The mole

We have a bit of a mole problem in our neighborhood.

And when I say "a bit," what I mean is "a lot."

The other day, Captain Midnight noticed a freshly dug mole hole in our yard, so he decided he'd try to convince the mole to come out of the lawn. He did this by sticking a hose in the new hole and turning on the water.

Sure enough, this little critter subsequently came popping out. (It is probably Scapanus orarius, a Coast Mole.) And Miss V, who loves all things small and fuzzy, sprang to its rescue immediately, hollering, "DON'T KILL IT!"

She captured the rather wet mole in a canning jar...

...and conveyed him to the bathroom to dry him off. Here Mr. Mole poses in the sink with a few Goldfish crackers for the sake of scale (most moles prefer to eat insects).

Miss V immediately decided she was the mole's mother.

Two things got in the way of an immediate adoption, though: 1) moles are wild creatures who belong in places where they can dig freely, and 2) our landlord would not be pleased.

So CM and Miss V went to a bit of wild acreage not far from our home (but far enough away that Mr. Mole isn't likely to come back and visit)...

...and Miss V released her charge into the wild. The moment he hit dirt, Mr. Mole started to dig; he was out of sight within four seconds.

Thus ends our tale, at least for now. I'm sure there will be some sort of postscript the next time a suspicious mound shows up in our lawn.