My summer vacation

This is related only tangentially to having a pregnant wife, but it's about babies, so deal.

We have an outdoor fenced-in area for our dogs. I'd say dog-run, but that conjures the image of a cable between two trees and the dog tied to it, rabid and unloved, charging back and forth desperate for something to kill.

In the middle of our dog area is a small tree, and at the base of the tree is a nest of baby mice.

A nest of baby mice!

Tulip found it. I was like, what on earth are you so interested in over there? I shoved my hand into a poop bag--empty, people, empty!--and swished my now webbed fingers through the grass, expecting to find a dead junebug or something. And the ground moved.

I gasped in an extremely manly way, then retreated to the house for something to more effectively poke whatever it was.

I went back outside with an untwisted wire coat hanger--doubled back on itself on one end, so it wasn't sharp, sheesh. What do you think I am, Timmy the neighborhood animal torturer?

With the apparatus I was able to expose the nest enough to see the vermin inside. I think they were having sex, which is wrong in so many ways.

Julie was firm on not killing them. That's a pregnant woman for you: all babies are precious and special, even the ones who will invade your house this winter.

(I did not just compare our unborn to a mouse, even though ours will also invade our house this winter.)

So I called Wildlife Management Services this morning, expecting warm congratulations and possibly an award from PETA. Instead, I got Frank.

"You should leave it alone."

"That's fine and all, but my dogs most definitely will not leave it alone."

"Then the problem is your dogs, not the mice."

Women everywhere, someone, please, I beg you. Go out with Frank. I'll buy.

The solution finally presented itself in some spare temporary fencing I had in the garage. Now the babies have a nice mouse-run in the dog-run.

Tulip showed her displeasure by refusing to defecate in the vicinity, opting instead for the stone path adjacent to the house. And Daisy won't go at all.