You could say I bagged my first wild animal.

We had time to kill between our final prep of the building where commencement was held on Sunday morning and moving tables and chairs back into the dining hall after the reception the night before, so I roamed around campus, pulling weeds and emptying trash cans.

One of the cans outside the dorm was full, so I tied up the bag and put it into the back of my utility vehicle. I had just taken a few steps away when I heard and saw the bag move. It wasn't just settling because of gravity; it was shaking violently. After letting out an exclamation that probably wasn't the best thing to say outside a dorm of a Christian, boys' school at 7 a.m. on a Sunday, I figured that I must have trapped an animal inside the bag. I then debated how best to untie or tear a hole in the bag without getting my fingers bitten, but, after a third spasm, a squirrel emerged from the bag, leapt off the cart, and scrambled for the nearest tree.

After that, pulling the weedy vine that would not end (no, not kudzu) off the shrubs and trees was relaxing.