Critters

When I was younger, one of my family's favorite vacation spots was my Grandma's cabin.

We would almost always go to the cabin once every summer as a family, and I would also spend some time up there with my grandparents.  My Grandma was an animal lover.  When we stayed at the cabin, one of the highlights was seeing all the animals.  We would put sunflower seeds and peanuts on the railing for the chipmunks and squirrels, and it was a rare treat to see the deer at the salt lick, or to spot a flying squirrel.

My grandma had named several of the animals, and she felt that it was her personal duty to take care of all of them.  I remember spending hours watching the quick little chipmunks stuffing their cheeks full of the seeds, and creating all kinds of obstacle courses for them.  We would lure them into little chipmunk houses made out of my Grandpa's baseball hats.  I still remember the feeling of little chipmunk feet in my hand on the rare occasion that I was patient enough, and held still enough for one to eat out of my hand.

We loved watching them.

Yesterday, I got to experience that feeling of watching little animals forage once again.

I was in my kitchen, doing dishes, and I noticed something scurrying along under my tree.  I had that rush of excitement that I used to feel as I watched the chipmunks for .3 seconds, until I realized that I was not at the cabin, and I realized that the critter was not a cute chipmunk.  Two very large brown rats were scurrying back and forth between my cucumber plants, and their nest they have under our shed.  I'm pretty sure these animals are responsible for the nest we found in our garage.  They were cute, and I did enjoy watching them run back and forth with food in their mouth (although, I did have a tough time sleeping last night).  But that didn't stop me from having my husband stock our backyard and garage with a good supply of D-Con.  I hope Grandma understands.

I would love to say that this will be the last chapter in my escapades with critters book, but I am afraid that there will be another one coming soon.  There is a hole in a wall that leads from the garage to our storage room.  Recently, we have found pieces of insulation on the floor, and on another occasion, small pieces of drywall.

{{sigh}}