10/02/2026
This mind-numbing and exceptionally dull story begins with the failure of the fuel pump in my wife’s SUV. Naturally, the thing gave out immediately after a fill-up — but I digress. It’s been too hot lately to toil under a black truck parked on asphalt, so I opened the hood (bonnet) and let it sit.
Some of you may be wondering: why open the hood (bonnet) if it’s just going to sit? Well, I’ll tell you. Here in Satan’s Easy Bake Oven, we have a critter called the “wood rat,” commonly known as the “pack rat.” An interesting yet fabulously dull fact about these little monsters: there are eight species in North America, three of which are native to the Southwest desert. Bonus useless trivia: the wood rat is the only rat native to North America.
These little, adorable, fuzzy rats are the bane of my existence. They are extremely destructive, and I hate them with the intensity of a thousand burning suns. I know, you’re thinking, “Get to the point.” I’m getting there, I promise!
These miscreants love to crawl into dark, covered places — like your engine compartment. Once inside, they’ll establish a nest made from insulation, cactus needles, garbage, and worst of all: wires. Not to mention the monumental puddles of urine and piles of excrement. These godless heathens don’t like light and don’t like being exposed to their many predators. So, to make a long story short: THIS is why we leave the hood (bonnet) open.
Among the many critters that inhabit our property is a contingent of “common ground doves.” The common ground dove was not blessed with the brains God gave a sack of hammers. These imbeciles will build their nests anywhere but where any respectable bird should. On the ground? Sure, why not! On top of the trash bin? Absolutely! In the succulent pot right by the front door? That’ll do! How about on top of a big rock in the middle of the yard, completely exposed to predators? Surely, there can’t be a more perfect place!
I have no fewer than ten nests in perplexing locations around the property. The most inconvenient of these is the one pictured. Little Miss Ada Lovelace here decided to build her nest on top of the engine in the aforementioned truck.
In this precariously placed nest, she laid a single egg. Over the last few weeks, she hasn’t left it. Not for high winds, excessive heat, or violent thunderstorms. Through it all, she’s remained motionless and unwavering.
I’ve been checking in on her daily to see how things are progressing. Most nests I’ve observed over the past ten years in this house have rarely produced offspring. They often get raided by lizards, snakes, and those miserable pack rats. Even if an egg hatches, the young bird is still at risk of a quick, violent demise courtesy of the many raptors and owls that frequent the area.
Luckily, we had a break in the heat recently, and my son and I ventured outside to begin the arduous task of removing a full 30-gallon fuel tank (113.5 liters) from the USS Titanic Jr. I figured that if Ada didn’t flinch during the last month of her egg-sitting, she wouldn’t mind if we got to work. I popped in to say hello and lo and behold I see that Ada’s egg has hatched! Oh, happy day!
While I’m thrilled for Ada, I now find myself in a bit of a predicament. Once I install the new fuel pump, I still can’t use the truck. If I move her nest, she’ll abandon it, and the hatchling will surely perish. It could be another two to three months before the little one is ready to leave. Most guys I know would evict Ada and her baby without hesitation — no compassion, no sympathy. But me? I’m an old squishy softy, and I do everything I can to avoid harming an animal.
So, barring any emergencies, Ada and her progeny are safe…from me. Although I do wonder how long she’ll be safe from the great horned owl that’s been hanging around, or the Cooper’s hawk that’s taken up residence in the mesquite tree above the truck.
And that, folks, is the big excitement around here lately. Be still my heart! It’s a dull life I lead — but it’s my dull life, and I love it.
…mostly.
