Wednesday night, I went into Hick's basement workshop to do some business in one of our three safes. It was after midnight. Hick had long been in bed. I'm in the workshop at least once a week. Mainly for the safe, sometimes for the color printer. This night, I was distracted by the sound of crickets gone wild.
I knew Hick had been in and out of the workshop that day. I'd heard the big metal door that exits to the Poolio area. He'd been staining the deck, using his tiny artiste's brush. I made a mental note to chastise Hick for obviously letting in some crickets.
On my way out, I detected an unpleasant odor. SHOO! That was nasty! What in the world? It stunk like pee! I know I haven't been peeing in Hick's workshop. I'm 99 percent sure HICK hasn't been peeing in his workshop. That's it. Nobody else in there. The pets are all outside pets. Oh, no! I guess it was RAT PEE! Surely not. We've never had a rat. But we do get cute little big-eared field mice every couple of years, as the weather turns colder. Which it hasn't. We hit 94 degrees yesterday! But those little critters aren't here long enough to cause a stink with pee and poop. They're not wary of the old-fashioned wooden mousetraps.
Well, that's just great. Hick has been planning a trip, and now he would be leaving me with a peeing critter in the basement! What if I caught the hantavirus while Hick was away?
Yesterday, Hick was up and down the basement steps, getting the camper title, and delving into his Storage Unit Store riches for his trip. Of course, he seemed to forget every time, that I had asked him to carry down a six-pack of Diet Coke on his next descent. So I hollered down to remind him. And as an afterthought, tacked on the pee situation.
"Hey! I was in the workshop last night, and when I walked by the color printer, I smelled mouse pee! It didn't smell like that last week. Or the last time I was at the color printer, getting your pumpkin sign for Trunk or Treat. So I guess we have a mouse infestation! What am I supposed to do about THAT?"
"Oh. I know what it is. I was meaning to throw that away. Let me go get it."
Hick disappeared from view. I heard the workshop door. He came back to the steps, carrying a clear plastic circular piece of packaging that had once held a pool floatie.
"I put it in the basement, because I didn't want Jack to get it and chew it up. That darn cat peed all over it."
"Oh. I thought it smelled like cat pee, but I knew that wasn't possible. The cats stay outside."
"I'll take it out to the dumpster."
Whew! Can you imagine the smell in the dumpster when the trash guys open it up on Wednesday? After it baking in the 94 degree heat, and humidity almost as high?
Only Hick would bring an object soaked with cat pee INTO the house. He was probably waving it like a drum major's stick, while leading his parade of ONE, marching to his own drummer.