Yesterday morning, my husband told me a funny story about seeing a gray shadow seeming to run across the kitchen floor and thinking at first it was a mouse, but realizing it was a weird floater in his eye. We laughed.
I came down early this morning and was puttering around the kitchen when that same gray shadow ran across one of our counters. Oh my dear husband, that was no floater. He was still asleep after having to pick our son up at the airport at 2:15 a.m., so I couldn’t wake him up just for this. I yelped and moaned and panicked. Where’s Luna when you need her? Right on cue she came wandering into the kitchen so I picked her up, set her on the counter and said sternly, “NOW DO YOUR JOB.” Normally, we forbid her presence on our counters, but desperate times call for desperate measures. She seemed interested but ultimately did not understand the mission. There were too many things in the corner on that counter behind which it was lurking. Why have I allowed things to build up there? Why? And I couldn’t even remove them because that horrible little gray shadow might be exposed and attack me. I simply cannot be expected to be rational when a mouse has invaded my kitchen.
Luna gave up and jumped back down on the floor. I glared at her and scolded: “What use are you to me?” I’m not proud of my behavior. In the meantime, I’m not going near that counter; when my husband comes down, I’ll let him remove those things from it to see if the foe is still there. My hero!!
We’ve had mice in the house before, usually right around this time of year when they come in out of the cold. Here’s how it goes down: we spot a mouse and within a few days, Luna has conquered. She really does know her job. I just don’t enjoy the interim between the mouse sighting and the mouse killing.
One time many years ago, I was sitting in the living room and saw a mouse run under the coffee table, the base of which is very close to the floor. Keeping an eye on the coffee table to make sure it didn’t escape, I called for my son Sam. We developed a plan of setting encyclopedias and other large books all around the base of the coffee table to make a wall. When the wall was erected we would lift the table and Sam would capture the mouse and take it outside. Good plan. I watched to make sure the mouse didn’t come out the other side and Sam did the heavy lifting to bring all the books. I wish I had taken a photo of that brave and bold edifice of books around the table. Let this be a lesson to those of you who eschew the multiplication of books in your home.
The moment of truth arrived. Sam put on some work gloves with which to grab the little offender, we took hold of each end of the table and lifted it up. To our dismay – and our amusement – there was no mouse. It must have run directly out the other side before I could see it, a cunning move. I salute you, Mr. Mouse, but your day will come. And it did, just a day or two later. But I must admit that the sight of a mouse carcass (usually not all there, if you know what I mean) also makes me yelp and moan and panic. Could somebody else please come and dispose of this? I’m not proud of my behavior.
Okay, just one more mouse story. Three or four years ago when everyone was here for Christmas, a kerfuffle came up when Luna spotted a mouse and began chasing it around the living room. Some “light” screaming occurred (that was me, of course.). We all tried to stay out of the way and let Luna do her work (and yes, some of us were standing on chairs). The little critter ran under the Christmas tree and right into the tree stand which was full of water and from which it could not escape. It swam around and around. Luna was somewhat stymied by this development (what do I do now?). Hubby put on a glove, grabbed the little invader out of the water, went outside and flung it out into the cold, sub-zero weather where it probably froze before it hit the ground. My hero!! And indeed, we found it the next day, frozen where it had landed. I have no regrets about how that mouse met its demise and neither should you. When it enters our house, it has declared war and we will give no quarter.
But to show that there’s no hard feelings, here’s a little comic I drew some years ago with a rather cute mouse in it. I’m not completely unfeeling.
The carcass of this post will be disposed of in the morning.
Lynniebeemuseoday 