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Friday, July 22, 2016

Crunch! Shriek! Ewww!

Can you see what is in this picture? Let me zoom in for you.

And that's how my story began . . . the day my visit to the local Lawn and Garden store scarred us.

It was a normal stroll through the garden section until a small, rather cute mammal showed up. A mouse! Just like Angelina Ballerina, Gus Gus, and the Rescuers! 

We jumped backwards, startled. And as the mouse scampered towards us, we kept moving away. It may have been cute, but not cute enough to let it near us.

At that moment, a worker gentleman started to walk past our aisle. "Sir?" I got his attention, "I thought you might want to know that you have a mouse here."

His eyebrows shot up as he started to follow the mouse and he said something like, "Oh! We do!"

He started walking after it, presumably following it to know where to set a trap or something. 

The mouse sped up, not too thrilled about being followed, and tried to scamper away. 

And then, with speed like a cat, the man hopped forward and stomped on the mouse with his boot. 


I repeat.


Now, I don't know if I really heard a crunch, or if it was just my imagination  filling in the blanks. But ewwwww, right?


I shrieked.

Then the man stepped back, picked up the flattened mouse by the tail, and left the guts on the floor.

Sorry I didn't get a picture of that part, but, no. No.

I'm sure we had a look of shock on our faces. It wasn't quite the warm and cozy family experience we were planning for. 

But eventually the experience turned into a story that is fun to tell. And that man probably acted like any farmer would have. And, if nothing else, he was efficient. That mouse was gone instantly!

Do you have any stories like that? Experiences that started out . . . interesting . . . but that you are now able to look back on with a different perspective.

Like maybe that experience made you stronger, or smarter, or more aware, or happier, or more merciful. 

What is your mouse?

Note: No other animals were harmed in the making of this blog post. 

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