Posted by on Jun 3, 2021 | 24 comments

 

Well, this is from my aunty Jane in Los Angeles, who evidently is having adventures of her own!
Dear LouLou,
Thanks for sending the delightful photos of your roll in the hayseed– and:
Please advise — what ever can I do about a worrisome though winsome nuisance? I have been pestered for the past nine months or so by an (at first) sub-teen neotoma (aka Fruit Rat/Wood Rat), who is now full grown, and whom I met last spring while he was scoping out the space under the burners on my kitchen range for a place to camp on cold nights.
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I haven’t used my oven for at least a month but, alas, on the evening in question I was preheating the oven to 450° in order to bake a batch of olive bread, which made for a VERY hot floor in the under-burner space. He didn’t make a sound, and the first inkling I had of his being there was the twitch of a small, sleekly furry tail waving languidly above the narrow space surrounding a burner. I thought for a moment, and then made my best angry-cat-sound snarl. That got his attention, and somehow he scrambled back out the way he had got in, and reappeared on top of the stove. And sat there, swaying. And stared at me bemusedly. A little like this…

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Well, he would–he was stupified by the heat. Which gave me time to think. If I reached for a tea towel and tried to catch him, he could take off in any direction, sore feet or no. So I backed away, and went to fetch an old bathroom hand towel. On the way back, I heard a splash and a clatter.
The silly thing had tried to escape, but in the wrong direction. He had leapt into the sink, landed in the saucepan full of water that was soaking there, and scrambled out to hide behind the pan. The sink was too deep for him to climb out, so all I had to do was lift out the saucepan and gather him up in the towel.
But what was I to do with him? If I put him out in the garden, he would just come in again. Too bad I couldn’t just drop him over the patio fence atop the town wall into an olive grove far below the way I did with captured Italian field mice the first time I housesat for my cousin Marcia in Montisi…
[I see you sitting up! “Italian field mice?” No, they didn’t come back after Marcia acquired a full-time cat named Nevi.  So you didn’t miss anything because your Mama and Papa left you in Rome when they visited Montisi. Besides, they had been very small mice.]
 
BUT, to go on with why I need your advice, the story didn’t end when I took him out into my own small back patio and dropped him over the hedge atop the retaining wall onto the slope below,
 
[ I don’t think his mamma heard his call…… If she did… “Certainly didn’t learn/learn your lesson about stoves”
“Mama, why do you think I abandoned a perfectly made new nest”]
Sorry, Loulou!—to be continued when I have world enough and time…
Love,   Jane
Well, I am trying to think up a solution but if anyone has one, please pass it on.  He is SOOOOOO cute!  I think sending him here to play with me might solve the problem….Heh, heh…