Day 208 of 365
This weekend is a very busy weekend. I haven’t had time to write at all today, not even on my chicken essay, but I do have a quick farm story.
Yesterday, I was walking by Ruby’s dog crate where she, Juliet, Kate, and sometimes Bianca lay their eggs. I had seen Ruby in there earlier and saw one of her eggs in the straw. But there was something else.
I thought it was maybe a black ball next to the egg. I went in for a closer look and couldn’t imagine why a ball would be in there, but there was something round, right next to Ruby’s egg. I worried it might be something wrong with a chicken poop, so I reached my hand in to touch it.
And it moved, only like lightning! It ran across my hand and somehow past me and out the crate. It was a little dark gray mouse, and it scared me half to death.
Even though I washed my hands like 10 times, I was still convinced I had mouse germs on my hand. I swear, it seemed like my hand itched.
Later than night, I asked Ron if it was possible that my hand was itching from that mouse. He said, “oh, it’s possible. It’s psychosomatic, but it’s real.”
My hand didn’t stop itching until bed time.
I also worried all day that the poor mouse was just trying to stay warm and dry in the straw, and I ran it off. It’s for the best, but still, it was so scared. We were both very scared by the whole situation.
Farmer-ish 