Thursday, February 11, 2010


We have a new, uninvited, member of the household:  a mouse.  We have had mice residing in the garage for a while now, and hubby has been trying his darndest to get the little nasties out of there.  Apparently, this morning, one took him up on his offer, and decided to move inside.
I know exactly when he actually broke through the high security barrier of insulation the builder provided.  My youngest daughter shrieked to the point that the poor little beastie was momentarily stunned.  He eventually regained his composure and continued his mad dash to the food pantry.  At which point, Tigger, our attack cat, pounced.
Of course, Tigger thinks this is all a game.  So he caught the little guy, then let him go so he could do it again.  That was all the warning the mouse needed to be sure he didn't want to be anywhere near the cat.
When I left for the day, I gave clear instructions to Tigger to catch and kill the mouse- no matter how friendly he seemed.  I told Dixie, our brain-damaged dog, to just stand back and let Tigger do his thing.
When I came back to the house to get something real quickly before the next errand, both Dixie and Tigger greeted me at the door.  If animals could talk, mine, I'm sure, would have said, "Hey!  Did you know there's a mouse here?"  They looked surprised and a little fearful.  They followed me around, scurrying at my feet.  They kept looking up at me like my kids do when they're saying, "Mom!  Mom!  Mom!  Guess what?  Mom!"  I couldn't help but giggle.
This evening when the family reconvenes, it will be interesting to see how the whole "Mouse Watch 2010" plays out.  I know the kids will be as skittish as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers (sorry Tigger).
I'll be glad when hubby comes in from out of town.  He is the voice of reason.  I tend to shrug it off, not giving the kids any real comfort, even though I try.  But hubby comes in with sweeping statements and big gestures that make the kids think he can climb Mt. Everest with one hand tied behind his back.
So I'll let him handle the kids and the unwanted germ-carrier.  (By the way, Amy is convinced the mouse has rabies and we're all going to die.)  In the meantime, I'll double up the efforts of our fortress of insulation to keep out any of mousie's friends.  And laugh at my (wanted) animals, who think they are humans.

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