Mice and big, hairy babies

I don't know what it is, but it seems that a theme of hairy animals has come into my life the past few days.

It all started with a crunching-type sound up in our attic, above our bedroom. (Why do these things always happen right after you to bed?)

I nudge my hubby. "Do you hear that?" I whisper.

To which he replies sleepily, "Nooo..."

"I do," I say. "It's a mouse. We have a mouse in the attic."

No response, just the sound of restful breathing.

"Honey!" I whisper louder. "How can you sleep at a time like this???"

*SNORT!* SNORE!* "...huh?..."

"Mice! They're up there chewing our things, having wild mousey sex and having lots of babies!"

More snorting, more snoring, then...only snoring.

I give up, knowing that he has to wake up at 5:00 AM to get to work on time. But, I am wide-eyed the rest of the night, with visions of mice chewing through the ceiling and dropping down onto our bed - on my side, of course. (I later google mouse habits and discover that "one happy mouse couple" can give birth to 100 offspring in a one year period.)

He calls me the next day from work. "...and we need mouse traps," I remind him. "Lots of them. For every room, just in case. At least five for each room, including the attic and basement." (I later find out he hangs up the phone and informs his coworkers that his wife is demanding over $80 worth of traps for one mouse.)

Fast forward to yesterday. I am on my way home and spot a beautiful fawn looking frightened and alone in a meadow. There is no doe in sight. Knowing that it would only run if I approached it (besides, what would I do with a fawn? Load it in my van?), I did the only thing I knew to do. Turn around and take pictures.

I continue on my way home, trying not to worry about this baby deer, trying not to worry about it running out in front of a vehicle, trying not to worry about it starving to death without its mother, when Hubby calls.

"I found a hamster," he says. "Either a hamster or gerbil, I don't know the difference."

Remembering that we trapped no mice in our attic but one mole in our basement (a mole?? in a finished basement???) I ask, "Where?" I am, for one fleeting moment, wondering how in the world a stray hamster would enter our house.

"On the side of the road. In a pink cage."

Sure enough, I get home and there in a pink cage, is a very fat sleeping hamster. Hubby explains that someone had set it at the side of the road, under a tree and he describes an area to me that I know has no nearby houses. Clearly, it was abandoned. The cage had been freshly cleaned with food and fresh water provided.

The hamster moves about clumsily, eats little or nothing and is really, really pudgy. He talks about taking it to an acquaintance who has several kids. I suggest we wait a few days to make sure it's not sick or pregnant. I would hate to give it to children who would get attached to it, only to have it die within a few hours and would also hate to have their parents hate us for giving us not one, but potentially seven or eight hamsters. (If you have any knowledge of pregnant or sick hamster behavior, I would certainly appreciate your advice. Like, how can you tell whether one is pregnant or sick?)

By the way, let me also suggest here that you not try to understand how the thought of a mouse in our home totally scares and disgusts me while my heart goes out to a similar rodent. I, myself, don't understand.

So...the hamster remains snuggled up in its corner, sleeping away, as I type this.

And, as I am typing this, I am interrupted by the sound of a barking dog outside and realize it is our mutt, Frankie. Looking outside, I see two cows in our back yard.

Calves, actually. What is this, with all these hairy creatures coming around me all of a sudden?

Realizing they are surely from the herd that lives next door, I look for Hubby, who instructs me to stand guard while he looks for the owner. Have you ever tried to guard a cow? How about two of them? (I should probably add here that, while I am "guarding" these calves, our cockatoo is inside yelling, "PAPA!!!")

Again, the only thing I knew to do was grab my camera. I really have to blog this, I am thinking.

Now, as the owners have responded to our phone call and are trying to find the calves' escape route, I wonder what type of animal to prepare for next.