Learning songs about the one that got away

Yesterday, part of my IM conversation with Tina went like this:

Tina: so guess what?

Me: what?

Tina: there is a surprise for you in the boys bathroom. it has paws.

Me: mouse?

Tina: and it scared the shit out of me

Tina: yep

Tina: wrapped up in a towel

Tina: waiting for you to come home and throw it away

Me: we should set traps again

Tina: thinks that’s a good idea

Tina: at first i thought it was a toy

Tina: then i saw blood

Tina: then i screamed

Tina: and threw a towel over it

Me: haha

Tina: mice are scary

I was able to guess the answer easily because this is the second we have found this year. The first we took from one of the kittens more than a week ago after they had eaten the guts out of it.

After I got home last night, I went into the bathroom and grabbed the towel in question. I took it out into the garage and put it into the garbage can, which is conveniently full to the top. I unwrapped the folds and found a positively live mouse looking at me inquisitively. There was no sign of blood and the little fellow look quite healthy. I quickly refolded the towel and went back into the house. “That mouse is still alive,” I whispered to Tina. The range of emotions that passed over her face was pretty amusing.

I found a plastic container in the recycling and dumped a little baking soda in it and returned to the garage with the intent of gassing the critter. I put the container on the floor and began to unfold the towel to dump the mouse into the container. Unfortunately, he landed right next to the container and took off under the car. Baby, who just happened to be in the garage with me at that moment, immediately pursued the new toy under the car. I assumed that he would emerge with mouse in mouth, but I was wrong. Soon he was digging around behind some shelves where his brother joined him, but they never caught the bugger.

When Graham got wind of the situation, he refused to go to bed. We eventually talked him into it, but I think that the presence of his nightly companion reassured him that he would be safe from any rogue rodents that might trespass into his bedroom.

Rory spent most of the evening camped in front of the stove intently looking underneath it. Since that was a prime spot for catching mice last year, I’ll put a couple of traps under there tonight as well as one by the cat food and one under the dishwasher.

Rory comes home

As I tried to drift off to sleep Sunday night (er, Monday morning), I imagined the conversation that the cats had when Rory appeared again after being gone for three days. Here’s the scene:

Ming is laying on the back of the couch in the library room and Baby is relaxing nearby on the rocker/glider. Butters bursts into the room exclaiming, “Rory’s home! Rory’s home!”

Ming slowly opens his eyes and says, “Rory’s phone? Rory has a phone? Then someone should call her because I haven’t seen her for awhile.”

“NO, MING,” Butters shouts, “I SAID THAT RORY IS HOME!”

“I can barely hear you, boy, you’ll have to speak up! You say Rory’s alone? I bet she is, she’s been gone for awhile.”

“No, no, no, ” says Butters. He turns to Baby and says, “Did YOU hear me? Rory is home!”

Baby blinks at Butters twice and slowly says, “That’s cool, man, because that chick is fun. But I’m just going to hang out here a little longer with Ming. I’m tired and have only napped for 10 hours today. I need to get my sleep so I can tear around after everyone goes to bed.”

“I can’t believe you guys,” Butters tells them, “We should go make sure she’s alright. Come on!”

And with that he runs out of the room as fast as he can. Unfortunately, he’s going too fast to make it around the first corner and slides right into the cabinet where Frederick the Frog lives.

“What the hell’s wrong with you crazy cats?” croaks Frederick. “Let’s see you come up HERE and do that, smarty pants!”

“Oh, sorry, Frederick,” says Butters, “It was an accident. I’ll come visit later.”

Just as he’s saying that, in walks Rory who says, “Hello, boys. Didja miss me?”