Thursday, April 23, 2009

Petey & The Mousie

Ah yes, how could I forget! Shame on me. The "Co-Authors" of this blog have alerted me to my faux pas. Before I get swatted with a clawed velvet paw, I must make amends, by sharing this quick story.

We had a little excitement this morning a little after 5:00 a.m. when I normally get up and started for the day.

It is amazing to me to have found that we have a breed of Kamikaze mice living in our area. I had never heard of such a thing, but have witnessed them with my own eyes. They must make dares and take bets as to who will go into a home with multiple cats, and come out unscathed, with side bets of having human aid, or doing it all on their own. That has to be it. .no sane, ordinary mouse would be so foolish.

Now that we have lived here for a number of years, the "regulars" have figured out that while our kitties may chase and occasionally may trap a mousie or horrors, rarely injure one, they really don't know what to do with one. Hence, the challenge of the game.

The person who lived here previously, drilled huge holes in the hardwood floors to run his multiple computer cables all over the place. He was renting from us, and he never asked if he could do that. I guess he figured that the place was over 100 years old, so it didn't matter.. but that is another issue.

The mice use these holes as their entrance and escape routes, popping up one hole dashing across the floor, bouncing from one shelter to another, much like a ball in the pin ball machine, with a massive monster of fur hot on his tiny little heels. . Oh, and the squeaking! A high pitched counterpoint to the strange mewing sounds. .and that is just from me!

I jest. Fortunately, I'm not afraid of mice, and have rescued more than I can even remember. I take them outside, to the back of the garden, and release them, in a leafy shelter, where they have another sporting event, timing how fast they can beat me back inside the house, running both against me, and against the clock. I've heard the awards ceremonies held late at night in the basement. .which is where Petey happened to be early this morning, having drawn the shortest catnip stem, for the basement patrol.

And so it was that he happened to break up the post awards gala, causing the master of ceremonies to make what he thought was a monumental escape up a different hole, and was met with the greatest challenge of his little life, when he made his grand entrance in the dining room, while Smokey, Mysti & Magic were all mulling over the breakfast menu.

Enter Suzie, quietly and innocently padding down the stairs, and through the living room, headed towards the bathroom and kitchen. Nearly blind without her contacts in, only being guided by the candle lamps glow.

She in meditative reverie, savoring the early morning calm and peace before the rest of the world awakes floats right into the middle of chaos that chose that very minute to erupt with a vengeance!! What a jarring awakening!!

Three cats, jostling and shoving for prime position to make that slap shot, and the mousie doing an excellent Argentine Tango (he must be watching DWTS from a dark corner on Monday nights), perfectly timing his holds, dips and precise turns, alluding flaying paws with a professionalism that I haven't seen in a long time. One would have though that he would have chosen the quickstep, considering the circumstances, but he is a mousie with a flare for the dramatic, I guess.

He finally made a mad dash for the relative safety of a cabinet that comes all of the way down to the floor, with the exception of cut-outs on three sides. Just perfect for three kitties to each position themselves on a side, and take turns extending their front paws under the cabinet as far as they can. I should have thanked them for sweeping out the dust bunnies, but had more urgent matters on my mind. I'm surprised that they haven't thought of that, and handed me a cleaning bill.

I'm quickly running around like a maniac, turning on lights, and gathering anything heavy and large enough to cover the portholes. .the cats were not pleased. I then threw on my clothes, stabbed my lenses into my eyes, and ran upstairs to get reinforcements. .or at least one. .my dh.

Half awake, but enough to follow a hasty synopsis, he managed to help me round up the cats, and close them off from the main arena. With skillful precision and timing, we managed to move furniture, and capture that clever mousie, while laying on the floor bending into unnatural, tight contortions. I then made a quick trip out into the early morning stillness, with protected mousie in a disposable lidded bowl, where the rest of the Mouse Ilympic Committee Executives (MICE) were waiting.

Our little instigator was awarded a gold, because of difficulty, but didn't get a perfect score, because of execution. .he required my help at the very end. I tried to get a medal for my form in the rescue, but was disqualified because I have opposable thumbs.

I saw the look in his eye when I turned to leave. .he is going into training for a re-match, I just know it.

In the meantime, on his way back to his warm cozy bed, my dh let the cats back out into the scene of the encounter, where I was promptly informed that I had officially ruined the best time that they had had in a long time, and was therefore assigned to the litterbox rotation, and that there WOULD be inspections. And, that I was to post Petey's photo on the blog because he was instrumental in starting the whole sequence, so he is deemed a hero. Sigh.

Turning abruptly, tails plumed out and aloft, they then followed the path of my hubby, to burrow under and snuggle in the warm blankies. AFTER they had handed me the litter scoop, their empty food bowls, and their menu requests for lunch and dinner.

So, what is a person to do. .they won't let me sleep, or eat, or worse yet, stitch in peace. .so, here is Petey. .just one of our handsome boys. I won't bother to show you the litter boxes. Just take my word for it, that they are in their usual pristine condition.


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