I messed around in my yard today, getting ready for my renters who will be overtaking my lovely estate (okay, that might be stretching it a bit) in a week. I moved a wood planter that has been slowly rotting, and shortly after I moved it, Sadie approached with what I thought was a mouse hanging out of her mouth.
Wrong. It was this guy.
No, not the result of my alien abduction last year—the babies from that were green with really big eyes.
Notice this little guy has no eyes. Notice the hands of grotesque proportions. Hmm…no eyes, crazy hands. . . why it’s. . .it’s. . a. . .
YES! A baby of the little beasties that have been DESTROYING my yard.
Let’s get some close-ups of this mug that only a mother could love.
Okay, so I maybe was cooing and baby talking while taking these shots. I love ugly babies. And ever since living in Belgium where the moles are prolific, I have always wanted to hold a mole. I remember trying to coax my Grandpa McMillian into catching one for me during one of his visits. When he explained it would bite him, I suggested he don gloves.
(He’s smiling in his last close-up. He likes me!)
Did you know that moles squeak? I found this out during his modeling session.
Sadie was very excited by her find, and told me, “I can get more.”
She led me to. . .
A MOLE NEST!
I brushed some of the detritus away-- I just had to get a family portrait.
Evidently, Ma and Pa Mole had decided that under the rotten planter was the perfect place to raise their younguns.
I disagree.
Why, moles, why? Why my yard? Why under that planter? What am I supposed to do with you?
While figuring out the answers to those questions, I moved the moles into a Critter Keeper left over from my teacher days.
I’m not going to keep them.
(Mom won’t let me.)
I just don’t know what to do with them.
I know for sure I’m NOT putting them back in my yard.
No comments:
Post a Comment