Happy the gerbil was running around in his exercise ball tonight, when she hopped from the tile to the slightly lower wood floor in the living room, and the lid popped off his ball.
Before we knew it, Happy was on the move, exploring the living room. I got down on my knees and tried to catch him, but of course he was too quick for me. So I got some food and put it out, and he ignored it, and started checking out under the couch, over by my chair, and so on.
So then I tried putting some food in my hand and waited, and while he came and sniffed around my hand a bit, he didn’t climb onto it, so I wasn’t really able to snag him.
Finally, I had a brainstorm. We just got Happy a new, larger cage the other day, and the old one (also glass) hasn’t been put away yet, so I had Sarah go get that while I kept an eye on Happy.
She brought it to me, still empty, and I set it down on its side on the floor, then placed inside it Happy’s food dish with a little food in it. Then we waited.
It only took a minute or so for Happy to notice it, sniff around a bit, then crawl inside. A quick tipping up, and Happy was recaptured and transferred back into his new cage.
Watching Happy explore the world while dodging my attempts to grab him was actually sort of fun. But in reflection, it also makes me think about how tricky it can be to document moving targets like the open Web. Stuff changes, and it changes fast — sometimes so fast you can’t keep up. Seems like every time you reach out to start writing about something, it either changes or gets made obsolete by something newer, better, or faster.
But, just like trying to catch a runaway rodent, documenting the open web is a lot of fun, in a strange, giddy sort of way.