It’s mole season at our house! I was about ready to extend the invitation to anyone interested to come play Whack-A-Mole with us, but THEN WE TRAPPED THE MOLE! After weeks of relocating our trap and finding more and more mole hills scattered around the yard, Thomas finally saw that the trap had been sprung. We gleefully ran outside to investigate. (A few days before, the trap had also been sprung, but had no mole inside. We were afraid of another let down.)
Low and behold, there was a little gray mole caught in the jaws of death… He was actually bigger than a mouse, with surprisingly silky and clean looking fur for an underground critter. We all curiously inspected him without touching. There were no eyes to be seen, and he had long claws for digging. I can’t believe that little guy single handedly dug up my entire one acre yard plus some of the neighbor’s. He has been BUSY. Fingers crossed that there are no friends lurking about! This is a good time to use a phrase that I have never liked: #sorrynotsorry
I chronicled the start of our mole escapades in my Mole Hunting post. In case you missed that one, it involved me stabbing the whole yard. But now I have another problem: Mole Haunting!
Mr. Mole won’t let me forget what I did to him, so last night he haunted my dreams. I had a terrible nightmare that I had a muddy yard overrun by moles. Three huge spotted moles wiggled belly up in our trap, still alive. They looked like fat piglets, and I was horrified. Then I looked down and saw tiny baby moles scurrying all through the mud around my feet. I tried to step on them to kill them, but my foot just squished them deep into the mud as they wiggled around, trying to escape. I jumped all around through the mud stepping on moles, but the more I stomped, the more moles I saw! Ah! His offspring will haunt me forever!
My dream might have been brought on by the combination of our recent mole trapping with my unsuccessful attempt to rescue a bird last night. I kept hearing chirping in the engine area of Thomas’ car. We lifted the hood and looked around with a flashlight, but couldn’t locate the bird. I was hoping to save it…
I’ve saved a lot of critters during my lifetime. From baby birds that I fed worms and bugs in cat carriers until they could fly, to a kitten dangling upside down in between fence boards. I had to get outside help for that rescue. It took three adults to pry apart the fence boards to free the little guy’s leg. I was sure that he would need his leg amputated, because he had been hanging upside down for more than 24 hours. He had dried up poop on the ground below him to prove it, and he was close to dead. Miraculously, he regained full use of it!
Another time, while living in South Carolina, I spotted a great blue heron tangled up in fishing line in the trees by our neighborhood pond. I ran back to the house with Ginger and grabbed our long branch clippers. I hastened back to the frantic bird who was thrashing around in the underbrush. The fishing line wrapped around his right wing, cutting him to the bone. I was nervous that he would try to peck me with his beak, so I fully extended my arms with the clippers and snipped the line off of him. He took off in a graceful flight across the pond and landed at the water’s edge on the other side. I always looked for him on our walks after that. I kind of hoped he would remember me and want to follow me around like the story of the crow with the old man.
Can you tell I’m trying to clear my guilty conscience?
Perhaps Mr. Mole will forgive me now that he knows of my other good deeds towards animals.
No, Mr. Mole, I will not become a vegetarian.
Rest In Peace.