Noises in the Attic

Last week, early in the morning, there were loud noises coming from our attic crawl space. Clearly a possum or a raccoon was taking up residence, as we could easily hear him moving in his new furniture. Our new tenant was audible again one afternoon as the children and I were sitting on the couch reading together after lunch.

Toa of Boy looked up at the ceiling and asked what the noises were coming from.

I answered him honestly, and told him that a possum or a raccoon or something had gotten into the attic.

"It could be a rabbit," he said.

"No," I replied. "A rabbit couldn't climb up onto the garage roof to get into the attic."

"Rabbits can jump," he said.

"Not that high," I said.

"Could it be a skunk?" he asked.

"No, skunks can't climb either."

He didn't say anything else, and I went back to reading our story.

"Mommy," he asked, "what happened to Sheeba?" (Our dog who passed away a few years before Toa of Boy came home with us. Toa has seen pictures of her with a toddler Sweetling.)

"She died," states Sweetling, rather bluntly. Sweetling can only tolerate just so many interruptions.

I tried to resume the story.

"No," persisted Toa. "I mean what happened to Sheeba's body?"

After a moment of reflection, I pieced together what Toa's train of thought must be. "There is not," I stated, "a zombie dog in our attic."

This response seemed to satisfy Toa and we got back to reading our story, despite the occasional noise from the attic.