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Before Covid, there was Fred the mouse. And after Covid, if such a world exists, Fred the mouse will remain. Though I have never personally met Fred, his presence was made known to me in September of 2016 during the annual EIC match held at Solon Sportsmen’s Club.
Organized pit buckets, supplies readily available – everything present and accounted for needed to reface and score targets. I just didn’t count on anything extra. Droppings, scattered across the floor, scattered all over each shelf and across the tops of the buckets (which also served as a scoring disk) laden with stickers, chalk, golf tees, and smaller scoring disks.
I get it. Mice live outside. They get into things. They make a mess.
Such a display as in the pit shed, I had never seen, or care to again. At first glance, one can miss it. Some ignore it, some don’t care. I do not care for it – at all.
“What?”
“Fred the mouse.” This time it was very clear.
“You named it?!”
“Everything’s Fred.” Tim declared.