There were some kids on the hill at recess today, little kids, huddled around... something. That's seldom a good sign. At the very least, what they're concerned about is a steaming pile of dog shit (that might end up anywhere). Almost as bad, someone's likely got their pants down and there will be a lot of splainin' to do. One time -- years ago now -- it was a girl whose blood sugar monitor, it turned out, had been hellishly innacurate. Her sugar level had dropped so low and so fast at recess that she was in the early throes of convulsion. She might have died. Quick thinking by those on duty saved the day. (The child is fine, by the way. I ran into her several months ago. She is eighteen, maybe nineteen now and wants to be a veterinarian. Which is kind of the segue to the rest of the story.)
Today, what the kids thought they'd found was a mouse. It was moving about in the freshly cut grass. Not running like a mouse, just... moving. Willy nilly. Slowly. The little dude was black; a bit bigger than a mouse but with a different body structure. And with a tell-tale snout. They'd stumbled upon a mole. A young one.
Well, that was my day. (Aside from washing the car, installing new door knobs and lock sets at home, printing off some stuff for the chess club, and reading in the park. Life is hard.)
Oh, and the mole is fine. We left it to go on its way; we all washed our hands; and I headed for the nearest Tim Horton's for a coffee. Did I mention that I only work a couple of hours a day?
P.S. Our mole was not the one pictured. The guy in the picture has slightly bigger feet.
3 weeks ago