Life is one surprise after another. Finding mice in the feed bucket is old hat now, but for a minute yesterday I couldn't tell what I was seeing. Bubble-gum pink is not the norm for goat chow. Three or four adult mice had leapt out when I took off the lid, and it seems one of them was a new mama. I don't know if she'd planned to raise her little ones with a convenient food source or if she'd gotten caught unprepared when her labor started. Either way, she shouldn't have been climbing up so high to the hanging bucket in her delicate condition.
The poor wee mites are hairless and blind, hardly bigger than the kernels of corn. What to do? Historically, there have been nests in the "medicine box" on the wall. I grabbed a handful of dry wipes and, handling the babies as little as possible, tucked them in with the wipes in a corner. I don't hold out much hope for these little guys, but I had to try. In my perfect world, the mama will come looking and find her tiny brood, or perhaps there is a compassionate mother mouse already living in the box (my actions were being observed by several sets of eyes) who will adopt them.
The storm that threatened yesterday held off until I got home after dark from shopping for Thanksgiving. Hurriedly shutting coop doors on chickens already tucked in and racing down to put the girls into the barn, I started unloading bag after bag of groceries while the rain, with perfect timing, started pouring on my head. What a surprise. Not.
1 comment:
Awww, I hope little Mickey and Minnie survive!! And I guess rain coming down while unloading is better than it coming down when you had to tuck the critters in bed...says Pollyanna!
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