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Brothers: 1 Year, 11 Months |
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Atlhough the boys spend more time apart these days, they still snuggle. Seems I'm always saying that, aren't I? But it's true, and we have the cute pictures to prove it! We'll say "ah, the boys are being cute". You've got to remember I spent sixteen years with two cats that barely tolerated each other. I have a very cute story to relate this month! I went out one morning to run some errands. When I returned, around mid-day, I heard the cat door open as I was putting away groceries in the kitchen. How nice, I thought, Giz is coming to say hi. But no one showed up. I went to investigate, and I found Gizmo intent on the space between the treadmill and the wall. We have a carpet remnant covering the treadmill base, and soon he was pushing his way through it where it wraps around. Next thing I knew, Simba came in and he was just as intent, at the same area. Something's up. I continued to watch them, trying to figure out what they were so intent about. Finally, I saw a small fur ball. I buy them fur balls as toys sometimes, but as I stared at this — it moved! I could swear neither one of them touched it. 
I must have jumped a mile. Way to big to be a mouse. But soon afterwards they lost interest, and Gizmo flopped down. I began to doubt myself. Maybe it was just one of their fur balls after all, and I just didn't see them bat it. I called my husband, and informed him we might have a large rat loose in the house, but as the afternoon wore on uneventfully, I forgot all about it. 
Fast forward to 7 pm. As I'm in the kitchen cleaning up, the boys are back at the treadmill (it's now 6 hours after the first incident!). Then suddenly I hear high pitched squeaking, and I know none of their toys makes a sound like that. It's alive! I go over to the treadmill, but I can't see anything. I grab a flashlight, and finally I see some fur wedged into the space between the treadmill base and the motor. What to do? What is it? Is it a rat? A vole (my guess)? A hedgehog (Daddy's guess)? We put the boys into the bedroom, because trying to trap anything with them on the loose is a exercise in futility. We close all the other doors, so it can't get into another area of the house. Unfortunately, we have a very open house plan. We get a box, and some gloves for each of us. I raise the treadmill base, and Daddy pokes at whatever-it-is with a yardstick. It comes out . . . it's a baby bunny! Funny how it goes from "Eeew, we have a rat!" to "Aaaw, it's a baby bunny". We manage to get it into the box after several botched attempts. Then I'm unsure what to do. It's awfully small. It's dark out there. Can it find its momma? Will a predator (other than the boys) get it? In the end, we decide to let it out into my garden. At least it can eat something in there! In the morning it's gone, so we hope it found it's family. Now, how did a baby bunny get into our house? Well, we'll never know, but I'll bet you dollars to donuts it wandered too near the kennel and Gizmo snatched it and brought it in. After all, he's our mighty hunter. There's no way that bunny could have gotten in here through the cat door on it's own. The only way into the cat door is through the kennel — plus it's about a six inch hop up to the door, and then it would have to push through the door. So we've had a very small bird and now a baby bunny. I draw the line at fawns . . . |
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