In the aftermath of last weekend's party for my mom's retirement, some areas are more tidy than others. I hadn't realized that some of the food trash ended up in the waste can on the sunporch. I was out dredging through my tool bucket looking for a narrow hand shovel to transplant some salvia for the front porch (bought at bargain prices at the nursery's open house on Sunday.)
I paused for a moment because something else was making noise on the porch... as sort of shuffling, plastic noise. I looked to the door way to find the cats were still in the house, then went looking. Sure enough, in the trash, still abundantly loaded with food, was a very scared looking vole. Unlike mice, which can jump like gangbusters, this guy could only jump a bit up toward the lip of the can. Who knows how long he's been in there.
And I think he came into the house because he'd been injured. In the pictures you can see where something's done a number on his fur.
I scared him half to death taking pictures, then let him loose out by the compost pile. This may mean that he will be a recurring visitor. We will see.
Poor little guy.