I jumped into the car yesterday for the monthly trek to town to refill the pantry and pooo-eee, the mice have been nesting in the air conditioning duct again: 40°outside, 30° inside and the pongy waft of “eau de rodent”. But that reminded me of a story…
Several summers ago Mum came to visit at Rocky Springs and we decided to engage in some girlie retail therapy in the big smoke, three hour’s drive away. We left early, trying to ignore that persistent mousy smell about the car. We stopped at a friend’s place on the way and she commented, “Dead mouse?”
“Yeah, I reckon” I replied, “but at least the smell isn’t coming inside the car”.
Later Mum and I stopped for petrol, got out, looked at each other and Mum said “that smell is getting worse”.
Never mind, there was shopping to do. Being a typical scorching summer’s day we left the car in the underground car-park and off we went. Six hours later, with lighter wallets but encumbered credit cards, it was time to go home. Mum and I headed to the car-park, walked through the sliding glass doors and stopped in our tracks. We couldn’t see the car but we could sure smell it.
We waited until no-one was around to associate us with the dreadful stench and then we made a bolt for the vehicle. “There’s no way I’m opening the bonnet now” I said, “but I’m pretty sure that’s not a mouse under there”.
We drove home without pause and told Brian to deal with it……. and this is what six feet of slow-engine-roasted brown snake looks like:
The snake had gone into the lining of the bonnet (probably after a mouse), got stuck and I had cooked it all day.
So who’s coming to visit?