When I got up this morning, I was sitting here in the dining room at the computer. I kept hearing little sounds coming from the garage...it sounded like something was rooting around in the recycling bins, but I wasn't exactly sure. When I opened the door to look out, the noises stopped. I sat back down, and a little later they started up again. I crept over to the door, being as quiet as a little mousie, and snatched open the door--a-HA! Nothing. I got dressed for a workout and when I opened the garage door to step out into the workout area, I saw a tail disappear under the stuff in the recycling bin. A little mousie tail. I could hear little rustles and chirpy sounds coming from the bin, so I got my coat and gloves on and took the bin outside.
I dumped out most of the cans, but still no sign of Mousie. I heard another little sound from the can and dumped out the rest, along with Mousie! He ran over by the garage door, and dived under a rock leaning against the siding. He wasn't one of those little grey mousies that Sheeba likes to find in the basement, he was a good-sized brown field mouse. I was feeling pretty good about rescuing the little fella, but then I got to thinking...
It's fairly cold here today, and it's snowed a little bit. There's a little bit of wind, sometimes gusting. Mousie somehow found his way into the recycling bin, where he had access to the small amounts of beer left in a few cans, and we have heaters out there, so it's about 55 degrees in the garage.
I bet Mousie was cursing that buzz-killing brunette lady who dumped him out of his nice, warm, beery bin and into the cold, snowy outdoors.