I am a live-and-let-live kind of guy when it comes to nature’s creatures.
When I see a spider in the house, I try to usher it outside rather than stomp on it. Snakes in our yard or garden have my best wishes. Even the deer who attempt to make a smorgasbord of our vegetables and ﬂowers are urged — with the help of Sydney the Dog — to vacate the premises rather than become venison.
Living in the country, it seems to me, requires one to adopt a sort of cheerful resignation toward animal lifestyles. So when I discovered a mouse living in my car, I didn’t get all uptight. I was a cool cat.
A couple of years ago, my wife was driving her car to work when a mouse scampered across the dashboard. She just about lost it, she said. She stopped the car, rolled down the windows and opened the doors.