The Taming of the Shrew

Recently I have had several interactions with a shrew, not the metaphorical kind, but a real shrew.

I had been hearing something scurrying around the tent at night and scratching or gnawing at the tent floor and walls. I suspected a rat or mouse. I woke up in the middle of the night a few days ago and saw something with a tail moving around. The next night Michael set the traps. I heard them both go thwack in the night, and in the morning Acacia was ready and willing to examine the traps. One was empty with some footprints in the peanut butter. The other had trapped and killed what I would have called a rat by the description. Acacia, our resident animal expert, promptly informed me that it was not a rat but a shrew!

So I must admit that the only thing I knew about shrews before yesterday was thanks to Shakespeare. Even now I still say it looks like a rat from the pictures (I refused to look at the dead shrew). I am glad to have the scratching, gnawing, and general noisiness gone, but I would have been just as happy if the shrew had willingly relocated.