The Mouse And The Motorcycle

Ah, the joys of country life!

I have so many childhood memories of catching field mice in the tack shed after they'd gorged themselves on oats and horse feed. Or the gifts of dead mice our ranch cats used to leave on the door step. At one time we had a whole family of mice living above the paneled ceiling downstairs. We'd lie on our backs and wait with anticipation for one to unsuspectingly run across the plastic light cover. Then we'd pop the light with a broomstick and watch the mouse do back flip after back flip before scurrying to safer ground. And how could I forget the night my uncle Richard threw a sleeping bag on a bed in the Ranch House and slept all night - smothering a mother mouse and a nest of babies nestled between the bedsheets.

This morning I was startled to find this unfortunate little deer mouse while reaching for clothes out of my suitcase. In my haste to corral the kids out of the bedroom before they touched the dead thing, Brigham dropped the toy he was playing with. When I went back moments later to clean it up, I had to chuckle at the perfectly placed toy motorcycle. And can only imagine what amazing motorcycle stunt our beloved Ralph was up to - ending in such a tragic accident.