Note: the following story contains references to dead rodents...so if that bothers you, please don't read it.
Earlier this week I found a dead mole in the front yard, right by the porch steps. This would usually be really nasty, but it was kind of shriveled up and dried...so it wasn't that gross...even though it sounds like it would be.
Trust me. It wasn't that nasty.
The puppies have been hanging out in that area, so I kind of scooted the deceased little fellow off to the side.
Thinking back, that was not a wise thing to do. I don't really know what I figured I would accomplish by scooting him to the side, but I did it and it's done and we can't go back, can we?
I didn't think so.
As you may guess, the next day, there was the same dead mole, laying more or less where he was the first time.
So, using two twigs like chopsticks, I picked up the unfortunate little rodent, carried him to the edge of mowed grass, and flung him into the field. There, I thought, as I watched him fly through the air and land amidst the tall grass/weeds, the dogs will never find him. They don't go into that part of the field very often.
That was silly on my part.
This morning, what do you know???? The mole is in the driveway!
So, this time, I really took care of him.
I buried him in the flower garden.
Using the garage broom, I swept him across our gravel driveway (which is quite difficult, btw...sweeping something across gravel) and through a little bit of grass. Then, using the end of the broom not usually meant for sweeping, I dug a little hole in the ground.
It was a touching funeral.
I gave him a nice, natural looking rock for a gravestone.
There he will lay forever and ever....I hope.