Tuesday, November 29, 2011


I hate vermin. We once had a rat living in our garage. It ate my car. Twice. Our dog, Frank, was pretty sick at the time so he had a live and let live relationship with the rat. Once I found its nest and disposed of the babies, it went away. Oh, life on the farm. It's so glamorous.

I think that is the one and only time I've been grateful for our detached garage.

Last week my husband left me a message at work. Pete (our current dog) got a rat. He brought it up to the house. It was half grown. It was dead. Thank goodness. I hope Pete got his brothers and sisters, too.

I love having a dog that goes after critters. My kids get pretty mad at him for chasing and being rough with cats. Not me. His job is to get critters. All critters. If he starts letting the cats by, what's next?

I love it so much, I think I may let him in the house to track down the mice that ruined my evening. I know, I live in the country on a farm. Mice come with the territory. But they're really gross.

Tonight as I flew in the house before flying back out to run my son to basketball practice I went to the pantry for a quick snack. I saw that I had caught a furry critter in one of my sticky traps. I cleaned it up then went back for my snack.

Did you know mice can climb? I certainly didn't. They had been on the shelves in my pantry. How they got up there, I do not know. But boy did they make a mess. One that I spent my evening cleaning up.

I think it's time to let Pete in the house.

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