This morning I woke up at 5, because I'm still on steroids and sleep is for sissies. At about 6:15, I gave up trying to go back to sleep and decided to have my coffee and get on with it. I was puttering in the kitchen, waiting for my coffee to steep. I tied up a bag of trash, and a mouse leapt out of the bag and into the sink where it scrambled frantically for a few seconds and then dashed off to parts unknown.
I'm not especially afraid of mice, but there's something about an unexpected live animal springing up out of nowhere at 6 in the morning when one is not even properly caffeinated that is a bit startling. My verbal reaction went something like this:
"Ahhhh! Mouse. Mouse. Mouse. Mouse. Mouse. Mouse."
Needless to say, if the aged but still formidable Fez were here, we would not be having this problem. Fez would not even have to hunt and kill the mouse. Her very presence instills terror in rodents and other mammals. If you've met Fez, you know what I'm talking about. Waves of evil and ill will flow forth from Fez. She can clear a room in seconds flat.
On a related note, some of you have been asking about when my cats can come back, and the answer is that I don't know and I'm kind of afraid to ask. Meanwhile they are with Martha in their country home, being spoiled rotten. They even got to watch the first three seasons of "Lost." If all goes well, I should be able to visit them in about 8 weeks. Maybe I can bring home a little bag of evil from Fez to scare the mouse away.
8 comments:
Comrade, I saw a mouse in your basement but I decided not to discuss it. I thought maybe your basement is so nice that the mice would stay down there and not inhabit your apartment. Maybe someone should mail you some, you know, used litter or something. If I were a mouse I would be scared of Fez--I mean, I'm a human and I'm scared of Fez. All hail the Fez!
If you are, in fact, able to bag up some evil fez juju, let me know. I would like to purchase some. My two, count them, two, cats watched the mouse run over my foot, me leap into the air, and then they sat there as I writhed on the floor in pain with the resulting torn calf muscle. I swear this is true. The mouse lived to fight another day, and it wasn't the cats who eventually got him.
Growing up, I had a dog who would kill RATS (big ones!) instantly grabbing it in his mouth and snapping it's neck. It was terrifying to see. We didn't have rats in our house, of course, but we did have two barns, and in the barn where the horses were kept there were bins of "horse feed." Oats and corn, and grains. Hence: Rats." Sometimes at night when I'd open the barn door and turn on the lights, I'd startle a rat and he'd run for cover. Or, at least try until Chief dogged after it, grabbed it in his mouth and snapped it's neck. Killing it instantly. One time the rat was SO BIG Chief could not kill it. Got it in his mouth, but couldn't perform the proper snapping action to "do the trick." It was just too big, and too heavy. Having met his match, Chief surrendered and dropped said rat on the barn floor. The poor thing was half gone and writing in pain. I was aghast. So, to put the poor thing out-of-its-misery (now...everyone knows that I am an animal LOVER - I could not bear to see the rat suffering) I hit it over the head with a shovel. The act was done. Poor rat was gone. Except for the fact that it wasn't a "huge rat" at all. It was a half-grown Possum. To this day I am still panged with guilt.
My cat, Suzy, tends to exude a comparatively different sort of malice. When she walks into a room, one immediately gets the feeling of extreme solitude, as though there soul is being sucked out through a hole strategically drilled into the pit of their stomach. this is rather akin to the dementors of Harry Potter but, in a much furrier way. Once the victim catches a glimpse of her adorable furry cuteness, a rather mixed message is sent.
dropping a hello with wishes for the best
Comrade, I knew about the mice in the basement. But when Certain Gray Mammals were here, the rodents did not dare show their pointy little faces in my apartment.
Someone once told me a story about his mother, who had cats, and broke up with her boyfriend, who hated cats. He moved out and found his new apartment infested with mice. After that he would drop by her place and borrow some used litter. Apparently it kept the mice away. I bet they also had sex for old time's sake.
Unfortunately, it's the litter, not so much the cats, that I must avoid.
I meant the mother and the boyfriend, not the boyfriend and the mice.
Yes, I teach English real good.
Ha, the Grey Ones... like Drumzer's Dementor cat. That's exactly how Fez is. Like something outta Lovecraft.
Eeek, I forgot that it's the litter that's dangerous.
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