Let me tell you something about the newest critter on our farm.
No, this isn’t the magnificent, golden-tailed hawk that comes to sit on the black wooden fences separating two of our paddocks, more or less watching the horses eat their fill.
This isn’t about the smudge-sized black field mice I saw scurrying under the leaves of the decaying melon patch as I was turning over the garden for fall – one of whom, I must confess, met an untimely interface when he was unearthed by the blades of my tiller, God rest his little vermin soul.