Pulling out one of the base cabinets, Rylie and I found a good-sized pile of dog food under there. Probably a half-pound worth. Rylie told me that it was stockpiled by mice.
“No biggie,” I said, “I’ll just put some mousetraps in the garage.”
I looked again, and realized. . . that wasn’t our brand.
We’ve been here almost 18 months. The previous owners were here five years — but they didn’t have a dog. Rylie and I were looking at a seven-year-old stockpile of rat dog food.
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