Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Showing posts with label Mouse in the...erm...house? Guest Post by Blair Stringam.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mouse in the...erm...house? Guest Post by Blair Stringam.. Show all posts

Thursday, August 12, 2021

Furry, Cute and . . .

 

Blair in winter. Just add mouse...

Guest post by Little Brother, Blair.

We had little furry critters (mice) that were common around the ranch.
They seemed to be everywhere.
When a grain bin door was opened they scampered away to safety. When we pulled bales from haystacks, ditto.
A little background . . .
Every summer I had the pleasure of baling and stacking hay.
Every late fall and winter I had the pleasure of feeding hay.
Most of the time we baled an alfalfa-grass mix but on some occasions, we baled green-feed (an oat crop that is cut when green and just headed out.) Creative name, eh?
Cows really like green-feed and so do little furry critters.  Consequently, you see lots of them when you feed green-feed bales. 
On with my story . . .
One day in the middle of winter, dad and I were loading green-feed bales.
The snow had just fallen and we had a lovely white blanket everywhere.
I was pulling bales from the stack and throwing them into the back of the truck where dad was stacking them for the trip to the field. When each bale lifted, critters would skitter to the safety of another bale.
Suddenly, I got a funny feeling.
A little warm furry critter had somehow found his way up my pant leg.
Umm . . . yikes.
As the critter was slowly making his way up, I managed to grab him.
Now I had a predicament.
It was inside my pants leg. Which were inside my coveralls.
I could only stop the critter by grabbing it from the outside of said pants and coveralls.
I didn’t want it to bite me so I grabbed and squeezed.
Then I tried to shake it down my pant leg.
It wouldn’t shake. 
I turned to Dad. He of the years of experience and endless knowledge.
Surely he had some wise method to take care of this very unwanted predicament.
His advice? “I guess you’ll have to take off your pants.”
I had only this to say:
Stackyard!
In the winter!
In the snow!
In my underwear!
Yeah. Dad had a good laugh.

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