Muskrat Love

While watching our ducks swimming in the pond the other day, Carter, my little nature guru, spotted an unidentified swimming object. He summoned me to the dock to have a look. By the time I got there, he had determined that it was a little muskrat. Together we watched it swim across the pond and come out on the bank opposite us. We decided to get a closer look, though Carter had to warn me.

"Watch out for the smell, Mom."
"Smell?"
"Yes, that's how they got their name."
"Oh."

This is how most of my conversations go with Carter. Sometimes he points out things, like this with the muskrat, that seem so obvious once he mentions them. Other times his observations are more subtle, though no less able to make me feel dumb as a post. Just yesterday, I was very excited to discover a belted kingfisher flying back and forth above the pond. I shared this with Carter, who immediately began referring to it as "she". It didn't really sink in at the time he said it. But later, when I went to look it up for my bird of the day picture, I discovered that females have a smudge of reddish brown on their breasts which males do not have. So, when Carter called it "she," he was quite correct. As he usually is.

Anyway, our little muskrat didn't let us get very close. He swam away and dove under the water. I would love to have gotten a picture of him, but no luck. Here's a cute one that I found online, though:



We've seen him two other times, so perhaps he will become a permanent resident. Carter informs me muskrats are related to lemmings, not rats, which makes them infinitely more appealing to me. As for the smell, well, I never got close enough to vouch for that one. I'm just going to take Carter's word for it.