And no. Not because I got a wild hair up my buttah to workout. Not because I want to get to work super early. Definitely not because I was all rested up from my evening's slumber.
No, because at 5am my precious, stubborn dog, Riley, decided she wanted to go outside. And not wanting an accident inside, I let her out. Izzie followed, she's always up for going outside.
Now, let me start by explaining my evening and the doggie's new outside obsession. Last night, after dinner with the family (those still home), running into town with my Dad and then hanging out with the parents for a little bit, I took the girls (Riley and Izzie) home. Being as I currently do not have a dog door for the back door, I opened up the back door once home so they could run around and explore. That's what they do best, explore.
I noticed that Riley was a bit too interested in a particular corner of the yard. The corner shared with the Wickstrom's (next door neighbor) and the Schulze's (other side of the fence neighbor). She was busy trying to shove her chubby little body through a hole, she only got half of it through. Great! Just what I need, my dog to scoot to the other side of the hole into the Schulze's yard at 10:30 at night. So I brought them inside after much protest and treat bribbing, which didn't work as well as it normally does.
Well, this morning... This morning at 5 am (5 am people!) Riley started scratching at the bedroom door. Again, if she's gotta go "take care of business" it's not going to be in the house. So I let both she and Izzie out. And of course, Riley bee-lined it to that same blasted corner of the yard. So I ran though the house to grab a pair of flip flops. Luckily I was wise enough to put my glasses on before leaving the bedroom.
In the amount of time that it took me to grab flip flops and put them on (47 seconds), and then run to that corner in the yard (another 13 seconds) Riley, my little vermin catcher, had something in her mouth and she was chomping on it. This something had a tail, and tail bigger than a mouse. Eek! A rat! I'm quietly panicking because I don't want to wake the neighbors, lest you forget, it's now 5:01 am. I grab both dogs by the scruff of the neck to take back to the house. As I carry them to the house I'm praying that Riley doesn't get rabies and foam at the mouth, that she doesn't try to kiss me for the next 5 1/2 weeks, and that the tailed thing doesn't drag itself away in the minute it takes for me to toss the dogs in the house (while double checking that the door is unlocked) and grab a shovel.
Shovel in hand, I walk with my socks and flip flops (oh, did I forget to mention I had socks on too) to the tailed vermin thing. Now, at this point I was torn. Do I ... just-in-case-it's-not-dead end it, or do I just carry it to the trash can and pray for the best? I went for the clean route and carried it's little POSSUM body to the trash can. That's right, it definitely did not have the head of a rat. Thump, into the empty trash can it went. I went about my 5:02 am morning business and crawled back into bed. Riley was not allowed to join me, she had to sleep on her dog bed on the floor. Although, I think she was upset with me because I ended her fun, so she was fine with the floor.
Jump to 7am. Official planned time of getting out of bed. Dogs run straight to the back door. This time I had the insight to put flip flops on before letting them out. Riley ran staight to the corner, Izzie just ran around like a spaz. Riley was trying to find her "new toy" with no avail, so she moved on. Izzie realizes that there is a new smell and scopes it out. Oh, and she finds that there is a hold in the fence, Riley may not have been able to fit though, but Izzie can (she's a little petite thing). Distract, distract, run around the yard like a chicken, get their attention. I grabbed an extra fence board, propped it up to cover the hole, grabbed a stack of bricks to support the new board. Temporary solution. Problem diverted.
One problem still remains. And it's in my trash can. Curosity got the worst of me and I peeked in. And what I saw inside did not make my heart warm. A little (not baby, not adult) possum curled up in the corner looking at me! The nerve of it!
After getting ready for work I called my mom, told her don't let dad leave for work until I come over and tell them the story of my morning. Which I did, all the same detail as you got above. Dad's solution to the live tailed vermin possum thing in my trash can is to call Animal Control and have them take care of it. And "taking care of it" to them will probably be to relocate it.
After my dad left the room, and on my way out, I asked if my mom could just see if the brother could "take care of it" himself. I wouldn't want to subject some poor family in the vacinity of the relocation site to have to deal with the tailed vermin possum thing.
Oh, that thing better not try to get out of the trash between now and noon when the brother will start moving for the day.
Oh, and there better not be more things under the pool platform where this one came from.
And let this be known to all vermin in the neighborhood, I have a vermin-killin' dog. And she's training her daughter to do the same. You'll be a chomped on mess in worse condition than today's victim. So stay away or you'll be toast!
(You're welcome for sparing you pictures of the thing.)
(Also, please note, my dogs (at least Riley) do not actually eat the vermin, they just chomp 'em 'til they're dead.)
(Oh, and did I mention, my 5am outing consisted of me in my pajamas?... A t-shirt and underwear. I did not need to draw attention to my backyard, or get locked out. That would be bad!)