Saturday, January 16, 2010

Mouse Cooties

We have this cat, Rock Star. He's mostly an outdoor cat. His food and cat condo are in the garage, but we leave the door cracked a few inches for him to squeeze through and enjoy the outdoors. Since we live next door to acres of open field he has quite the playground. He's always out prowling and scouting for his next victim. He is an exceptional mouse hunter. I've even had occasion to watch him "play with his food." Watching a half dead mouse try to run away from its predator is like watching a car wreck and not being able to turn away. It was strangely fascinating yet gruesome at the same time since I knew the ultimate fate of that poor mouse.

Thursday was no different. We'd had him locked in the garage for a while since it had been so cold. The weather warmed up and we let him loose. A friend of mine brought Tyler home from preschool since Hannah was home sick - again. We were standing outside talking on the front porch when Rock Star appeared carrying a dead mouse in his mouth. This was not a new occurrence and it didn't bother me. As we talked I had to block him from bringing his "gift" into the house. There are some things that should never be in one's home. Mice, especially dead mice, are in that category.

As we continued talking Rock Star must have gotten bored trying to bring it in the house so he started playing with it. He would grab it in his mouth and toss it into the air. Not just a little toss but at times several feet into the air. For a while I worried if it would land in one of John's boots sitting on the front porch. Imagine putting your foot into that one morning. Bllleech!! He continued doing this all around the porch. He would toss it in the air, wait for it to land, push it around with his nose and then repeat the process all over again. It was kind of interesting to watch. Until....until out of the corner of my eye I watched the mouse fly several feet in the air, over Rock Star's head, and towards me. It brushed my backside and landed right inside my front door. My immediate thought was, "EEEEWWWW!!!! A mouse just touched me!!!!!" I was shuddering and dancing around in hopes of shaking the mouse cooties off of me.

But not only did I have mouse cooties, I had a mouse, a dead mouse, sitting inside my living room. Nothing in heaven or this green earth would have convinced me to use any part of me to get it outside. So I did the next best thing. I grabbed the cat. At first I held him over top of the mouse. "Get the mouse, Rock Star. Get the mouse." Nothing. Next I tried to use his feet to sweep out the mouse. Cat's are not good brooms. His feet didn't touch the dead rodent once. Finally I stuck his nose in front of the mouse and used it to push the mouse towards the door. I guess after a few times of the nose pushing he realized I did not appreciate the gift and grabbed it. I tossed him outside and then continued my dancing and shuddering.

So along with my germ infested home I now have mouse cooties.


Jan (aka concerned aunt) said...

EEEEWWWW! Rachel, I can't believe you have mouse cooties! I know your mother raised you better than that.

Amy said...

LOL! Now that Chesney is gone, y'all get ALLLLL the mice you want!! :0) Or don't want!