Spindle and the Mole

Today, my dearest and most devoted reader, I went for a walk. Nothing unusual in this I hear you sigh – which I notice has a note of detached indifference to it. The events of today however have caused me much soul searching. An unexpected moment of misguided exuberance on my part has caused me once again, to break out in an unbridled display of verse…yes, I have recounted the incident that has affected me so, in the only way I know how, in poetry.

I scampered through the woodland

The day had promised fun

And there I spied a recumbent mole

Basking in the morning sun

It was bereft of life it seemed

Its future plans negated

So as a mark of houndly respect

I rolled on it, until it deflated

I floated this small offering out on to my twitter account (I am a most technical hound you see) and was astonished and a little humbled by the outcry of concern for the mole. I have never really considered these velvety beasties in any detail before you see.

I would like to take this chance to reiterate that the mole was definitely and quite unmistakably deceased when I chanced upon it on my morning frolic. When I first spotted it, my aim was to simply offer it my condolences – by rolling on the little chap. It was an act of beauty and love. My arrival back home caused a certain amount of distress as I still had a touch of the ‘Au De Mole’ about me.

No thought was spared by I, for the grieving mole family that would at some point no doubt gather by his side to sing happy moley songs to celebrate his life, to be rendered speechless as they discovered the flatter version of…yes, I shall name him, Isaiah, the reason being that after my regrettable administrations, one of his beady eyes was indeed slightly higher than the other. This whole event has triggered existential turmoil deep within my limbs. It is because of much soul searching that I have decided to pen a farewell to dearest Isaiah. I must admit that my knowledge of moles is quite sparse, so I began leafing through some nature guides that were bursting out of the bookshelf. Firstly, some of the nature guides were of an…unexpected nature, I will be having a word about that later with the ‘disreputable duo’. 

As a sidenote, I also saw a photograph of a naked mole rat. Have you ever seen one? If so then there is clearly no need for me to comment. It was a sight that shall stay with me for a long while, let me tell you.

Anyway, after a flick through the information at paw, I believe I have a better understanding of them and have gathered together my thoughts which I have written as a mark of respect. I will personally deliver this missive to his the final resting stain and leave it for him, alongside a small bunch of bluebells that I pinched from the garden and an aggrieved worm.

My Dearest Isaiah

I must offer you, my dear, dear little chap, my most sincere apologies for my disgraceful behaviour this morning. I must admit that the ‘wild hound’ in me emerged without warning, which in my excitement I confused with the notion of affection. This is no excuse of course for my reprehensible behaviour. I do hope that your nearest and dearest weren’t too distressed by your appearance, you probably looked quite different to them, having popped open like an over ripened peach. Please be assured that as you travel to your next moley life, that I will be sending you my best spindly thoughts.


Elsie Esme Weatherwax Webb



This is my best existential face.


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