My dogs Kole and Katie and the bridge. Photo by PR Mace

Last spring while cleaning our side patio I made a request of my husband. We have trees around our patio and a small area from the patio to the yard where no grass will grow. I asked for a path from the patio to the yard and my clothesline.

Later that week while shopping at Big Lots for a new patio swing, I found my perfect path. It was a small wooden bridge and on sale. My husband also liked it, so the small wooden bridge found a place in our home.

The bridge made a perfect path from the patio out to the clothesline. No more dirty shoes to track sand into my clean house. It was a lovely sight and our granddaughters found joyful adventures as they ran across it. All was as it should be, until the noises started.

We have had quite a bit of rain, as of late, a welcome relief from our heat wave. Early last week our dogs Kole and Katie began to dig under the bridge. While standing beside them on a damp Tuesday, I could hear strange sounds from under my bridge. It is easily lifted up and with courage I did this. I found a family of toads had made a home. They hopped away with my canine family members close behind. Well problem solved, I thought, no more digging or noises under the bridge. Was I ever wrong!

Thursday was a rare extra day off for me and rather then stay home alone while my husband worked, (he works twelve hour night shifts) I took an extra ballroom dance lesson and stayed for the weekly practice party. I wanted to work on my timing and brush up on my rumba and waltz. It was a perfect night, until I came home.

The party ended a bit early and I arrived back home around 2145. I let our dogs out to attend to their business while I called my husband to let him know I was home. Kole and Katie rushed to the bridge and began to frantically dig. Lifting the bridge to run Mr. Toad and his family back to the garden, I found a monster. A huge rat lay in wait.

In a panic I dropped the bridge and ran while the rat with the dogs in pursuit closed in on me. I screamed and headed for the laundry room door while the rat parade rushed by. The chase continued around the patio swing into my garden and finally ended with the rat on the fence heading for the woods with the hounds of hell tearing up the ground.

My poor neighbors trying to sleep next door, what must they have thought, well who knows as they didn’t come over to see if I was okay. I mean, I was screaming.

Is there a reason for this story or a moral to this tale? Of course there is.

If it is late at night and your husband is not home. Don’t look under any bridges; you never know what type of monster is waiting for you. Oh, and don’t run in high heels on a wet patio, it’s not good for your health.  

My dog Katie : One of the Hounds of Hell. Photo by PR Mace

My dog Kole resting on the famous rat bridge : The other Hound of Hell. Photo by PR Mace