Mole

I'd like to think that I had an adventurous childhood. I was fortunate to grow up at the base of a large hill which rose upwards towards additional subdivisions. My siblings and I simply called this glorious playground "the hill." There were plenty of summer days spent exploring the hill, building forts on the hill, and digging holes in the hill. No two days were ever the same. Occasionally we would find squirrels, snakes, scorpions, spiders, or interesting bugs, however on one unique day, I found myself in a position to catch a mole.

Mole (noun): any of various small insectivorous mammals, esp. of the family Talpidae, living chiefly underground, and having velvety fur, very small eyes, and strong forefeet.

While digging in a territory I had claimed as land for myself, I heard a rustling in some nearby leaves. Curious as to what creature was invading my new land, I quickly investigated. Because creatures were never too far away on "the hill" it was customary procedure to have some sort of bucket with which to contain the prisoner.

I approached the moving leaves with my bucket in hand and quickly slammed the bucket above the moving leaves. This method is effective for a successful initial capture, however it does create problems for rotating the bucket upwards with your prisoner inside. So I did the only thing I could think of at the time. In one quick motion I turned the bucket onto its side, and used my free hand as a broom to swish all of the contents into the bucket. Once done I quickly turned the bucket upright.

It was immediately evident that I was successful in capturing the creature as I could hear it moving in the bottom of the bucket. While trying to decipher what it was I had indeed caught I notice the blood beginning to run down my finger.

I had caught a mole, but in his defense against my swooshing motion he had bitten my finger. I however had caught a mole. I was the victor, and I had to share the joy of my capture with my mother. She was at first, so proud of my capture, but on learning that I had been bitten, she did the motherly thing and called animal control. I don't remember the exact conversation between them, but I believe it went something like this:

Animal Control: Animal Control. How may we help you.

Mom: Um, Well my son has caught a mole and it bit him. What should I do?

Animal Control: Your son caught what?!

Mom: He caught a mole and it bit him on his finger.

Animal Control: We have never had anyone catch a mole before. Did it attack him?

Mom: No, he was just playing outside and caught it.

Animal Control: Wow. Well, I don't know what to tell you other than keep an eye on him and if he seems to be feeling OK then I probably wouldn't worry about it.

Mom:Um, OK. Thank you.

Not sure what to feed a mole, or how to take care of it, he was released back into the wild. The day ended with a bandaide on my wound and a great story to tell my friends at school.