Friday, November 20, 2009

The House That Jack Built

One of the high priorities on our own-a-house-list is to have a residence free of mice. We had them in Tahoe, which we learned is actually fairly common up in the mountains. However, the D.C. area is not the kind of place one would expect to find various kinds of wildlife. Since we moved here last year, our backyard has seen a woodpecker on steroids, a fox licking his balls on my patio, hordes of bowl-stealing squirrels, and of course the mice in our kitchen.

We have two cats, and I have to say that are the biggest waste of fluff and space I have every seen. They do nothing but eat crunchies and piss on my floor. They haven't done one thing to earn their keep, and if not for the fact that we shipped them from Sweden I would put them out on their hairy asses.

Earlier this week, in a half-hearted attempt to put toys in their rightful place, I meandered down the semi-cleared path through the playroom chucking toys into their proper bins. I went back and forth several times and finally noticed what should have been obvious save for all the other stuffed animals laying about. A dead mouse.

That's right. In my kids' playroom. A very dead, slightly-chewed little field mouse.

The grin on my face nearly split my cheeks. I called Hubbie in to document the momentous occasion. After ten years, we still can't figure out what motivated our big grey cat to kill this mouse. The only thing we can figure is that it must have been a suicide attempt. The cat was probably asleep, and the mouse forced its way into her mouth and tickled her tongue until it was gummed to death.

I am sure very few people are happy to see dead vermin in their house, but one dead mouse in the playroom is one less live mouse in my kitchen.

7 comments:

Cristin said...

Dead rodents make me very happy. Our dog killed a mouse in our dining room when she was only a puppy... we were so proud!

We had RATS up in Vermont... probably bigger than your cat... nasty things... we poisoned the shit out of them.

Titanium said...

Always be sure to ask the kids if they did it...

When my daughter was two, I found her wielding a 2x4 with great dexterity in the garage. I rushed out to discover that she had, in her words, "killed it dead".

I had two cats and neither of them could be bothered with things like catching their own food. :)

Titanium said...
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Schmutzie said...

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Chamuca said...

Mice and rats give me the heebie jeebies.

When I was a kid, our garage smelled really bad. My parents paid me $50 to find out what the smell was.

It was a dead mouse, who'd made a nest by tearing up some old halloween costumes.

My parents wouldn't pay me unless I disposed of it myself. I almost told them to keep their money.

15 years later, I can still remember the smell and it makes me gag just thinking about it.

Not Afraid to Use It said...

@Cristin: Rats are a whole other ball of wax. I know they can grow to the size of a VW. No thanks.

@Titanium: Great story! But, if my kids did it, that means they must have groomed it and licked the hell out of its head and neck. If my kids did it, I just don't want to know.

@Chamuca: That is just wrong! It should have been a $50 finders fee, disposal an added expense. Sorry your folks didn't hold to their end of the bargain! I can see how that smell would stay with you for a long time!

Joe @ IrrationalDad said...

Thank goodness, we've never had a mouse issue (that I'm aware of at least). My dog would think they were toys and would likely end up killing them like that dog from the cartoons. "I have a friend. His name is George. I will pet him and squeeze him and love him and hug him. I had another friend, but he don't move no more."