We awoke this morning to a huge crash from the kitchen. Based on the ensuing wreckage, Rob guessed that at least one of the useless cats had gone after our resident mouse, too bad they trashed the kitchen doing it. No sign of a corpse, but I knew it would show up eventually.
I noticed throughout the day that one of the cats was very interested in the playroom, so I figured the mouse was probably still in the land of the living and would show it's face sooner or later, and promptly forgot all about it. I do tend to be a bit blase about having a mouse in the house.
So here I am this evening, sitting at the computer, minding my own business and working on a different post for tomorrow, when Lindsay comes rocketing down the stairs screaming incoherently. It turns out the cat has finally found the mouse. By this time, Sid and Grady are in on the act too, Sid screaming like her sister and Grady along for the ride. The dog doesn't have a clue what is going on but decides to join the fray anyway and starts barking furiously. It's a flippin' three ring circus.
By the time I get to the playroom, the cat has tired of the game, and the mouse has disappeared. So I start hunting, which is pretty much like the proverbial needle in the haystack, all the while muttering ominous threats. Lindsay and Sid are perched on a chair, clutching each other in fright. Grady has armed himself with a foam sword and is ready to do battle. I see a small brown blur streak across the room and the chase is on. Ten minutes of climbing over, crawling under and moving around furniture, and I have had enough. Frustrated, I do what any good parent does in this situation, and start yelling at the kids. "Look at this bloody mess!! If you didn't have so many toys around, I could have caught the mouse by now" That's not strictly true, because the little bugger was really fast, but I wasn't going to tell them that.
I have caught many mice, and I learned early on that you do not scoop them in your hand, because, although that is the easiest way, that is also when they sink their little rabid teeth into the fleshy part of your thumb. The safest way to catch a mouse is by the tail. The trouble is they have really skinny tails, and they are especially hard to grab hold of. This one was no exception. You can't say I don't provide education along with the entertainment.
I instruct the kids to keep a look out for the mouse and to call me if they see it, and go back to my blog. Sure enough five minutes later there is another shriek from upstairs, and back I go. This time Grady has the mouse cornered, and the girls are back up on the chair. I pounce and miss. The mouse darts under the couch. I up-end the couch and it darts under the bookshelf. I am really getting tired of this. I move the bookshelf and a whole pile of books hit the ground. "Way to go mum, now you've killed it" Grady yells. Lindsay starts screaming again, and while I don't register Sid's reaction at first, it's only later I realise that her comment was "Oh F***". I really have to do something about that girl's language. I move the pile of books, they must have missed the mouse because there was no flattened carcass. I know when to admit defeat, the room looks like the aftermath of an earthquake, and I'm pretty sure I buggered up my back when I moved either bookcase or the couch.
Rob is home by this time, and having a good laugh at my expense. The next thing I know, the kids are yelling that they have found the mouse again, I expect my husband to step in at this point, but no he defers to me. My hero ! The mouse meanwhile is staying very still, maybe he did get thumped on the head by the avalanche of books. I was able to grab him by the tail, and he offered no resistance. Unfortunately I promptly dropped him, so if he wasn't stunned before, he was now. I grab him again, and make my way to the back door. I just have one more thing to do and that is advance on my daughters waving the mouse menacingly in their faces. The resulting screams were well worth it, and the mouse is booted out the door.
Rob did warn me, that if I posted every day I would soon run out of things to write about, but I think in this house that is never going to happen.
PS: Sitting down for a quiet evening of telly, we notice that another of the cats is very interested in the fireplace. Lo & behold she pounces, and she has another frigging mouse. Just my luck, Lindsay starts screaming and Grady chases the cat upstairs and straight under our bed. Brilliant ! Only two possible outcomes, the mouse escapes and goes to ground in our bedroom or the cat kills it and leaves it somewhere under our bed. I can't wait to see how this one plays out.
PPS: Rob goes up to bed, only to come straight back down, he's located the mouse in the corner of the bedroom - alive and well and wants me to catch it. Bloody marvelous, two in one night, I'm really on a roll. Mind you, I have the capture fine tuned now, and it doesn't take long to boot mouse #2 out the door. Where upon my husband - get this - complains that I didn't go far enough down the garden to ditch the mouse. It's February in Canada for god's sake and I'm in my PJ's and he expects me to go on a friggin' trek to dispose of a mouse. He'll be lucky if he doesn't wake up and find a mouse head on his pillow tomorrow morning. Can life get any better than this ?
Stay tuned.
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