I’d been working in the gardens all morning. The arrival of fall brings with it a whole new set of obligations to my landscape, and more opportunities for therapy in the form of pruning, shaping, digging, and watering.
Caught inside my thoughts, I held the sprayer over purple tinged leaves. The soft thud hardly registered. The ensuing scuffle did, and instantly I knew what was happening behind me.
I turned the sprayer on the dog, knowing her dislike of all things wet, and hoping it would supersede her dislike of small, furry animals. The sprayer won, and the squirrel lay in the pine straw; twisted unreasonably, breathing heavily.
I ran inside the house to find him at the computer, deeply engrossed in a sports blog.
“Come.”, my tone and my retreating back left no room for argument.
He took one look, and shooed me inside.
Several minutes later, he returned.
“It’s ok.”, he said, as he lowered himself into the chair while giving the mouse a shake.
As a friend of mine likes to say…
“This one’s a keeper.”
© Copyright 2007-2008 Stacye Carroll
Are We There Yet? 