The Mouse

I enjoy watching Reba play in the backyard from the warm vantage point of my kitchen.  She pounces, runs, jumps, roots, and plays with Bella or Moxie.  Reba was especially interested in her latest treasure, throwing it into the air, pouncing on it, and shoving it with her nose.  Peering a little closer I realized she was playing with a mouse.  

Out I went to take her treasure away from her and dump it into the burning barrel (I know highly not environmentally friendly).  Outside I approach her and encourage her to come to me, when the mouse moved!  "It's alive!!" I screamed.  I had thought it was something she scavenged, instead she must have hunted it.  I do not like mice and had visions of this thing faking being dead only to jump up and run up my pants.  Ugh!

Reba of course did not want to give up her treasure and I did not want to get too close.  So Reba and I danced around the twitching mouse, with Reba thinking I'd created a grand new game.  With a stroke of brilliance I ran towards the corral - sure to draw Reba off.  With Reba distracted thinking we were going to the sheep I grabbed the shovel and gingerly scooped the floppy mouse up.  With a wary eye on it - lest it run up the handle of the shovel - I deposited it into the burning barrel.  

Now I fully realize I should have put it out of it's misery but I just couldn't bear too.  Yuck!  (Hey - I never said I was a good farmer!)