Before long, I decided that we should all get out of the pool and dry off some before heading into the house. If there's one thing that really irritates me, it's having dripping wet kids dripping all over in the house. I also despise wet shorts or swim trunks on a pile in the bathroom. Eeewww!! I told the boys that we'd head up to the house (the pool is at the bottom of a huge hill in our back yard) and we'd just "hang out" for a few minutes before we'd head into the house so that we'd have some time to dry off.
As a rule, the last one out locks the gate and carries the key up to the garage. Today, it was Collin. Corey raced up the hill and ran straight into the house. (ugh) Collin, Bradley, and I took our time and Collin hung the key in the garage. Then, he ran up the steps and went into the house. Brad and I stayed in the garage where it wouldn't matter if the floor got wet.
As we stood there, I noticed something by Dennis air compressor. It was moving! Upon closer inspection (I'm so brave!), I noticed that it was a mouse. A tiny little mouse. A cute little mouse. A tiny, cute, OH MY!!!, it's a tiny, cute, SUFFERING mouse!! As we dripped, we watched the poor little thing struggling to catch his breath. His (every animal is a "he" unless it's a cat) little heart was just about pounding out of his body as he struggled to breath. The poor little thing....well, that's what I said, not Brad, he really didn't care.
We watched the little thing for a minute, at most, when Collin came back down and into the garage. He asked us what we were doing and we showed him the little mouse. He really didn't say too much, but was interested. The animal lover in me was coming out in full force. "Poor little thing" , "Maybe we should get "Dad" so he can end it's suffering", followed by a few more "awwwww's" and my sad face.
It was then, that Collin realized how much of a softy his mom really is. To make me feel better, my sweet little boy told me his thoughts....we should just go upstairs and I should try to forget what I saw. How sweet of my boy! He didn't want me to be sad. If only life were that simple...just walk away and forget.
I then found a dust pan and brush and decided to scoop the little mouse up and I grabbed a shovel to start digging a hole for his burial. I tried several times, in several spots, but I was having no luck. Do you know how hard it is to dig a hole, in rock, while wearing flip flops? The third spot was a little better, but I was still pretty much getting no where fast. :(
As I was trying to dig, we heard Dennis in the garage. He came out and asked us what on earth we were doing. Then, we explained everything and he went in to the garage to see for himself. I told him that he would have to help us out and that we had to end the little thing's suffering. To which he replied, "OK! Who wants to shoot it with the bb gun?" To my astonishment, my sweet little boy, Collin, was the first one to excitedly pipe up with, "I will, I will"!!!
I think my jaw hit the floor? This sweet little boy of mine, just minutes before, was feeling sad and trying to make me feel better, told me that I should just go upstairs and forget about it, was now VOLUNTEERING to be first in line at ending this poor little mousie's life!
After watching me struggle, Dennis laughed and took the shovel from me. He finished digging the little hole and gave me a hard time about having the hole dug before the mouse was even dead. He made a few other remarks, something on the order of me being nuts.
The three men (and I use that term lightly), Dennis, Bradley, and Collin headed into the garage......
I could hear the pumping of the bb gun...... I put my fingers in my ears and proceeded to "la la la" while staring up at the roof. I could faintly hear the excitement of the three of them followed by laughter. I took my fingers from my ears and asked if the "job" had been done. I got a, "No". Fingers back into my ears, continued to "la la la" until I heard a faint, "Alright Brad, you got 'em"!
I then heard the scrape of the dust pan on the floor and the three of them came out to the hole. Dennis flopped him in and I covered him up. They laughed as I said a few words and named my little "friend"....Jerry (as in Tom & Jerry) Garcia (because it goes well with Jerry ;) ) Mousie (perfect last name for a mouse! They continued to laugh at me while I told them how wrong it was of them to find joy in all of this.
Due to the "evidence" found, we did not have to perform an autopsy. No toxicology reports needed. It was determined that Jerry Garcia Mousie was poisoned. It was an assisted suicide....(Brad ultimately finished what the poison had started).
Poor little "Jerry Garcia Mousie". RIP little rodent.
"Said" poison block that "JGM" ingested.... (looks like he digested some of it too!)
The scene of the crime:
"JGM's" final resting place: