After all that rain followed by a cold spell, more rain, snow and freezing rain, one would expect an invasion of mice, looking for shelter as well as food.
I wondered out loud about this, and my son told me that most traps waiting for these visitors were snapped and without bait anymore. I told him this would be the time for us to attack full force. So he did, starting with the one behind our refrigerator, which always had been in the path of our little co-dwellers.
I had already turned off my light for the night.
My son had just left the room in order to put more baited traps out in other parts of the house, when I heard the trap snap and my deaf dog got up to check it out.
When my son returned to the room I told him I was sure he had already caught the first one. He turned the light on and saw Rusty pawing the trap. It was empty — no bait and no mouse. So, again he baited the trap. This time with fresh cheese, and topped it with thick layer of peanut butter. He continued setting traps.
As soon as he left I heard the trap behind the refridge snap again, and I knew that Rusty was trying to retrieve it. I told my son the trap had snapped again. What did he find? No mouse, but Rusty was pawing the trap that he had snapped and was licking clean.
You know, I always press his pill in a peanut butter covered sandwich, which he loves. Even our other dogs know that this is Rusty’s treat and leave him alone. So Rusty had seen my son fixing the trap and claimed this delicacy for himself. And was licking all the bait off and washing the trap with his drool. We laughed ourselves silly. This is the dog I had been afraid we should put to sleep. He was almost unresponsive, had hardly any teeth, and had trouble getting up on his arthritic legs.
We had not been fooled by the mice, but by this “dumb” dog. Since then we have caught several mice again who had enjoyed the free run in the house.
The pills to get rid of the poison in my body have also done Rusty much good, since I share my pills with him. I also have discovered that, underneath his long well-kept hair, the skin was covered with clots and knots of hair. Since then I have been brushing him and cutting much of the hair off, so he can breathe again through his skin. He loves the attention, and when I show him the scissors and brush he comes for treatment. This is so different from Bella, who runs away as far and as fast as she can when she sees brush or scissors in my hand.
I just got a call that my husband and his caregiver are back home in Clare, Michigan, after she had her surgery. He was still trying to get a fire going in their wood stove to heat up the ice-cold house. The doctor had discharged her yesterday, and they had decided to stay another night, since the roads were very slick. So that is a relief. Now life can return to “normal” for all of us.
I did not go to church this morning, had too many things on my mind. I could not get in touch with my husband since their telephone at that motel was out of order. Besides that I was so slow in getting started this morning, that when I was ready to go the service had already started half an hour ago. A good thing that I stayed home, otherwise I would have missed the call that they were back home.
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