Harmless as a….
Posted by ravensmarch on 11 July, 2012
I have in previous installments given the sense, I think, that I don’t go in for hunting. Apart from the morality of pitting a woodland creature against the ingenuity of Man and his tools, there’s the ickiness of the aftermath. Yesterday, though, I undertook a bit of hunting that addressed both objections. You see, I’ve long held that a serious hunter will take no more weapons than balance the relative puniness of a human’s built-in weapons (going after a wolverine? Take two biggish knives!), and my expedition followed this rule. I was, in fact, entirely unarmed, and grappled my prey into submission, unharmed and ready for release back into the wild. I managed to bag two of them!
The brutes in question are these imposing examples of nature red in tooth and claw:
The Regular Job is experiencing a less profound version of one of the biblical plagues; there’s a number of these little fellows running about the place. No doubt, rather more than one expects, given the understood iceberg effect in a population of mice. Yesterday, I suppose due to population pressure in the walls, two emerged at wide intervals, made a rather ill-calculated dash across a patch of floor with little cover, and ended up in the carefully-closed fist of yours truly. The two I nabbed were immature examples, and thus even cuter than this picture would lead one to expect. If not for the swarm of cats at home and the likely howls of protest at Job, and also considerations in the direction of hantavirus, I might have kept one as a pet.
There are just a couple of completely un-pen-connected observations this minor foray into the life of Jim Fowler, apart from the unexpected revelation that I am willing to look like a damn fool scrabbling after a mouse in the interests of escorting it out of a trap- and poison-rich environment. The first of these is that a recent return to something like regular efforts at yoga have apparently done wonders for my joints; not long before the recent vacation, I was wondering if I might be looking at a set of canes in the near future, so tottering and wracked was my rising from a chair. If you’re pondering taking up the exercise, I offer an unsubstantiated endorsement of it.
The other observation is less positive. After roughly a half-century of the women’s equality movement (rather more, if we want to back-track the to efforts of the Suffragettes), I would have thought that standing on a chair and shrieking as a response to a mouse in the room was something we might see only in vintage cartoons. Yesterday, I’m sad to report, this place turned into the set of I Love Lucy, all but a couple of the women in the place crying out, “Oh, eek! It’s by your desk!” and literally climbing up on chairs to escape the terrifying monster shown in a greatly magnified picture above. C’mon, ladies! You’re not going to keep the gains the past generations have made if you keep that up!
Of course, I get a little green at the sight of a wood louse, so I shouldn’t judge too vigorously.
Today’s pen: Parker Senior Duofold
Today’s ink: Private Reserve Burgundy