The Ninth Strange Day

The Ninth: Animal Whisperer

August 20, 2007

Every day on the way to work I like to look for deer and woodchucks. Sometimes I see rabbits, but the deer and the ‘chucks are more familiar with the train and will just freeze and watch it go past and the most I see of the rabbits is a rustle as they disappear. I saw a fox once, and I’ve seen turkey vultures hanging around, and today I saw seven Canadian geese sitting at the Southbound light rail stop. Hope they have transit passes.

I saw a fox on the way home. A City Fox. I’ve seen it before. It lives near the North Avenue stop.

One time one of my coworkers found a baby bunny in the parking lot. It was TINY. About the size of a baseball, and he looked really angry. Probably because everyone was oohing and fussing over him. Me being the fearless one, I picked him up and gave him a little cuddle.

Another time at work we had a bat trapped in the conference room. A wee brown bat who was utterly freaked out and miserably unhappy. He was finally caught and I was the one who ended up taking him outside to let him go.

When I was much younger, an owl nearly vomited mouse-bits on me.

There was also a time when we had a sparrow hawk on our back porch, and my Nana had a bird nest in the awning over her back door.

Ducks and pigeons will eat from my hand.

And then, tonight, we had a mouse in the toilet.

Our shower is in the basement. Kitti went down to … have a shower, obviously. He lifted the lid of the toilet to empty out his electric razor and there, paddling away, was a mouse. A small, brown, terribly distressed mouse.

Kitti calmly closed the lid, came back up the stairs, and said “I may be on drugs, but I believe there’s a mouse swimming in our toilet.”

We went back downstairs and he lifted the lid, and paddling around in the bowl was this small, brown mouse. He’d sink, little bubbles coming from his nose, then he’d struggle back up. He kept doing that, desperately trying to find something to hold on to. Kitti found a small plastic container that I’d had hermit crabs in. I got him into the box, put the lid on it, and emptied out the rest of the water through the vent holes in the lid.

Everything they say about “You look like a drowned rat” is true. This poor little guy was shivery and panting and kept closing his eyes, then looking around again because he was wet and cold and terrified. Interesting to note: mice (or rats, or whatever he was) have eyelashes. Totally “awww” worthy.

Me being me, I put a wad of paper towels in the container with him and took him out to the back yard. I opened the lid and turned the box sideways, and gave him a handful of birdseed.

Now he’s outside, with soft paper to turn into bedding if he wants, a little shelter, and some food.

The cats remain unaffected.