At least my husband didn't say "Eek!"
But I think he almost did, he was in such shock. There, in our dining room, was a mouse. A real live mouse.
He was starting to get things ready to feed Ryan -- we'd just gotten home from Massachusetts, and he'd just finished feeding the cat (so she was in the mud room eating). And he walked into the dining room and just stopped in shock.
As he said later, "I thought it was one of Athena's toys. I almost stepped on it, and then I realized its whiskers were twitching."
He called to me, and I walked in and saw it. He asked, "What do we do about it?"
I said, "Hang on a minute." And I ran to the bathroom, grabbed the small trash bin, ran back to the kitchen (while yelling to Dani to STAY PUT with Ryan in the living room), dumped the trash into the kitchen trash, then back to the dining room to deposit the trash can upside down atop the mouse.
Who never even considered running away. He was eating a zweiback that had fallen and been missed in the after-dinner cleanup some evening, and the mouse was perfectly happy.
We then slid a magazine beneath it, trapping the mouse, and then a cookie pan beneath that for something solid. Flipped the whole thing over slowly, and Kevin took the mouse on a little outdoor trip before releasing it.
So I guess we need to pick up some human traps and then take them on LONGER trips after we catch them. Eyuck. I dislike this mightily.
And the whole time, Athena (that would be my cat) just ignored the whole process. Utterly uninterested. So much for the mighty huntress!!
Although, as Kevin pointed out, not hunting the mouse meant that she didn't leave a gift on our pillow. Which is a bonus!Posted by Deb Atwood at June 24, 2002 12:34 AM