One fine spring day, while working on the chicken coop, my husband grabbed me to show me the mouse nest he’d found.  Several little naked babies, snuggled down in a nest made of bits of straw and chicken feathers.  The mama had ran out as soon as hubby discovered the nest. 

As you might guess, mice are not considered friends around here.  But what do you do with a nest of babies?!  I’d read before that chickens eat mice and; gulp, decided that was how I’d handle the situation.  Though hard to stomach, it seemed a better solution than killing them myself. 

Alas, the children were close by and we try not to shy away from life and death education.  With barn cats and chickens, they’ve experienced it a few times already.  I don’t really know what got into me by deciding to show them this particular situation.   Maybe I thought it would be just another experience to add to their repertoire but what I didn’t expect was for the middle child to jump in and grab all the little mice she could find.  And she wouldn’t let me have them back.  Refused.  Completely.

Think, mom, think.  So as not to further traumatize her, I reluctantly helped her haul the little baby mice to the house. And I ended up helping my daughter feed every little mouse.  They need to be fed every couple of hours and need their tiny tummies rubbed with a warm wet cotton ball so they can go to the bathroom.  Yikes.  I knew the time schedule wasn’t going to happen, but I figured we’d just do our best. 

The mice did live for several days but eventually met their demise.  I don’t know what went wrong, but know that we’ll never take on this experiment again!

♥