Mouse Patrol

The other morning I stumbled out into the cold garage at 6:00 am with a bucket of hot water (we put hot water in the critters' water bowls to keep it from freezing) and almost stepped on a dead mouse.

I'm an animal lover, but I was not saddened by the sight of a dead rodent.

I turned to the three cats, who were roiling around my ankles and each other in anticipation of breakfast kibble, and said, "OK, whose mouse is this?"

No one owned up to it, of course. As I rationed out the kibble I said, "I want that mouse gone by tonight. I don't care if you eat it or put it in the pasture, just get it out of the garage."

But that night, the mouse was still there, so I grabbed a paper towel and picked it up. Unfortunately it was not frozen. No, it was quite squishy. I put it in the covered garbage can and went back in the house.

The next morning, some cat who shall remain nameless (but who has been caught in the act before) had somehow gotten into the garbage and torn the liner to pieces in her effort to get at the mouse. As I cleaned up THAT mess, I said, "You didn't want the mouse when it was lying conveniently on the floor, but suddenly you wanted the mouse when it was in the garbage can?"

All I heard was yowled requests for breakfast.