She still needs me...

It isn't easy being a trophy husband.  Oh, sure, I try to keep myself nice for her so she can show me off as arm candy.  I'm OK with that... it's part of the curse of being pretty; I've had to live with that my whole life.

But, today I was able to prove my worth as a man.  No, not a "Fred Garvin, male prostitute" kinda thing.  Fred got paid.  But, as usual, I digress.

A couple days ago, Joan "smelled something funny."  No, it wasn't me.  At least I don't think so.  When she uses that phrase, there isn't anything "funny" about it.  We had it happen a year or so ago when a pudgy field mouse managed to get into our house and got caught in the back of our stove.  Not in the stove, but in the back of it.  It wasn't pretty.  It didn't smell pleasant, either.

Joan was just sure we had "the same smell" here in the motorhome.  She had me "sniff test" my way around the coach.  I always thought I had a good sense of smell, but what I sensed was maybe musty, not... the smell of death.  She was convinced otherwise.

We removed drawers.  Took apart the back of a cabinet where we could access the water heater.  To paraphrase the philosopher Jerry Lee Lewis: a whole lot of sniffin' going on.  We made a trip to Home Depot to get some charcoal deodorizer bags.  When we opened and removed one drawer, it was now clear that "the funny smell" was coming from that area, and decidedly stronger.  Joan took all the drawers out so we could access behind them.  Kinda.  Winnebago puts wood supports athwartship (great word btw) to support that stack of drawers... it also means you can't get your whole body into that compartment.

She was convince that she saw "something."  That's where I get called in.  If you saw the movie Alien, you know what happened to the guy that looked closer.  Yeah, that's my job.  I could kinda see what she was talking about... two flashlights and a set of cheap tongs, and I retrieved some "nesting material."  It was fresh.  It is likely we picked up a critter during our stay at Braunig Lake RV Resort in San Antonio.

The nesting material meant I had to dig further.  With my head in as far as I could go, I could barely make out what looked like a bit of fur... right at the back of the inverter.  Moving some wires, a bit of straining, grunting, and cussing, I could see a tail.  From the look of what little I could see, this mouse met his demise by getting zapped at the back side of the inverter... you really do want to be careful where you put your little mousey feet.  It was enough to do him in, but not fry him to a crackly crunch.  With more reaching and grunting, I was able to extricate almost all the carcass.  Yep, that really stinks.  More reaching, grunting, and some needle nose pliers got the rest of the remains.

Rufus was interested in what we were doing, but we kept him away while I said a few words and interred this hitchhiker in a garbage bag... along with his smell.  A couple Clorox Wipes, more grunting, and that area is clean and fresh smelling.  Joan put some of those charcoal bags around, to aid in any residual smell.

I looked at all the wiring back in that section, and saw no evidence that Mickey had chewed any of that.  There is no more "funny smell" (hey, I showered this morning).  I think we're good, and it was a fresh catch, thanks to Joan's ability to sniff out any "funny" smells.

I did my manly duty.  ;-)