Oh Res. Res Res Res. It’s nice to see you, boy. It’s nice to hear you hooting at us, nice to find you perched up there in that tree, just high enough that we can’t make out your bands. But you’re not going to mouse for us are you? You, who, from what I hear, are an excellent mouser. But not tonight. No. You look cold and wet and miserable up there, trying to stay out of the rain. We understand. We too are cold and wet, but we came here for you. And it’s nice to see you. But I know you’re not going to mouse for us.
We will wait for you a little longer. But we can’t leave the mouse out, I’m afraid. You don’t care about it anyway, and it’s too cold and wet for such a little mouse to hang out in. We will return him to his warm group of friends, and we will be content to watch. We will watch you, hope that you move, at least, so we can get a re-sight on you. But that won’t happen either, because there you go. You moved after all, but not to a lower location, no. You’re gone instead. We don’t know where you are. Maybe you’re close, and quiet finally. Or maybe you have gone, off in search of a dryer tree. Because this rain isn’t going to let up anytime soon. It’s not too heavy, but it’s here to stay. Perhaps we should follow your example, and head off to a dryer place.
Goodnight Res. Hopefully the rain will blow off at some point this week. Perhaps we will see you again. In the mean time, try to stay dry.
