Our visitor, part one

The other night, I went outside to cover up our lettuce crop, as it was expected to freeze.  About the time I'd just stepped outside I saw what looked like a gerbil, walking along the top of the raised bed.  He was sauntering, actually.  When he saw me, he casually hopped off the bed and disappeared into the darkness.

My only questions were 1) what in the hell was a gerbil doing in our back yard, and 2) how much sparkling blackberry wine HAD I actually enjoyed that evening -- enough to see imaginary gerbils? Were my adventures in winemaking finally catching up to me?  Or was the gerbil an escapee from some child's cage in the neighborhood?  Did someone release him after they figured out, hey, these creatures smell and need their cages cleaned often?  It happens.  I once ended a friendship with someone when she told me she'd taken her son's pet gerbil down to the slough and released him because he ran on his wheel at night and it made noise.  Crazy, huh?  A nocturnal creature exercising on the wheel that had been provided to him by his owners.  When I protested that there was NO way a tiny, tame creature could survive in the slough on his own, she told me I was wrong because she had taken great pains to bring his little see-through plastic gerbil igloo down to the slough as well -- see, his house was there, so he'd be fine.  I got the check, left, and never spoke to her again lest I throttle her.


But back to our current, 2012 gerbil tale. I saw him again last night.  And this time I got a better look.  Last night I went outside cover the raised lettuce beds again, and I saw him coming across the yard.  He ran AT me this time, completely unafraid.  But again, I lost sight of him in one of the darker corners of our yard, where our lights don't shine.


But I know more than I did before. First, I know he's not afraid of me.  Not one little bit.  Second, I now know he has a tail, because I saw it.  Whether he's a huge mouse, a small rat or even a young possum, I don't know.  But they've been doing some brush removal from a nearby field, so I'm guessing he's a fugitive rodent from over there.  

I saw another fugitive from the same removal project yesterday. It was an old raccoon, laying by the side of the road after being killed by a car.  It was, and I kid you not, the size of a border collie.  It was so large, people were stopping their cars to get out and have a look. I didn't stop, because this kind of thing distresses me.  This big old raccoon had been living peaceably in the trees and brush, probably for years, until the developers decided they needed to clear the trees, which have probably been there for 50 years themselves. And so the lovely trees died, Mr. Raccoon lost his habitat and, soon after, his life.  I grieve for any creature who loses his habitat -- even raccoons.  Or gerbils-rats-possums.  


And I wonder if the people who took out all those trees had any idea he was living around there.  If they did, they missed an opportunity many of us don't take when we are presented with a problem like stray possums or raccoons.  They missed an opportunity for trapping and relocation.


So here's the plan.  I bought a lovely live animal trap on Amazon today, which should be here in a few days.  I will bait it, and I will wait patiently.  And when we catch our rogue rodent friend, Big Ag and I will take him away, find a nice spot at the ranch where there's a good supply of water, trees, food, and lots of places to hide from predators, and we will release him there.


He does not belong in my yard, that much is certain.  But every one of God's creatures belongs somewhere.  If The Lord cares for the sparrows, why wouldn't he also care for the field rats and the raccoons?  My only regret is that the raccoon found himself under the wheels of a car before he found his way into my yard and into a live animal trap, which would have been his ticket to a new, wild home.  Because creatures like raccoons and rats are only "nuisance pests" when their paths intersect with ours.  Left to their own devices in the wild, they are no problem for anyone.