SPLEEN OF MOUSE

or Horn of Toad.

On the way home this afternoon, just before turning off right past the pub, I saw a brown leaf sort of tumble and stop in the road. I slowed right down as it did not look quite like a normal leaf. I stopped. It was a Toad. I did the usual mouthing out the window at it, come on, get off the road, but it only budged an inch or two. I put the hazard lights on (yes, Micras do have hazard lights KB) and hopped out of the car. The Toad was in fact two Toads, locked in a world of their own, reproducing like, well, horny Toads. I picked them up, without it seemed disturbing their activities, slimey would be an apt description, and took them to the very handy mounting steps by the field wall and placed them on the grass, and a clear route to the big puddle where they should be heading.

A white van had pulled up, perplexed, behind my flashing Micra, but the lady driving had realised what I was about and wound down her window and gave me a big smile and a thumbs up. Phew, in the state I'm in, had it been an irate white van man he would have got a tongue lashing.

Once home I thought I could now raise my painful arm in the air and relax. But no, Freddo had his nose in a pile of stones and a meaningful wiggle to his bum. Ejecting him I found a wee Wood Mouse, not an inch in length, a sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie if ever there was one. It took an hour of defensive action and the cat now hates me, but I think the wee mousie has escaped.

Blimey, I'm worn out!