So, following up the pea post from yesterday: I harvested my second big batch of peas last night. I shelled them and left them in their bowl on the back porch’s table and went into the kitchen to start making dinner. When it was time to cook the peas, I went to the porch and found the peas in their bowl, but there was a large depression in the center, and about a third of the peas were gone. “Did you eat any peas?” I yelled up to Tom. “Nooo,” was the answer. I looked at the peas again. Then I noticed Nyxie sitting on a chair, washing her whiskers. (Who knew.)
I was really depressed by this, though. Such hard work. Then I thought back on the day, and the day started this way: Tom got up to make coffee. He yelled up to a still-sleeping me that Penny, the dog, had had an “intestinal event” on the same back porch, on the throw rug in front of the door. Then the child came into our room, and I heard her happy self say “Look at this toy!” and I looked to see her lift a large mouse, dead, up from the foot of the bed. It appears that Echo, the other cat, had made us an offering when we were sleeping.
I explained how, though it looks like a toy, it is actually a dead mouse, and that we shouldn’t play with dead things. She was a bit sad. Then, when things were cleaned up and we went downstairs and the child saw the cat, she said “Thanks for the gift, Echo, but it was gross and we flushed it.” (For the record, I did not call the dead mouse “gross,” just dead.)
So we finished up dinner with the last 2/3rd of the peas, and went to the beach. That cheered me up. And maybe tomorrow, there’ll be more peas, more human-destined peas, in the garden. And today, so far, the pets have left us no surprises.