Last night Hobbes was sitting on the porch in the dark, and when I opened the door to let him inside he politely declined and looked down into the flower bed. Well that made my mommy ears perk up, I knew he was stalking something. He jumped down into the flower bed, I walked out to the first landing, peering out into the dark bed searching for his potential victim... but where I found it surprised me. There clinging to the porch post, eye level to Hobbes when he'd been on the porch, was a small field mouse. Now for a mouse to cling to one of our porch posts it is a major feat. They are made of metal, they are painted, and do look like wood with fluting, but they are metal. I was very surprised. I brought Hobbes in, and looked out, only to see the silhouette of that small trembling body still hanging on for dear life. So I went back out, called in Webby from his hunt, and in a while the mousie disappeared.

Then at midnight, I hear the ominous muffled mreeps of Webster as he brought to my bed, and my side of the bed, a small midnight snack of a small baby field mouse, the one that didn't get away. I wish he'd figure out that his dad needs the calories, not me, and take them to his side of the bed for now on.

Copyright © Marcia Newell
April 8, 2002