Rainstorms, Bravery, and Birthdays

It's monsoon season here in Savannah. The storms and the rain are fun at first in a "lying on the couch watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall for the 50th time" kind of way, but I'm not enchanted with our flooded back yard a.k.a. "new mosquito breeding ground", or the fact that I can't seem to keep the floors clean, regardless of how many times I sweep and mop them.

I know a dog named Mitchell Pancake who is tired of the storms as well. As soon as he hears thunder rumbling he is next to me or Matt, refusing to leave our side. It's pitiful, and if I know that the dog is home alone during a storm, I am overcome with guilt.

Yet, as annoying as the rain has been for our little family, I think there are some other creatures that are having a harder time dealing with it.

Like moles. Naked mole rats, to be exact.

The other night, I ventured out into our backyard of danger and death, only to discover an almost-dead baby (at least I think it was a baby; I really don't know how big moles get) mole, lying on its side on our walkway. In case you've never seen a baby naked mole rat, here's a picture I found on the google.

I'm not sure that an uglier creature exists.

Anyway, this baby mole was on its side, slowly moving its arms and opening its mouth, making some low and awful sound. I didn't know what to do, so I waited until Matt got home. By the time Matt got to it, the mole had died. So my brave husband got a plastic bag and disposed of the creature.

And then yesterday when I let Mitchell Pancake out he suspiciously picked something up in his mouth and slinked to the yard. I went to see what it was, and it was ANOTHER almost-dead baby naked mole rat.

And, again, it was doing the creepy movements. (You can check out my impression of an almost-dead baby naked mole rat below.)

In my mole research today, I came across this article about how naked mole rats may possess secrets to longevity. This fun fact comes at a good time; today is Matt's birthday. In lieu of a gift, I've decided to write a poem about him.

I love Matt with my heart and soul / Because he gets rid of dead moles.

Hmmmmm, maybe I should just get him a gift. . .