I looked down to discover that a VOLE was wiggling in the space between me and the arm of the couch. Being a grown woman of great sensibility, I shrieked like a little girl, and leaped from the couch like it was on fire. The vole, sensibly, dove under the cushion into the recesses of the couch.
Heavily gloved and armed with a flashlight, I probed and prodded the interior of the couch, nearly cornered the terrified rodent several times, and finally gave up and set the live trap baited with peanut butter nearby.
The cat continued to doze.
We sat down to dinner, debating the idea of leaving Norway outside, because if he caught the scent of vole and saw it scrabbling around through the fabric, chances seemed good that we would wake up to shredded couch. We also speculate on how the vole got into the couch, let alone into the house, and decide the likely culprit is the sleeping bag we brought in from the garage that had been laying on the couch for several hours.
The cat snored louder.
Then, suddenly I caught sight of it braving the outside world and coming around the corner of the still-sideways couch. I hissed and pointed and generally flailed, and as quietly as we could, Jake and I got out of our chairs and started stalking the wily beast.
It made basically a beeline for the cat, who slumbered blissfully on, then darted back behind the entertainment credenza.
I put on the heavy gloves and positioned myself at the escape end of the credenza while Jake poked and prodded and hissed and generally flushed it my direction. "This is a terrible idea," I said, but patiently waited. The vole, cautious but not terribly cowed, came my direction.
The vole hesitated, just out of Jake's reach. I could have made a grab for it, but it would have sent him hiding if I missed.
The cat snored.
Jake rattled wires.
The vole darted.
Vole safely in my gloved grip, we all cheered.
The vole took a swift air flight out into the woods, and we returned to our dinners.
The cat wheezed on in sleep.
Originally posted at Dreamwidth: http://ellenmillion.dreamwidth.org/1607798.html