There's a Mouse in the House

Some days I get a bit stressed out that I'm not going to pluck a blog subject out of the ethereal workings of my mind, and other days an idea just drops into my lap like a gift from the creative gods.  This weekend was such a time.


I prefer this type of gift



For the last few weeks, the cats have been honing their mouse hunting skills to such a degree that a 'gift' is announced nightly.  Some nights I am fortunate enough to be woken by the gifts being presented under my bed by a very proud feline.  I don't appreciate these gifts other than being thankful that the cats are keeping the mouse population down - it must be the dry weather combined with spring/breeding season, but the cats don't seem to lack for choice.

On Friday night, not only was I blessed once by my cats, but three times.  Goodness, that was a fun night, and I mean fun in the sense of trying on bathing suits at the end of a particularly indulgent winter with bright lighting and unflattering mirror angles.  Clawde and Purrkins must think that we are the worst providers on earth, continually showing us how it's done, how good they are at it, and how very much they love us.

Why are the mirrors so unflattering?

For the first incident I was woken from a very pleasant sleep to hear the slap of the cat door and the operatic notes of Clawde telling all within earshot of his great gift.  I got up, and with bleary eyes fished the small torch out of my bedside table to peek under the bed.  Once I had confirmation that there was, in fact, a small mouse in Clawde's mouth, I opened the bedroom patio door to encourage him to take it back outside.  Clawde, being the thoughtful sweetpea that he is, thought I would benefit from a game of chasing, so he ran around the house, periodically dropping the mouse and picking it up until finally I persuaded him to go out front door.  Oh, what fun we had. 

Shawn slept through the whole thing, I might add, the echo of his snores providing a backdrop to our slightly Benny Hill-esque sprint through the house.



The second incident occurred a couple of hours later, after I was lulled into a good deep sleep.  Again, a slap of the cat door, an announcement of the gift, a fumble for the torch and the opening of the door.  I am getting so much practice at this that I managed to tightly and doggedly grasp onto the last vestiges of sleep, only awake enough to ensure that I didn't step on anything that might cause a squeal and slight bladder leakage.  This time I had better success with Clawde departing the premises quickly.  I crawled back into bed and was just about asleep when I heard the distinct crunch of teeth meeting mouse.  Whoops - Clawde must have left the gift before he dashed and Purrkins found it.  I often have evidence to the contrary, but in this instance it seems that Purrkins may have been the smarter one, waiting for his late night snack delivery. 

Shawn slept through the whole thing.

The third incidence was the pièce de résistance.  You know the sequence by now, and this time it was about 5 am and I had already let the dogs out for their morning ablutions.  Clearly thinking he was The Man, Clawde brought in this delectable piece and it was clear that he was impressed with himself - so impressed that he decided to have a jolly good game with it under our bed.  As I leaned down the side of the bed to check out the situation, I spied a tiny mouse doing a combination hop/jump towards me. Eeek!  'Clawde!', I screamed, 'take it outside.'  With a dexterity that most don't think I'm capable of, I quickly jumped out of bed and opened the screen door, while simultaneously encouraging Clawde very firmly to get out.  Typical of a cat, he ignored me.  It was much more fun to cruelly pick up and then let free this poor creature.  By this time, Purrkins thought he'd come and check it out, watching lazily from the sidelines. 

Guess what?  Shawn woke up this time!  Sensing where this was going, he went to have a shower, leaving us to it.

Oh look, a mouse!

I watched the taunting for a minute or so, realising that neither cat was inclined to finish the job.  At one stage, the little mouse made a run for it, while Clawde and Purrkins decided that it was time for a mutual grooming session.  Seriously?  It was time to bring in the big guns.



Chamois has proven herself in the past when we have had a rat problem at the chicken coop.  She is ridiculously quick and efficient, nothing escapes and nothing suffers.  I called her in, knowing that I needed her skills once again.  She picked up the mouse swiftly and then put it down again...unharmed!  I threw some verbal encouragement in her direction, and like a good dog (which she often isn't), she picked it up again and took it to her bed.  I was so pleased and went to get some paper towel to pick up the carcass and dispose of the body.   When I came back, the little dear was sitting next to Chamois on the bed, with Chamois looking at me blankly while laying quietly beside it.  If I had not have witnessed it myself, I wouldn't have believed it, but the mouse actually ran up one of her front legs and across Chamois' chest.  This did prompt a slight reaction from Chamois - she picked it up and put it in the little crook where her leg meets her chest.  Any time it tried to get away, she just put it back.  I would not even begin to unravel what was going on in her mind, but she was calm and happy.

Enough was enough, and I grabbed a blanket off one of the other dog's beds, scooped up the mouse and released it outside.  Any mouse that can survive two cats and one extra large, extra weird dog deserves to live another day.

And I've learned to lock the cat door before bedtime.