Jon and I got in from a meeting tonight and settled in at our respective computers. As we’re talking Jon suddenly holds up a hand and says “What IS that? Do you hear it?” I listened and heard a rustling behind my desk. I laughed and JOKINGLY said”Oh we must have a mouse!” He reached over and pulled the file box out from under my desk to reveal some paper back there. His cat, sensing our interest, stuck his face around the side…and promptly tried to pounce. Suddenly there was something on the paper…something large and brown…
I didn’t sit around to notice details. I simply squealed, flung my chair backwards (on rollers thank goodness) and jerked both feet off the floor. Sometime in the next 30 seconds I managed to move from my chair to the dining room table across the room…without touching the floor. Once I was safely tucked into a dining room chair, Jon laughingly announced “Oh it IS a mouse!”
Yeah. Hi-larious.
With the help of his cat he captured it in a tupperware container. Then with the encouragement of my 11 year old he poked holes in the top. The cats were most intrigued.
Well Kitten was. Phoebe got bored as soon as she realized she couldn’t get to it.
Kitten however bounced and pawed and mewled and scratched.
The poor mouse ran and jumped and ran some more….and then his heart exploded.
At least that’s my theory. He flopped over and started twitching. And I left the room.
See I didn’t want him running up my leg. Nor did I want his disease ridden self making himself at home in MY home. But I didn’t particularly want to watch him die. Or even know the manner of his demise.
Now Kitten is determined he’s going to find another toy behind my desk and he’s going to drive.me.insane. He might just find my foot up his tail if he shoves his head under my legs again.
*Title courtesy of Jon who’s walked around saying that after…disposing…of our visitor.
