A couple of days ago Coolister asked me to come see something.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Just come see," was his reply.
So I followed him down the stairs as he informed me, "I think there is a mouse in our dryer."
I stopped. I am not a big fan of mice. Sure, they look all cute and tiny and they're awesome helpers if you're Cinderella or Gizelle, but those little rodents also occasionally jump onto people who are just trying to help them get out of the house without killing them off (I know this from personal experience).
As we approached the dryer I could hear the scritch-scratch noise of little mouse claws trying to work their way out of somewhere. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as the heebie-jeebies made their way up my spine. Coolister cracked open the dryer and looked inside but no beady little black mouse eyes peered back at us. I sang the beginning refrain of Gizelle's "Happy Working Song" but no little critter responded. It was not in the dryer.
The noise came again, scritchity-scratch... from the dryer ventilation tubing. It was trapped in there and couldn't get out.
Since we didn't want to cook the little rodent and have roasted mouse stench in the dryer, we had to help it escape.
Coolister and I devised a plan. First, remove the dryer vent, then turn the end of it over into a large container, allow our little mouse intruder to fall into the container, put a lid on and take the container outside to set the mouse free.
Once it got to the part where we were supposed to remove the vent, I got squeamish. I could just imagine the disease-carrying rodent jumping out, landing on my arm and running up my sleeve. I let Allen and Coolister take over while I took pictures. It wouldn't jump out! They shook the dryer vent, encouraging it to escape. Finally, it landed in the big, blue jug.
"It's a bird!" Coolister exclaimed, pulling the lid over the container's opening.
I like birds. A lot, actually. My heebie-jeebies went away as we walked outside to free our feathered friend.
We pulled the lid off the top of the jug but he wouldn't fly away. He just sat there, bewildered.
Finally Allen tipped the jug onto its side and our temporary visitor found freedom.
I couldn't help but remember another visit we had from a bird a couple of years ago. I wondered what lesson I was supposed to learn this time around.
I decided it was this:
Sometimes we get ourselves in predicaments that we can't get out of on our own. At times like this we need to rely on others to help us... and that's okay. It's not always easy to accept help from others but sometimes it is necessary.
We just need to realize that we can't make it through life's journey alone.
And that is why God gave us friends.