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Home » Blog » Stories » The Creatures Were Stirring
val holding bottle and knife - propane and bourbon

The Creatures Were Stirring

It was the middle of August, 
And all through the night,
What was stirring?
Why it was the mice.

Out of the stovetop, 
They would pop their heads,
To check and see,
If we’d gone to bed.

Intent on marauding,
Our food and snacks, 
I set to deter them,
With a swift whack.

Whiskey bottle in one hand,
And a knife in the other,
Alas I’m too slow,
To dispatch the buggers.

Retiring to bed, 
My love would leave me with kisses,
"Please don’t destroy the trailer, 
Xena, Warrior Princess."

Night after night, 
We played this game.
And every night,
It ended the same.

My journey to bed, 
Was fraught with worry.
All I could hear, 
Was the sound of their scurry.

Until one night, 
I heard the telltale snap,
At long last we had one
Caught in a trap!

They’d taken the bait,
And met their match.
Ten bodies in total, 
Was the final catch.

And through it all, 
The hound slept on his mat.
How I wished our adventure dog,
Was an adventure cat.

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Written by:
Val Weston
Published on:
August 19, 2020
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Propane and Bourbon

An adventure blog, by
Val Weston and J. Brandon

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