As mentioned before this is not my first rodeo as far as living in the country. It has been so long since the first time I think I have forgotten everything I learned, or else I didn't learn anything. I can't remember :-)
I do know that I was young (20ish) and we did not have dogs.
We moved to the country in August of 2013, since then I have learned a handful of things.
1. There are lots of spiders out there. By lots I mean GAZILLIONS and this must be the egg-sack carrying time of year. Please excuse me while I go throw up! Before you get all "they are good to have around" on me, I know this and I don't give a rip. I HATE them and want to ban them from my property! All 10.5 acres of it!!!
2. I am not opposed to picking up random body parts from cows, pigs, deer and other creatures I could not identify. If needed I will have a tug-o-war with said body parts to keep Talia from bringing them in the house. She hasn't carried anything new home in a couple weeks now. Strange...
3. I have a soft spot in my heart for turtles, snakes, snails, moles, skinks, frogs, anything that is NOT an arachnid, flea, tick, roach or june bug.
4. Because of said soft spot I will slam on my breaks to "rescue" a snake, turtle, frog, or whatever little creature I happen to see in distress.
Since living on the farm I have rescued 2 snakes, 2 frogs, 3 turtles, 1 praying mantis, multiple snails and 1 mole. Yes I said mole. I was torn, they screw up the yard but they are sooooo cute!
I was on the phone with the significant other and saw Truman and Talia in the front yard. I looked out the door in time to see Truman toss something in the air. "What the hell is that?" I said as I walked out the door. Truman dropped it and it was a mole. I am not sure if it was a child, teenager or adult as the amount of mole knowledge I have could fit in a thimble. I keep the dogs from coming back to it and tell the other "gotta go and save a mole". I tried to corral it with my sock feet and get it back to where I thought it belonged. It kept going in circles. Apparently being blind and tossed around by dogs makes you act like you have just had a long enjoyable evening at the bar.
I decide that I need to pick him(I don't know how to tell what sex a mole is) up and carry him across the yard to a "safer" place where he can burrow in to one of the many mole holes already there. I reach down and gently touch the little sucker while talking to him in a calm voice explaining I am not going to hurt him. He did the holy hell don't kill me flip to his back and cover his face with his front webbed feet. Ok so I guess I will just pick him up. Worst case is he scratches me with his nails and pees on me. As I began to gather him in my hands he screamed! SCREAMED I tell you!! Did you know moles screamed? I sure did NOT!
Well that is not going to work. I decided to go in an grab a dish towel to wrap him in. I get the dogs to go in the house, amazed they actually listen to me, and grab a towel. I went back out and wrapped him up and took him to where I thought he belonged. He did not scream so I think the dark in the towel may have made him feel safe. What do I know? I am not a mole psychologist.
I got the little guy over to some soft dirt and put him down, I watched for a bit until I saw a freaking arachnid run across the ground. I said F this! Good luck little guy, hope you find your mole family.
He must be ok since I have not seen a mole carcass in the last few days!
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