Moles

Ok... I'm going to start out by plain flat out admitting that I have no real love for moles.

They are pesky creatures who dig all over the yard and leave mounds of dirt in the lawn. 

I don't hate the things, and I suppose they serve some sort of purpose in the great scheme of the universe, but overall I'm generally pretty indifferent to the trials and tribulations of their existence, and I would generally prefer not having them around.

Of course, my general indifference is probably hinges on the fact that I've never really been confronted with one.  It is, after all, difficult to empathise with something when you have no idea what it even looks like. And I'm OK with that.

And I would have been perfectly happy in my bubble of indifference for quite some time, if this danged dog hadn't
stuck a pin in it. 

This morning, I opened the front door and almost stepped on the carcass of someone's hunting expedition. 

"Shadow!  Why the hell did you leave this dead... this dead... uh... this... what the hell is that?"

Well, as you've probably guessed, it was a mole.  Don't panic, I'm not gonna post any pictures.  I'm going to confine myself to a description.  If you can imagine a snub nosed rat, with no tail and extremely short hair, who squints.   You've pretty much got it.  

Not the best description I  know, but I'm still not posting a picture. 

Not that I haven't had the opportunity to take a snap shot.  You see, Shadow, the cocker spaniel in question, had discovered he possesses a new skill, and is exercising his talents with a diligence that is almost admirable.  I can't blame him... it's not like he has any other skills, I mean he's not neglecting his needlework or anything. 

So far I have been presented with four of these deceased critters.  Before noon.  I'm almost afraid to go out and fetch the mail.