So we're all set to start dinner, which was to be grilled. Our first "cook out" of the year...propane filled, tuna purchased, wine chilled and off we go. Except. I pulled off the grill cover, first noticing how worn it has become after four years of constant exposure to the elements. Maybe time for a new one, I think. Lift up the cover, reach for the nob and...look square in the face of a mouse, who - truth be told - was a little surprised to see me.


Cute, but not what you're looking for in a grill. So I stand there for a moment, tuna on a platter in one hand, long metal spatula in the other, pondering my next move. I see a little fuzzy nest in one corner, wedged between the shell and the burner plates. Clearly, the mouse has been in residence for some time.


What to do, what to do. O.K. Letting the mouse know that it has exactly 30 minutes to get moving before I remove its nest and crank up the heat to begin the cleaning process, I leave the lid up and head back inside. The tuna is broiled for 10 minutes on one side, 5 on the other. Delicious with pearl couscous cooked in chicken broth and steamed broccoli.


When we return outside the mouse is gone. No doubt it will return at some point soon. Unfortunately it will find the grill no longer a hospitable environment. The plates and grate have been heated, cooled and moved indoors for a swim in the dishwasher and the entire shell will be hosed off before reassembly and I will not be able to guarantee future rodent guests the same level of service and accommodation enjoyed by our winter lodger.


There is a part of me that feels somewhat guilty about the eviction. It is, however, not the part of me that enjoys grilled tuna. That part is really o.k. with the whole thing.