the snake. Who had movied substantially away from the door. Resuscitation would not be necessary. That is a plus. We coaxed the snake into the bucket, Abe with his stick and I with my bucket.
It was easy for all but the snake, who was petrified, coiling up and shaking his tail and trying his best to look fierce. We merely held him at arms length and tried not to upset him further. I also admitted to him that I was not entirely happy to see him either. He was not a welcome guest.
Abe took our Western Fox snake visitor far from the house, but to a forest hopefully teeming with prey for him to set up his new home, raise a family, and live in the great outdoors.
Next step will be mice traps in the mud room.
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