Small Friends

Flute Snoot and Braveheart are two mice who visit the barn every day.  I throw down a handful of grain in a corner of the milking room when I come in and as soon as I settle with a milker, my guests appear.  There are mouse holes all over the room, and Flute Snoot comes up right by the grain.  Braveheart runs all the way across from another corner, the equivalent of many city blocks, given his size.  There are other mice who occasionally visit the buffet, but I can count on seeing these two small friends regularly.  If a barn bird surprises Braveheart at breakfast, he'll do a bank shot off the wall and dart back to his burrow.  Sex is arbitrarily assigned...I don't honestly know if "he" is a he.  The Flying Wallendas have never received individual names as they go flying out of the feed dish at dusk so quickly they're little blurs as I put the girls to bed.  A mother mouse is raising a litter in the cabinet where I keep the medical supplies.  She and I have come eye to eye several times.  Mamacita must be a relative of Braveheart, because she will face me down to protect her babies. 

After milking yesterday, Sheila made a couple of passes, calling, around the barn and then wandered up the hill to the alfalfa.  Animals don't seem to rail against their fate, but accept that it is what it is.  I'm not sure that isn't more touching than her sorrow.  I heard from Sarah...Uma and #21 have made friends with their new playmates.  She has renamed them Cleo and Clyde.  I will give this news to Sheila this morning.