Sir Squeaky

So there I was, dutifully mowing our farthest back lawn like the lovely daughter that I am. Who do you suppose decided to join me at the steering wheel? Sir Squeaky the evil mouse, that’s who. As always, I was very courageous, and knew that if I remained seated on that tractor with Sir Squeaky, he might jump out and attack the neighbors with his monstrous claws. Thinking quickly, I put the break on, turned off the PTO, and powered the tractor to low, all the while giving Sir Squeaky plenty of space so he wouldn’t decide to harm our neighbors until after I retrieved Pollywog (16). You may be wondering why I, brave woman that I am, would run to the house screaming Pollywog’s name. Well you see, although I am full of courage I am also very sympathetic. Poor Pollywog has been dying to remove a mouse from a tractor for a very long time. Needless to say, Pollywog eagerly came to my (er, I mean, the neighbors) aid, and, chickens in tow, approached the tractor.  Sneaky Sir Squeaky had made his escape. Pollywog, disappointed beyond belief, inspected the tractor and walked away with dragging steps.  I finished mowing our farthest back lawn, leaving the neighbors to deal with Sir Squeaky, after all.