Sunday, July 1, 2012

Take only what you need and be on your way (Pendragon)

A return to Wafi tales for this post.

You will remember that we left our young hero exploring the inner workings of the clothes dryer just a few short posts ago.

Wafi has since learnt all about the soft furry little field mice that have been unearthed in the paddocks thanks to the short grass (no growth and the munchings of sheep and horses have finally got on top of things) and the cold weather.

Some of the mice have opted for warmer climes. They have tried holiday locations like the three bay shed or Habibi Stables. This is a foolish choice as SWMBO has set lethal bait stations in Habibi so that her saddlery remains untouched by rodents and I've set mousetraps in the three bay.

So they've reluctantly returned to the paddocks where Wafi does the nightly rounds. The daytime shift? Don't be silly - that's the time for sleeping inside the back door hallway where he can keep an eye on comings and goings from the house. A 'going' means that he then tags along.

I'm not kidding. Do we need to move the sheep? Wafi tags along. How about set fire to big bonfires of tree branches and old hay? Wafi's there too. Vet is here to operate on the horse's teeth? Wafi supervises from close quarters. He is more like a puppy dog than a cat.

Wafi doesn't dismember the mouse - more like he plays with it until the little thing gets tired of living. There are never any puncture marks on the little presents Wafi leaves on the back step for us to find in the mornings. 

The reason I'm dribbling on about Wafi and small furry objects is because of this morning's incident.

After breakfast my routine is to get rugged up to go and let Bazil off his leash and then feed him.

I watched this morning's final of Euro 2012 (congratulations Spain - justified winners) and after Iker Casillas lifted the trophy I went outside to do the above chore.

It was raining slightly so I donned a rain jacket and then I went to put my gumboots on. 

I was thinking about a miraculous ball that Iniesta had threaded through the Italian defence with my brain only semi clued into what I was doing vis-a-vis the gumboots. I put the left gumboot on and glanced at my right gumboot, still thinking about Iniesta's talented through ball. A fleeting thought that a large leaf was in the gumboot was abruptly interrupted as my foot nestled onto something round and furry.

My foot shot out as my brain cleared and I gazed at Wafi's present sitting in the bottom of my gumboot - a very dead soft furry field mouse.
Love and peace - Wozza

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