Vhich Vay Did They Vo

Once again on a rainy day I wrangled a vole from the home. This time it was Victoria. Just had to be. Autumn past I wrote about Vinnie and his short stay here so I pondered, as I do time to time, Victoria was his mate. Truth be known, while I slid her into the bowl I’m sure I heard her squeak, “innie, innie” and being voles they can’t pronounce the V letter so it made perfect sense to me.

Off we went to the ole creek where she was set free as was Vinnie. She dove into the snow so quickly after picking up his scent that I wouldn’t want to be him when they met up. The tale of “sorry dearest, just slipped out for a few grains and lost me way” wouldn’t hold water with me.

After returning I went out for a walk about and low and behold, I found those two had been busy! The garden above looked like a subway. Tunnels here leading there, leading to back over here and away over there. I stood in awe at their engineering talents. Thru ice and snow, but zigging around rocks, there wasn’t a Stop sign in site.

Though I sigh when I see a critter scurry across the floor, I now have new respect for them. Makes me ponder, if transportation engineers should investigate how these wee creatures do it on time and under budget. So too Innie and Ictoria, long may you live, but just not in my backyard. And I shall always remember a vole in a bowl, is better then a mouse in a house. :)