No Mercy for Muffin Thieves!

Although I am not excited about it, I can tolerate an occasional bush baby jumping on my face in the middle of the night. This, in our judicial system, is only a mild misdemeanor, worthy of a verbal warning and if caught alive, an eviction (probably to be released somewhere near Larry’s house). Now, had he nibbled on my nose, gotten caught under the covers or bothered my sleeping baby, a more harsh judgment would have been in order; but as it was, we were content to cohabitate with the cute (ie. “key-you-t”) little guy as long as he shaped up his behavior.

 

Well, clearly such mercy was not appreciated, for less than a week later, we saw evidence of his midnight raid of our pantry, which, being full of dry ingredients, is a downright smorgasbord buffet for the likes of him. Well, as the manager of this buffet restaurant, I meticulously surveyed the shelves to see where this freeloading client had chosen to indulge. Evidence of nibbling revealed that he went straight for the main course: a backpacking meal of just-add-water “potatoes, beef & gravy.” No big deal, especially since this was left over from a family Boundary Waters trip in 2007. After just tasting this dish, he must have then ordered a dinner roll as I saw a small hole in our barley flour. I continued to scan, flour, corn meal, seeds, nuts…all untouched…and then, I saw it! You see, not unlike myself as a youngster, this little guy had obviously nibbled away at the real food before diving headfirst into the dessert section.  For there, at the very end of the food-filled shelf was the package of Betty Crocker Blueberry Muffin mix that Andrea’s parents had brought us as a special treat from the States. “This guy has a death wish!” I exclaimed to Andrea as I surveyed the hole and the significant cavity left behind. In reality, he hadn’t eaten more than a half a muffin’s worth, but still, even one tiny paw-full of this treasure would have warranted a capital case against the suspect. Without wasting anytime, I went to serve the warrant and bring justice.

 

After searching the rest of the pantry, I went up into the “attic” where I checked every crack and crevice. “Ah hah!” Under a board, I disturbed the convict who was sleeping off the previous night’s muffin mix binge. I set up a makeshift “trap” using a cardboard box and wire screening so there was nowhere to run but into my box, I tried to scare him out of his hiding place right up against the rafter. But he knew better…or so he thought. I pounded the board with a hammer, I tried to prod him with wire, and then began moving the board over him up and down, until one time I heard a few squeaks, followed by several cracking sounds and then…silence. I cautiously lifted the board to see that he had attempted a suicide escape route only to be crushed under the board I was standing on. “Poor fella,” I thought at first, before remembering that his belly probably still encased the stolen Betty Crocker. “Justice served,” I rethought as it loudly set a precedent for other rodent tenants who might choose to move in. That precedent being: “NO Mercy for Muffin Thieves.” Don’t worry, the executed did receive a proper burial – in the outdoor latrine.