Taming of the Shrew

I was in our backyard putting some wash into the drier (it's in an outdoor closet in the back of our house. Quirky, no?), and I saw our cat, Finnegan, just sitting on the pavement playing with something.

Usually he's running all over the yard, climbing trees and stuff, so I went over to check out what he was up to. I found him teasing/torturing a teeny little baby shrew aka a pup!! It was so teensy and cute, and it was just squirming in place with it's eyes sealed shut squeaking (which means he has to be less than 3 weeks old).

I had to "rescue" him/her because it was just such a terrible scene, which is ironic because in general I'm grateful that Finnegan is keep "pests" away from our household. However, I just don't want to see his antics happening right in front of me.

The little thing would have no chance against our Kitty. I scooped it up and made a little box with dead leaves, dirt, fresh clover, crushed cat food, and a sliced grape. Apparently they have to eat like every hour and mostly survive on bugs. A bug started climbing up my hand as I was placing Baby Shrew's box in the yard under our laundry hamper (so Finnegan couldn't get to it), and I shook the bug into the box too.

On my dinner break from work, I showed the baby shrew to Steve, and he had lots of suggestions about how to let it go easy, and I know Marty Stouffer would tell me to just let nature run it's course and allow this baby shrew to face it's fate of either having its bones crushed by a cat, freezing in the night without the comfort of his mother and his nest, or simply starving to death.

Sorry, Marty. Instead Pup's sleeping in a box in our toasty warm closet.

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Here's an example of how Marty prefers to witness life-- Au Naturale.

I can barely watch it! Even though it's a kinda random video. But I can sorta relate to the mother possum at the end.

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Katy and Steve are the two people in my life who have made me suffer the most through videos portraying the wonders of Wild America's natural selection.

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I really didn't appreciate it when I was like 8, and Kate wouldn't change the channel before the Lion tackled the Zebra and tore it to pieces. I'd run from the room shrieking in horror or shiver in my seat with my hands plastered over my eyes, asking Kate, "Is it over yet?"

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I've learned to appreciate it more in my adult years, especially now that Kate has the collection. She's had quite the history with Marty Stouffer, he even celebrates her birthday. But maybe you can appreciate the beauty that is Marty Stouffer too:

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But since I know that most of you come here just for Eliza pics and updates, and many of you are grossed out by furry little rodents, here's a cute Eliza story.

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Steve and Eliza walked down to our park today, and he told me that there was a little eight year old girl who was playing with her soccer ball. Apparently, Eliza wanted to play with it too and so she followed behind the girl all the way across the playground signing and saying, "Please? Please? Please?"

I guess the little girl took pity on her and let Eliza play with the ball while she was climbing on the playground equipment. Cute, but...

Maybe next week I'll teach Eliza that it's good to say please when you want most things, EXCEPT when you want a soccer ball-- then it's no talk, all TACKLE.