One evening, relaxing in Ozzie’s main living space, Husband barks at me, ‘Shh! Do you hear that sound?’
I listen closely. I wait. And then I hear it. The faintest of sounds, but distinctively present: tiny scratches coming from the back of Ozzie.
Husband sneaks quietly to the back of the house to the door that separates the old Ozzie from the new. He waits. He jerks the door open, scrambles back in fright, and bellows… Continue reading “Rat-a-touille”