Every time the dog whines to be let out, we exit the kitchen door, through the attached garage and out the back door to the yard. Most mornings this is a fairly uneventful process, but today as I waited inside the garage for the canine to finish her business, I was startled by a metalic crashing outside on the front driveway. At least I thought it was outside. The neighbor perhaps? Nope. No one was there.
Aw, crap. One of the cats must have scooted out the door without me seeing again. I performed an Official Feline Count by peeking back inside the kitchen.
One. Two. Three. Nope the OFC was correct. All whiskers present and accounted for.
Aw, crap. It WASN'T a cat.
Then I saw hubby's
extensive collection of empty beer cans move. Move a lot. Inside the garage. Inside with me.
I shooed the dog back into the kitchen, left the back door to the yard open in case "Whatever It Was" needed an exit and ran inside the house as quick as I could.
For my camera.
Now properly armed as a dedicated blogger should be, I returned, stood and waited.
More scuffling and cans banging.
"Hello?" (Erm, right. As if "Whatever It Was" was going to answer.)
A shadow passed under the rider mower. A skunk perhaps?
I kept watch, camera at the ready as more tiny crashes emanate from the pile of Kokanee empties. But nothing emerges, so I decide to carefully clean up the mess and bag the cans, discovering one that's still partially full but frozen.
Ahhh... I now theorize the noise was likely a thirsty mouse with a taste for beersicles, and in a fit of drunken stupor was ricochetting like a pinball off the empty beer cans in a panic to escape.
I just wish I could have taken photographic evidence of it.
Dammit. That woulda been so cool!
I guess we'll just have to make do with the following tres accurate "artist's rendering" of the scary and highly dangerous animal instead:
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