We found a gopher floating in the Jacuzzi this morning. This is what happens when you think you can hop a fence in the dead of night and take someone’s spa for a joy ride. Oh, it’s fun at first, but if you nod off at all, you get found the day after, floating face down without your trousers on.
My hubby did what every red-blooded man in America would do in this situation.
“Huh,” he says, peering out at the fat and furry bobbing rodent, “what’s that?”
My sons sprang into action immediately. We’ve found scorpions, spiders and Jerusalem crickets in the pool so far, and a king snake that was swimming around getting his exercise, but this was a first.
Once they fished out the gopher with the long pool net, they were also true to boyhood form and launched the thing over the fence into the wilds of the backyard. It just plopped there without ceremony, squeaky clean.
We were all leaving soon thereafter, so the gopher was forgotten five minutes later in the rush. I stood at the kitchen sink, my usual place of command central, drinking the last of my tea and staring out the window. I noticed a crow fly by and land in the yard.
I peered out for a better view.
The crow was standing next to the gopher and cocking his head sideways, deep in thought. Obviously trying to decide what it was he was looking at.
Another crow landed beside him. They looked at each other, they looked at the gopher.
And another crow joined them. Then another.
Soon there were maybe eight crows standing in a circle, all around the fat and decidedly not moving gopher.
I could almost hear them say, “Well boys, someone has to figure this out. I’m certainly feeling snack-ish. And this bugger seems rather plump and juicy. But what is that unusual smell?”
The crow that drew the short straw hopped up and took a peck.
“Dunno,” he said, “Must be food. It’s a bit wet though. Tastes like bleach.”
The other crows took a step closer.
“Nice bleach, of course,” he said, taking another peck at it. “If there’s one thing I appreciate, is when the food is already dead, cleaned, cooked and plated for me. What a treat.”
At this point, all I saw were crows, feathers flying, and when I could bear to look out again five minutes later there was no trace of crows or gopher anywhere at all.
The Circle of Life turns all day long and if you blink, you’ll miss it in action.
But it’s safe to say that if you’d rather not participate in it for now, don’t spend the night in our spa.