Even though I hooked only a silver medal in the Asheville Blogger Olympics this past weekend, I am the champion mouse catcher of, ummmmmm, North Asheville or, possibly, of all Buncombe County.
My cats, dear brothers whom I have raised from kittenhood, are the best of guys. On a daily basis, they bring me gifts. Because they were abandoned by their birth mother and adopted by me at five-weeks, they have the hunter instinct, but never learned to kill efficiently or to eat their prey.
Therefore, my marmalade boys bring me mice, drop them at my feet, and then the little rodents run off under the refrigerator where they live happily ever after on the Cheerio and cheese crumbs that my kids drop daily.
Once they venture out, from under various large kitchen appliances, I become Mouse Catcher Mom, and, gently, I capture them, then release them back into our yard. So the cats can regift me the next day.
Yesterday, I cornered an adorable little guy under a shelf. Carefully blocking the available openings, I placed a clear plastic grain bin at one end. Clear is important, as you need to see when the mouse has run into your humane trap. Then I used the bamboo back stratcher to push the little guy towards the bin. Of course, he ran right at my face, and over my hand. At which point I let out a cuss word that my four-year-old has revisited twice today, in appropriate situations (he’s so smart). Again, I cornered the little guy and with a flick, swept him into the bin, which E-spouse grabbed and upended, breaking his fragile mouse back in the process. Which was not the point. I was saving the little guy. So my cats could torture him further.
Today, however, my boy alerted me to another mousie running boldly across the dining room. Houdini, my svelte kitty, cornered him. The mouse stopped still, quivering with fear. Gracefully, I dropped a dish cloth on him, scooped him up and deposited him in my front flower bed. How soon, I wonder, will he be back?
So, EM, what are we to deduce from this?
That you are a velvet-handed altruist who wishes no harm on all creatures, great and small? Or the most vile of tormentors - she who approaches with a friendly demeanor and then lets slip the dagger?
I say mice are vermin. Kill them.
I’m with Ash. Just get a broom out and take care of the situation
good for you
We have the same problem, only the cat seems to find the mice INSIDE the house. Had a great time at the party. Happy Thanksgiving.
See, I would’ve pegged you as a mouse-serial-killer, not a catch-and-release type girl…
Show’s what I know…
We use to set humane traps for mice when I was growing up. Great lesson on the value of all life.
My stepmom and I would pack the collection of little trapped mice into a shoe box and then drive several miles down the road to release them.
Now that I own my own home though, I would probably resort to less humane methods if they became an issue.
Aw, that’s really a cute story. The pics actually remind me of a Siberian dwarf hamster I had as a pet for awhile. Kinda hard to kill something when it looks like another critter you cared for and played with.
Also kinda hard to kill something that only came into the house because the cats BROUGHT it in there! Good for you for being so thoughtful.
Plus, what would the kitties do if there were no more mice?
Never trust a cat….
I’d rather have a pet mouse than a cat…
Ding, ding, ding. Ash, as usual, hit the bell hard and with surety. Who is going to answer his question?
SC is right there with him. So which am I? Hmmmmmm. I’ll let you all decide.
So, your mouse skills are tremendous there! You have a technique down pat and everything. I see a future profession for you there! For some reason this reminds me of the rabbits in Wallace and Gromit and the Wererabbit…
Well, let’s look at what we know:
EM dresses up in leather and brandishes a whip for Halloween.
Her online quiz tagged her as a “Maneater.”
Her web site was certified 39 percent evil on the last Friday the 13th several months ago.
EM has confessed that she is both beauty and beast - most beastly when it comes to acting as secretary for E-Spouse.
In the EM archive, we see reference upon reference to old boyfriends, trapped like meek mice in EM’s plastic love bin. None survived.
So, my call: EM is a killer with a conscience. The question is not if the discloth with drop, but when.
Who here answers his own questions? Ash does.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving!
Thanks Steve! You too.
Ash meant, “not if the dishcloth will drop, but when?” Typing too quickly, guy?
Well, at the least, I can say that even my boring posts bring up some controversy.
Happy Thanksgiving to you all!
Cute!
EM you are such a great story teller! Love it.
Yes, that’s right EM.
So, are we supposed to wish everybody a happy Turkey Day? Maybe you should start a new post for that… Or maybe we can come to your villa for a little turkey huntin’…
ewww, ewww, ewww! It *ran. over. your. hand.* Ohhhhh….. *wringing hands and shaking off the heebie jeebies.
Yeah, Ash. Come on over, with your big gun and try hunting a N. Asheville turkey. Let’s see what happens.
You are, of course, always welcome at the villa. But don’t go pretending you’re gonna go mess with my rafter.
You should try tagging the wee beasties for tracking purposes.
I can just picture you tagging these little field mice with yellow ear tags.