Dixon Details

Okay seriously?

Yesterday I was in my garage.

The door was shut, and my kids were attempting to get in the car.

Something small and brown

Ran across my foot and hid behind the trash can.

I screamed.

Which, in turn, made Gavin scream.

{My mind raced back to when we lived in Texas.

The rubber on my bike handle bars--gnawed to pieces.

That's when we knew we had something living among us.

I don't really know how we found it,
but my memory recalls my dad wrestling it to the ground.
I doubt that really happened.
But, hey, I was, like, 5.}

Back to present.

I swore it was a rat.

My kids were on the landing.
I was wearing flip flops.
Gag.

Gav pushed the button.
Up went the garage door.

Nothing.

My heart was racing.
My blood was pumping.
My hands were shaking.

And then I found him.

Jack.
I wanted to kick the stupid thing for scaring the crud outta me.

Instead, I grabbed my gardening gloves and moved him to safety.
And noticed a sick amount of bunny poo.

Nasty.

Then.
Today.

Headed out to lessons.
And notice lots.more.poo.

This time, I wasn't scared.
Bring it on, Jack.

And there he was.
Behind my recycle bins.

Now.
Riddle me this . . .

How the heck does he keep getting in my garage?

Picture here.