Friday, November 23, 2012

'Twas the Night of Thanksgiving, Braveheart Style, With Mice

'Twas the night after Thanksgiving, when all through the house
all the creatures were stirring, trying to find that darn mouse.
The traps were set by the mouse-hole with care,
in the hopes that "Wee Dick" soon would be there.

The dogs should be nestled all snug in their beds,
with visions of chew toys dancing in their heads.
With me in my braids, and hubby in his cap,
With all that turkey, all we wanted was a nice, long nap.

When out in the foyer, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Out of the bedroom, I raced in a snap,
Tripping over shoes, clothes and misc. crap.

The nightlight on the flat of the newly painted wall,
gave the shadows of nighttime to everything and all,
when what to my barely open eyes should appear,
but a miniature horse with mouse rider, all very queer.

With the little mouse rider, so strange and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Wee Dick.
More rapid than bumblebees, his followers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

"Now Collin! Now Allister!
Now, Angus and Bonnie!
Oh, Kenna!  Oh, Gregor!
Oh, Donald! Oh, McCall!
To the top of the table!
To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!

As dog hair that before the old vacuum fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, they look to the sky,
so up to the table-top the mouse army flew,
with paw-fulls of weapons, and Wee Dick too.

And then in a twinkling, I heard a dog woof
and the army was suddenly gone in a poof.
As I put the dogs out and was turning around,
back to the table the mini-army did bound.

He was grey, all his fur, from his head to his feet
And his tiny, mouse clothes were all oddly, complete.
A bundle of arrows he had flung on his back,
He also carried a tiny ax to protect from attack.

His eyes--how they glowed!  His whiskers, so scary!
His cheeks were blue, his nose twitching with weary!
His gnarly, little mouth was drawn up in a sneer,
and the hair on his chin was crusted in mouse-beer.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his cheek,
and the stench of it encircled him like a wreath.
He had a pointed face and a little furry belly,
that moved oddly when he rode, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was grubby and plump, a gross, little mouse,
I screamed a bit when I saw him, in spite of myself.
With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had something to dread.

He spoke not but mouse words, and put his team straight to work.
he filled all his bags, then turned with a jerk.
Glaring at his army, there was no time to dwell
and giving them a nod, they began to fill their sacks as well.

He then sprang to his ride, to his army gave a big roar;
And away they ran, where there are crumbs, there are always more
And I heard him exclaim, as they rode back to their wall kingdom,

"They may take our lives, but they will never take our FREEDOMM!

Ducks, Animal Control & Suspicious Activity

Early this afternoon I forced myself to go out and run some errands.  Quickie bank run, post office, the normal shit that I put off.  

As I walked up to the ATM at the credit union I noticed something weird.  A small black duck, just minding its own business, but definitely should not have been there.  It didn't seem to mind the foot traffic in this strip mall, people walking into the bank and the Subway lunch-time traffic.  I walked by with Buttercup (who didn't even notice) and the duck didn't even look up from its snack of potato chips someone gave it.  

I cannot leave a domestic duck in a strip mall to fend for itself.  I asked the security dude what he knew.  It had been their since at least 6 am, when he arrived for work.  In my experience ducks don't just wander off to Subway, so I figured someone dumped it.  People are shitty.

So, I went home to get one my animal crates, put some straw in there and back to the strip mall I went.  It's one of those things that I do not have a second thought about.  

While I was there rounding up this duck, (took about 5 minutes), I thought it was interesting how many people stopped to watch but not one person asked how they could help.  Remember, this duck has been here for at least 6 hours. One woman came over to hold the crate open after I caught the duck since both my hands were full of bird.  Several people did choose to criticize my technique; telling me that I was stressing the bird. It's not like I was chasing it while wearing a hockey mask while waving a meat cleaver.  Or while wearing an Elmer Fudd mask ("Duck season. Rabbit season. Duck Season!) Seriously? I don't think 5 minutes of me debating on how to catch this fucker is going to scar this duck for life.  I did politely ask those people to shut the fuck up unless they were going to help.  They left.

Without a safe place for this duck to hang out I had no choice but to take it to the humane society.  I know that they keep a list of people willing to take funky animals that get turned in.  I used to volunteer there.

The one thing I can honestly bitch about this place is that they are highly suspicious of people turning in animals.  They question you on where you found it and all that.  The problem at this shelter is that if it is found outside city limits (totally lame) they wont take it.  And there is NO OTHER PLACE.  And no matter how truthful I am, I always feel like I'm lying or trying to convince them of my sincerity.  Irks me to no end.  The kennel peeps asked me three times where I found it, probably because when they ran my address, they saw that I live in "county".  It's funny how my house is "county" but my neighbors on either side are "city".  Makes shit like this a pain in the ass.  Makes it also hard for the po po to figure out who should come out if I need help.  City cops or County sheriff?  I'm pretty sure it would come down to rock, paper, scissors for them in the 911 dispatch room.   But I digress.

Anyhow, the duck is safe, I posted a note on Craigslist about it, so I'm pretty sure it will find a home.  

Welcome to my wild life.  I can't even go to the bank without stepping on a duck.