A couple of weekends ago, I got home from market and opened the chicken coop to check for eggs. There's a funny little ledge inside the door, which is hidden when the door is closed, where I often startle mice or see a little stash of mouse-hoarded corn. On that day, I surprised a small mouse with a missing tail, who was hovering over three just-born pink babies. I shut the door quickly, and decided that I should perhaps introduce a nice box for them to hide in from the omnivorous chickens.
In the process of introducing the box, with the best of intentions, I scared off the mother mouse. Hmmm. But I left the babies in the box for the evening. I checked back at night when I locked up the coop, and there was still no sign of the mother. So I decided to just move the babies back to the original ledge, and hope she would come back for them if they were where she had originally left them.
Kind of worried about it that night, since I was starting to feel responsible for messing with this situation, even with good intentions.
The next morning, heading out to Sunday market, there were only two babies left on the ledge. Did that mean she had come back for them? Or had one fallen out and died? When I got home again that afternoon, I ran right over and checked. No sign of any babies on the ledge...oh well, end of story. But then I saw one on the ground, where it had fallen...still shockingly alive 24 hours after my first "intervention." Ok ok, at this point I definitely felt responsible and decided to try to take care of it myself rather than let it die from my neglect.
My internal dialogue by now is going something like this: "Why am I doing this? I mean, I cheer for my cats when they kill mice! I don't WANT mice in my house! This is just an exercise in heartbreak anyway if I get attached, because chances are very slim it will survive. I don't WANT to do this, but I feel responsible and have a choice here. I should try to choose the chance of life over the certainty of death."
So I installed the wee baby in a Chinese takeout container, on some cloth, with a hot water bottle under the container to keep it warm. Got some eyedroppers. Looked up on the internet what to do. Did you know that you have to stroke a baby mouse with a wet q-tip to make it, umm, eliminate? (That mimics the mother mouse's licking, which it needs.) Fed it tiny drop by drop...all I had were half-and-half and eggs, mixed with water to thin it. Took it to a potluck because I needed to feed it. Was amazed every time I checked that it was still alive. This little thing was about the size of my first finger joint, and you could see through its skin....fragile, but surviving. I didn't get attached. Why was I doing this? All this care and work for a baby mouse of all things, this is ridiculous.
Maybe two days later I was out at the coop again, locking up in the evening. I spotted a nice fluffy mouse nest on top of the nesting boxes, and carefully poked it to see if it was occupied. It was!! So I decided, with great relief, to leave the baby I was attempting to care for in the nest and hope for the best. The next morning all seemed well, so I felt I had discharged my duty.
So in one way this is a happy ending. I feel good that I took care of my responsibility and made the choice to try to make a good ending out of a situation I had messed up. But in another way it's not...I got some new hens the next day, and in the process of getting them settled the mouse nest was destroyed. But that was ok, because it wasn't through my intervention or neglect.
I'm processing some of the photos from my west coast adventures, and you really should see this one! Mt Shuksan, in the North Cascades, reflected in Picture Lake, apparently one of the most photographed spots in the world, and I see why. What a perfect, clear day...I was field-tripping up to Mt Baker with the legendary Doc Sheldon, looking for ptarmigan and mountain goats.
I'm home from my reconnaissance trip to Oregon and Washington, and just getting back to my computer and scanner and other tools of modern communication. It was a sleepless red-eye flight home after a fine drive down the Columbia River Gorge to Portland with all the mountain out, and it took a few days of weird nap times and general discombobulation and crankiness to get myself back in line. Not to mention returning to a house which two poorly-behaved but adorable cats had been living in unsupervised for almost three weeks. Not to mention a full market weekend, and preparing to hang another show in a few days. BUT it's great to see my Ithaca friends and the lovely fall weather, and I really love my own comfortable bed.
Even though we're already nearing the end of September, it's not too late to show you what my botanical show at Brookton's Market looks like. Go check it out, and pick up some coffee and a few groceries while you're there...my paintings will be up until October 3rd. I'm proud of my little town's beautiful market.
Monday morning...early fall has arrived in Ithaca, it's chilly and damp and grey. Some of my crazy friends keep claiming that fall is their favorite season, but that is not an opinion I share...I'm sad to see the sun hide, and also generally dislike being cold. Basically this weather change makes me want to buy plane tickets...which I did, and I'm heading out to make a grand tour of Oregon and Washington a week from today!
A couple of weekends ago, I got home from market and opened the chicken coop to check for eggs. There's a funny little ledge inside the door, which is hidden when the door is closed, where I often startle mice or see a little stash of mouse-hoarded corn. On that day, I surprised a small mouse with a missing tail, who was hovering over three just-born pink babies. I shut the door quickly, and decided that I should perhaps introduce a nice box for them to hide in from the omnivorous chickens.
