By problem, I'm talking about possums and RATS on the fence at night, neighbors cats disappearing and coyotes being seen on the street. Owls have even nabbed small dogs from yards in the neighborhood like something out of a Sandra Bullock/Ryan Reynolds (yum) movie!! But today takes the CAKE!!! Our sweet-but-not-real-bright lab mix followed - not chased, but FOLLOWED - a mouse into my house!!! Very non-chalantly too I might add!! I was sitting right here,
Uuugh!! All I could think about was that scene from Lady and the Tramp, where the mean, red-eyed rat comes in through the window and tries to attack "tha Bay-Bee!!" And Snacks really was upstairs napping at the time. So I'm more than a little FREAKED OUT! Especially since Lady DOES NOT live at our house. We've apparently got that bloodhound with a bad sniffer What's-His-Name instead - GEEZ!!
I called Speed and explained the situation. Speed laughs (humph!). I conduct a thorough search of the house. No mouse. This whole situation has gotten me so unnerved that I even get out the broom and sweep the whole downstairs!! There's just something about a mouse (in your house!!) that makes you want to clean!! With no sign of the mouse after that ordeal, I had just about convinced myself that I was imagining the whole thing, but . . . .
said mouse made an appearance not long after naptime - AAACK! In the living room!! Walking around like he owned the place. At least it seemed that way at first. So I shooed Snacks back upstairs and ran to the laundry room for something to trap him in. Unfortunately, best I could find were two styrofoam trays from the meat we buy that I routinely wash and save for crafts. Not exactly proper mouse hunting paraphenalia.
Now back to the living room . . . .
He just sat there, watching me, and let me walk right up to him. I hadn't heard of anyone missing a pet mouse around here but this seemed strange. I took a closer look. He looked like he was in pretty bad shape. His fur was wet and matted looking (perhaps he had already been mistaken for a dog toy?) and he seemed awfully worn out. First I tried to scoop him up using both trays like baseball gloves, but he managed to scurry away. Try number two was more successful - I slammed a single tray down over him, trapping him undernerath. He didn't protest. In fact, he didn't even move. I'm telling you, this guy wasn't well. All the more reason to get him OUT of my house!! Not sure what my next move was, I decided to put something heavy (Yes, this lion bop bag will work fine!) on top of the meat tray and call Speed.
More laughter at the update. But I've got questions!! Is he really going to just sit there? (Maybe.) Is he dying on my carpet as we speak??? (Likely.) Is he going to poop or pee on my carpet before he dies because I CANNOT handle that!! All of this seems to be amusing Speed. I am starting to get huffy!!
About this time, Strings (my 20 year old stepson)
I was saving that tray! And that's littering!! I know what you're thinking - either 'She's loopy' 'Beggars can't be choosers' or BOTH! And you're right! But now 'Mr. Whiskers' is probably sailing down the creek in a styrofoam boat . . . and he's probably as relieved as I am. Well, good luck Mr. Whiskers. It was nothing personal. And I do believe that God loves 'all creatures great and small,' so we should too. But some I prefer to love from a distance!! Just sayin' . . .