The Mousecapades

Just a little tail (I mean tale) that was too entertaining not to share and it went something like this:

Hickory, dickory, dock,

The mouse ran up the clock,

The clock struck one

The mouse ran down

Hickory, dickory, dock.

Well actually, it was a deer mouse and he did not run up a clock but a Honda Element, BUT it was around one (AM) and he did not run down as easily either.

We were parked at a campsite in Ohanapecosh and staying in Elle for the night due to the ease (and comfort) of our bed in there (Home is where you park it!). 

Getting the full Pacific Northwest weather experience, it was raining and the sounds of the drops on the roof were quite soothing.  We were warm, dry, and sleeping soundly until around 1AM. 

"tk tk tk tk scratch tk tk tk scratch"

There are plenty of “unfamiliar” sounds while camping and your imagination goes wild with the smallest sounds in the dead of night.  Usually, for this very reason, we wear earplugs when we sleep but the sound of the rain on the roof was so soothing we skipped it this time. 

And again “tk tk tk tk scratch tk tk tk scratch” above our heads.

In the grogginess of waking, I ask Karl if he hears something, and his mumbled response is something about how he opened the latch of the moon roof to vent some air and a moth must have gotten in. All I could think was, “That is one big ass moth then.”

Silence, giving us just enough time to start falling back into unconsciousness until: "tk tk tk tk scratch!"

We both blink, scrambling for our headlamps, only to shine the red beam up to a small hole that is in the plastic pillar on Karl’s side of the Element’s leading to the roof liner. Sticking out of that hole are WHISKERS!

Shocked with being spotted, the whiskers retreat into the hideout and again across the top of our heads: the scampering “tktktktktktkt” of little legs running to the other side, and he looks out again.

Our warm dry haven was tempting and this guy wanted to join us by crawling through the slotted opening of the moon roof and into the gap that is between the roof and inside the headliner of the Element!

In my sleepy state, I could not stop giggling. All I could think of was Doug (the dog from UP!) saying “Get off of his ROOF!” so I named our visitor Kevin. Karl, not as entertained, scrambled around in the small confines of our bed space muttering things like “he better not chew anything important!” while knocking on plastic parts of the pillars and roof trying to determine where Kevin might have scurried to.

I suggested we use duct tape to cover the exposed holes at the top of each pillar that Kevin keeps running between to look out of. Thinking that if those new routes are blocked off, he will go back to where we came in from, the moon roof exit.

Taped up, the waiting game began.

With it still raining and all but one exit (that we knew of) for Kevin blocked, I was snuggling up again, getting ready to go back to bed. Figuring that we could deal with Kevin in the daylight… Karl, slightly on edge, finally joined and we begin to doze.

And then all at once:

Louder: “Scratch Scratch Scratch” noises right above our heads…

And a tap on my shoulder…. Thinking Karl is tapping me awake again, I say “Karl, was that you?” He replies, “No, whhhyyyyyy????”

And Kevin, sitting on my shoulder, RUNS on the blanket over to Karl and then down along my legs, only to disappear behind the passenger seat.

Karl is asking me why I didn’t try to catch Kevin in the blanket, and I am in another giggling fit asking Karl how he expected me to catch Kevin when I was half asleep.

Oh sleep, it was far from our minds now (I was laughing too much and Karl was pissed because now Kevin was where our gear, clothes, and food are stored)… So, rather than a just a noisemaker above us, below the bed he could actually cause damage to something. Thankfully, the weather spirits smiled upon us at this point because the rain turn into only a mist and we opened the passenger side doors and started disassembling (pulling things like my duffel of clothes, the food storage container, etc) and making sure they were Kevin free.

Kevin, the adorable lil bugger, actually never went under the bed; rather he flitted between the space under the passenger seat and the foot well (and into my hiking boots a few times). Kevin made his way to the edge multiple times, only to retreat back into the dark crevices under the seat, changing his mind last minute while Karl is outside the car trying to sweet talk Kevin out of the open doors.  I’m still on top of the bed, watching the saga draw out with a huge grin.

Apparently, I think like a mouse or something, but I had an idea and told Karl to use my rolled up yoga mat as ramp from the door ledge to the ground and then walk away.  *My thought process was that if I was Kevin’s size I would not want to leap that far either…

The waiting game (round 2) began.

Within a minute of the yoga mat being strategically placed Kevin checks it out, puts his lil feet onto it, and confidently strolls down the mat. Once he touched dirt, he hastens away with speed.  RUN Kevin RUN, You are free my friend!

And we were back into bed, furry friend free, by 2:30AM! I will always remember Kevin fondly.

My mom (who I told this story to over the phone) was disappointed I didn’t get a picture of our houseguest, Kevin. But, he looked something like this: