Wednesday, August 7, 2019
Mouse Hunt
Still shaking off the rust:
If you have delved at all into the first four or five years of posts here (and why haven't you?!), you know that my wife's reaction to my sartorial quirkiness has ranged from tolerant to I-wish-I-could-afford-to-get-outta-this-marriage. More recently, she has come to understand that it is not going away, but neither is it a threat.
One indicator is the laundry. I have done the bulk of our laundry for several years, in order to include my underwear in the wash without making her think about my proclivities. Very recently, she has begun grabbing my underwear from its special hamper to wash with everyone else's stuff. No toxic words, no drama, just clean underwear. Nice.
Last weekend, we heard a late night thump in the kitchen. We found one of our cats with a little gray mouse in his mouth. Not dead. The cat kept putting the mouse down, batting and chasing it, then carrying it for a spell. He would not come to us, nor could we entice him to take it outside.
Instead, my wife screamed as the cat ran to our bedroom and promptly lost the mouse. The next half-hour played out like the 1997 comic masterpiece(?), Mousehunt. We reached under the bed and dressers, armed with small plastic storage boxes, hoping to corner the little bugger. We came close several times. The mouse ran over my bare foot at one point.
We had to pull stuff out from under the dressers and bed in our frantic search. From under my chest of drawers, my wife pulled out a waist cincher and a copy of My Husband Betty. In the past, this could have been the catalyst for some unpleasantness. The new dynamic prevailed, though, and she merely handed the stuff to me without a word or even an eye roll. Not an outward eye roll, anyway. Maybe internal.
And I wasn't terribly embarrassed either. I would have broken an arm diving past her to conceal my stash not so long ago. Now it's just a sidenote during a suburban safari. Be vewwy quiet...I'm hunting mouses.
Oh, the mouse has not been found. Pray for us.
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Oh that is such a great story, and now the floodgates have opened - after all, if you have one mouse, ...
ReplyDeleteOh, there are plenty in the garage and shed, I think. And the cats sometimes sit intently in front of cabinets listening. We might need professional help.
DeleteI see a Netflix series!
ReplyDeleteHave their people call my people.
DeleteWell, now I'll be awake all night wondering if you find it!!! ;c)
ReplyDelete== Cass
I'm not freaked out by it. I think he has retreated back to his corner, waiting for the next round.
ReplyDelete