Saturday, August 13, 2011


While enjoying my leftover cannelloni (delizioso), I take a casual glance over at the pool and see a black, furry animal sunbathing on the top step.

This time I grab my phone and call Farmer G, who says he is on his way.

The animal hears me talking and hides in the skimmer. Bad choice for him!

I keep watch until Farmer G arrives with his Zappa.
Man on a mission....

Nutria taking a break after an invigorating swim

Fishing for nutria...

The fruit he ate was that hairy dude's ultima cena (Last Supper).

Signore Nutria's friends went to Farmer G's house last night for their own ultima cena. They ate two cabbages from the garden before being surrounded by the family dogs after which the petite cognata, Farmer G's spunky sister-in-law, bashed their brains out with her own zappa.

After surveying our own territory, we think that our visitor hid inside our Maginot Line yesterday and found himself staying over for a little pajama party. He forgot to bring his pj's, but left an imprint of where he may have slept.

Maybe he's the one I saw this AM.

He will not be back.
Looks like Farmer G is playing golf... (Not so much)

When I explained U's plausible theory about the pool steps, Farmer G was skeptical because he says that the T's pool has them, as does that of the notaio, but no nutria there.

The animals are working their way toward our other cancello gate, though, so that needs to be fenced, too. I don't want them anywhere near my vegetables!

Wouldn't it be nice if the dead dude were all by himself last night?

Tomorrow will tell.

BTW, there was a piece of one of the skimmers floating in the pool, which Farmer G reattached as best he could. No guarantees that that will hold, so we may need to have the pool expert, the one who never heard of nutria in any of his pools-- check it out.

Stay tuned for the next chapter of "are you smarter than a pack of baby nutria?" (apparently not!)

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