2005-11-22 @ 12:06 a.m.
Dear mouse who has been living in my house rent free for over a month:
You cannot live in my house rent free anymore. I realize winter is coming and I get free heat, but you are not on the lease and you have not been contributing anything towards the rent, nor have you helped with the vacuuming or emptying the dishwasher and I happen to know that you have been secretly pooping under the piano and causing my cat to flip out everytime you run across the living room in apparent defiance of the International Cat/Mouse Doctrine of 2005. Surely you must realize that this is a punishable offense.
And I realize that Guardcat is finally getting fed up too. Like yesterday when I heard a loud thunk and turned around from my desk and saw her running towards me with something in her mouth. And then I quickly saw your little furry white underbelly and your four scrawny little white legs wiggling around. Unfortunately when I said Guardcat's name, she stopped dead in her tracks, looked up at me, as if to say, "Huh?" and then dropped you and you zipped right back under the piano like the rent-avoiding vermin that you are.
But I could tell Guardcat was both annoyed and felt like a failure. And nobody makes my pussy feel like a failure, buddy! Fortunately she didn't feel totally defeated, and like any good guardcat, she did what she had to do...she sat in front of the piano for like the next 24 hours....guarding me from what could only be described as an imminent MOUSE INVASION....from YOU, ya little bucktoothed, cat-food eating, bird flu infected, zombie mouse-turd.
In the meantime, I had gone down to the Village Hardware and got two humane mousetraps and set them up at the edge of the piano. I may not be incredibly fond of mousies, but I would never want to snap their cute little furry necks, despite the (ahem) nonpayment rent thingie.
So today after I got home from my appointment with the ever patient "A" (and Lord knows he really had to be patient with me today), I found Guardcat diligently
Thadeus de Mouse, decided to run an Ironman Marathon across my living room. Because my mom is actually abnormally petrified of mice, so death by sheer fright would be inevitable. Now why I didn't think of this years ago, I don't know.
So I picked up the trap and was narrating it as I went. Naturally I didn't want to open it in the house (LIKE SHE SUGGESTED...LIKE DUH!), so I stepped out onto my apartment walkway in my jammies. It was a little chilly (probably about 35 degrees), so I had to make this quick. Plus I kind of felt like a geek, because here I was narrating the play by play of a dramatic mouse release on the front porch in my red plaid Land's End nightgown and black socks. I mean, where are the local news crew when the truly big stories are unfolding??
So I opened the little trap door of the mouse trap and Thadeus must have been clinging to the inside of the contraption with all four of his paws, because I couldn't shake the little bastard out. And then I started giggling madly on the phone with my mom because he just wouldn't come out. And then finally with one solid thrust, he fell out with a splat onto the wooden walkway, and naturally my first response was "Awww, he's so cute!!" I'm just hopelessly in love with all animals. But then he took off and made a mad dash for my front door. Fortunately I had closed it to keep Guardcat from escaping. But that little bugger kept running back and forth in this little niche by my front door. I really wished that I had brought my broom out, so that I could have shooed him down towards the creek. And then a couple of minutes ago I heard Guardcat playing with something and I thought, "Oh shit. He got back in", but when I looked around, she was just playing with a pen. But I figure its really only a matter of time, before Thadeus finds his way back into my apartment again. We're supposed to get a snow storm tomorrow, and its a lot warmer in here, than out on the front porch. Right, Thadeus?
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty