As we left our soggy rodent friend yesterday he had just escaped a watery death at the hands of his arch nemesis (I always wanted to say that) and our hero Hubby.
Houdini had scurried around the rim of the stock tank – no easy feat in itself, narrowly missed being smacked by a wildly swung shovel, raced through the garden to a small opening in the garage and disappeared in the cool, dark shadows within.
No amount of cussing, screaming or digging through the accumulation of boxes, spare parts and who know what else was in the garage produced hide nor hair of the rodent.
Houdini had vanished once again – and in the process, he had discovered a new and exciting kingdom.
This is the real Harry Houdini – what an inspiration to our rodent friend.
We neither saw Houdini nor any sign of him for a couple of weeks and probably would have forgotten all bout him – allowing him to live out his days in peace if it hadn’t been for Houdini’s bad habits.
Suddenly, Grandpa’s car started having problems. Nothing big – just little things like the heater had quit working and the lights on the dash weren’t quite right. Could it be that Houdini hadn’t ridden off into the sunset like we had hoped. Had he had moved into Grandpa’s car and begun feasting on the wiring?
Yep!
So one fateful day, Hubby and Grandpa decided it was time to fix the car. We were well into fall and the cold days of winter weren’t far behind. Grandpa would need the heater fixed. They opened the hood of the big old 1974 Cadillac and stepped back in amazement – their jaws slack and agape.
It was a modern marvel of ingenuity – perhaps the 8th wonder of the world right here on our very own little ranch. Houdini had created the first mobile compost heap in history!
Being within easy access of Grandpa’s garden had, as it turned out, given our furry little rat a ready supply of veggies which he had carefully stored away for the winter. Every nook and crannie of the huge V-8 engine compartment in Grandpa’s big old car was packed with a variety of veggies, baling twine, corn stalks and whatever else Houdini could lay his fuzzy little fingers on. Empty squash and zucchini shells, rotting peppers, tomatoes and old, moldy cabbage leaves were just a few of the veggies he chose to store away with an occassional bean or onion top thrown in for a well balance diet. Believe it or not – everything Grandpa had tossed into his compost heap had found its way under the hood of his car.
I can only imagine how many trips to town Houdini and his rolling compost heap had made and how many veggies were now scattered on the side of the road – perhaps after first being shredded by the fan of the massive engine – a giant 8 valve food processor. And just think of poor Houdini, if he had ridden along he had probably been a nervous wreck, watching his food so lovingly stored for the winter falling to the ground below with every pothole and washboardy stretch of gravel road shaking more of his precious cargo loose.
Oh the horror of it! The pain and anguish!!!
And as if that wasn’t bad enough – his stash had now been discovered by the two men on earth who hated him the most.
Amid more cussing (a lot of cussing), the remains of the rolling compost heap were removed from the engine and the chewed wiring was repaired.
Rat poison and was spread throughout the garage along with the dreaded catch-em-alive trap and several rat-sized, spring-loaded, not quite what you’d call humane traps.
War had been declared!
But Houdini wasn’t afraid, and he wasn’t a quitter!!! I honestly don’t think he knew the meaning of the word.
Since things had become unbearable in the garage, Houdini packed his bags (figuratively speaking) and left – headed straight for his new life…
His life in the barn.
To be continued, again…
RanchDaze 